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#i have a lot of feelings about this story
derinwrites · 2 days
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The Three Commandments
The thing about writing is this: you gotta start in medias res, to hook your readers with action immediately. But readers aren’t invested in people they know nothing about, so start with a framing scene that instead describes the characters and the stakes. But those scenes are boring, so cut straight to the action, after opening with a clever quip, but open in the style of the story, and try not to be too clever in the opener, it looks tacky. One shouldn’t use too many dialogue tags, it’s distracting; but you can use ‘said’ a lot, because ‘said’ is invisible, but don’t use ‘said’ too much because it’s boring and uninformative – make sure to vary your dialogue tags to be as descriptive as possible, except don’t do that because it’s distracting, and instead rely mostly on ‘said’ and only use others when you need them. But don’t use ‘said’ too often; you should avoid dialogue tags as much as you possibly can and indicate speakers through describing their reactions. But don’t do that, it’s distracting.
Having a viewpoint character describe themselves is amateurish, so avoid that. But also be sure to describe your viewpoint character so that the reader can picture them. And include a lot of introspection, so we can see their mindset, but don’t include too much introspection, because it’s boring and takes away from the action and really bogs down the story, but also remember to include plenty of introspection so your character doesn’t feel like a robot. And adverbs are great action descriptors; you should have a lot of them, but don’t use a lot of adverbs; they’re amateurish and bog down the story. And
The reason new writers are bombarded with so much outright contradictory writing advice is that these tips are conditional. It depends on your style, your genre, your audience, your level of skill, and what problems in your writing you’re trying to fix. Which is why, when I’m writing, I tend to focus on what I call my Three Commandments of Writing. These are the overall rules; before accepting any writing advice, I check whether it reinforces one of these rules or not. If not, I ditch it.
1: Thou Shalt Have Something To Say
What’s your book about?
I don’t mean, describe to me the plot. I mean, why should anybody read this? What’s its thesis? What’s its reason for existence, from the reader’s perspective? People write stories for all kinds of reasons, but things like ‘I just wanted to get it out of my head’ are meaningless from a reader perspective. The greatest piece of writing advice I ever received was you putting words on a page does not obligate anybody to read them. So why are the words there? What point are you trying to make?
The purpose of your story can vary wildly. Usually, you’ll be exploring some kind of thesis, especially if you write genre fiction. Curse Words, for example, is an exploration of self-perpetuating power structures and how aiming for short-term stability and safety can cause long-term problems, as well as the responsibilities of an agitator when seeking to do the necessary work of dismantling those power structures. Most of the things in Curse Words eventually fold back into exploring this question. Alternately, you might just have a really cool idea for a society or alien species or something and want to show it off (note: it can be VERY VERY HARD to carry a story on a ‘cool original concept’ by itself. You think your sky society where they fly above the clouds and have no rainfall and have to harvest water from the clouds below is a cool enough idea to carry a story: You’re almost certainly wrong. These cool concept stories work best when they are either very short, or working in conjunction with exploring a theme). You might be writing a mystery series where each story is a standalone mystery and the point is to present a puzzle and solve a fun mystery each book. Maybe you’re just here to make the reader laugh, and will throw in anything you can find that’ll act as framing for better jokes. In some genres, readers know exactly what they want and have gotten it a hundred times before and want that story again but with different character names – maybe you’re writing one of those. (These stories are popular in romance, pulp fantasy, some action genres, and rather a lot of types of fanfiction).
Whatever the main point of your story is, you should know it by the time you finish the first draft, because you simply cannot write the second draft if you don’t know what the point of the story is. (If you write web serials and are publishing the first draft, you’ll need to figure it out a lot faster.)
Once you know what the point of your story is, you can assess all writing decisions through this lens – does this help or hurt the point of my story?
2: Thou Shalt Respect Thy Reader’s Investment
Readers invest a lot in a story. Sometimes it’s money, if they bought your book, but even if your story is free, they invest time, attention, and emotional investment. The vast majority of your job is making that investment worth it. There are two factors to this – lowering the investment, and increasing the payoff. If you can lower your audience’s suspension of disbelief through consistent characterisation, realistic (for your genre – this may deviate from real realism) worldbuilding, and appropriately foreshadowing and forewarning any unexpected rules of your world. You can lower the amount of effort or attention your audience need to put into getting into your story by writing in a clear manner, using an entertaining tone, and relying on cultural touchpoints they understand already instead of pushing them in the deep end into a completely unfamiliar situation. The lower their initial investment, the easier it is to make the payoff worth it.
Two important notes here: one, not all audiences view investment in the same way. Your average reader views time as a major investment, but readers of long fiction (epic fantasies, web serials, et cetera) often view length as part of the payoff. Brandon Sanderson fans don’t grab his latest book and think “Uuuugh, why does it have to be so looong!” Similarly, some people like being thrown in the deep end and having to put a lot of work into figuring out what the fuck is going on with no onboarding. This is one of science fiction’s main tactics for forcibly immersing you in a future world. So the valuation of what counts as too much investment varies drastically between readers.
Two, it’s not always the best idea to minimise the necessary investment at all costs. Generally, engagement with art asks something of us, and that’s part of the appeal. Minimum-effort books do have their appeal and their place, in the same way that idle games or repetitive sitcoms have their appeal and their place, but the memorable stories, the ones that have staying power and provide real value, are the ones that ask something of the reader. If they’re not investing anything, they have no incentive to engage, and you’re just filling in time. This commandment does not exist to tell you to try to ask nothing of your audience – you should be asking something of your audience. It exists to tell you to respect that investment. Know what you’re asking of your audience, and make sure that the ask is less than the payoff.
The other way to respect the investment is of course to focus on a great payoff. Make those characters socially fascinating, make that sacrifice emotionally rending, make the answer to that mystery intellectually fulfilling. If you can make the investment worth it, they’ll enjoy your story. And if you consistently make their investment worth it, you build trust, and they’ll be willing to invest more next time, which means you can ask more of them and give them an even better payoff. Audience trust is a very precious currency and this is how you build it – be worth their time.
But how do you know what your audience does and doesn’t consider an onerous investment? And how do you know what kinds of payoff they’ll find rewarding? Easy – they self-sort. Part of your job is telling your audience what to expect from you as soon as you can, so that if it’s not for them, they’ll leave, and if it is, they’ll invest and appreciate the return. (“Oh but I want as many people reading my story as possible!” No, you don’t. If you want that, you can write paint-by-numbers common denominator mass appeal fic. What you want is the audience who will enjoy your story; everyone else is a waste of time, and is in fact, detrimental to your success, because if they don’t like your story then they’re likely to be bad marketing. You want these people to bounce off and leave before you disappoint them. Don’t try to trick them into staying around.) Your audience should know, very early on, what kind of an experience they’re in for, what the tone will be, the genre and character(s) they’re going to follow, that sort of thing. The first couple of chapters of Time to Orbit: Unknown, for example, are a micro-example of the sorts of mysteries that Aspen will be dealing with for most of the book, as well as a sample of their character voice, the way they approach problems, and enough of their background, world and behaviour for the reader to decide if this sort of story is for them. We also start the story with some mildly graphic medical stuff, enough physics for the reader to determine the ‘hardness’ of the scifi, and about the level of physical risk that Aspen will be putting themselves at for most of the book. This is all important information for a reader to have.
If you are mindful of the investment your readers are making, mindful of the value of the payoff, and honest with them about both from the start so that they can decide whether the story is for them, you can respect their investment and make sure they have a good time.
3: Thou Shalt Not Make Thy World Less Interesting
This one’s really about payoff, but it’s important enough to be its own commandment. It relates primarily to twists, reveals, worldbuilding, and killing off storylines or characters. One mistake that I see new writers make all the time is that they tank the engagement of their story by introducing a cool fun twist that seems so awesome in the moment and then… is a major letdown, because the implications make the world less interesting.
“It was all a dream” twists often fall into this trap. Contrary to popular opinion, I think these twists can be done extremely well. I’ve seen them done extremely well. The vast majority of the time, they’re very bad. They’re bad because they take an interesting world and make it boring. The same is true of poorly thought out, shocking character deaths – when you kill a character, you kill their potential, and if they’re a character worth killing in a high impact way then this is always a huge sacrifice on your part. Is it worth it? Will it make the story more interesting? Similarly, if your bad guy is going to get up and gloat ‘Aha, your quest was all planned by me, I was working in the shadows to get you to acquire the Mystery Object since I could not! You have fallen into my trap! Now give me the Mystery Object!’, is this a more interesting story than if the protagonist’s journey had actually been their own unmanipulated adventure? It makes your bad guy look clever and can be a cool twist, but does it mean that all those times your protagonist escaped the bad guy’s men by the skin of his teeth, he was being allowed to escape? Are they retroactively less interesting now?
Whether these twists work or not will depend on how you’ve constructed the rest of your story. Do they make your world more or less interesting?
If you have the audience’s trust, it’s permissible to make your world temporarily less interesting. You can kill off the cool guy with the awesome plan, or make it so that the Chosen One wasn’t actually the Chosen One, or even have the main character wake up and find out it was all a dream, and let the reader marinate in disappointment for a little while before you pick it up again and turn things around so that actually, that twist does lead to a more interesting story! But you have to pick it up again. Don’t leave them with the version that’s less interesting than the story you tanked for the twist. The general slop of interest must trend upward, and your sacrifices need to all lead into the more interesting world. Otherwise, your readers will be disappointed, and their experience will be tainted.
Whenever I’m looking at a new piece of writing advice, I view it through these three rules. Is this plot still delivering on the book’s purpose, or have I gone off the rails somewhere and just stared writing random stuff? Does making this character ‘more relateable’ help or hinder that goal? Does this argument with the protagonists’ mother tell the reader anything or lead to any useful payoff; is it respectful of their time? Will starting in medias res give the audience an accurate view of the story and help them decide whether to invest? Does this big twist that challenges all the assumptions we’ve made so far imply a world that is more or less interesting than the world previously implied?
Hopefully these can help you, too.
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✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*
「 ✦ aaron hotchner ✦ 」
╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all aaron hotchner stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3
┌──────────────────┐
MASTERLIST ✈️ CRIMINAL MINDS ✈️ 4/25/24
✐ @luveline
✎ sick of maybe
✑You worry your boyfriend is ashamed of you. This is very much not the case. Or, 5 times Hotch hid your relationship (+1 time he didn’t).
✎ a solitary mistake
✑ You're not sure you're ready to come back. Hotch has total faith in you. Or, your transition back into the team after your abduction doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped. 
✎ spontaneous phenomena
✑ Hotch touches your face much more than a boss should. Or, 5 times you have a nosebleed +1 time Hotch does.
✎ love, an abstract concept
✑ You learn how to be someone’s girlfriend. Or, 5 times Hotch raises your expectations (+1 time you raise his).
✎ if things go bad
✑ when an unknown intruder breaks into your apartment, you call hotch. he races to make it to you in time.
✎ bau!reader
✎ bau!reader
✎ bau!reader
✎ doctor!reader
✎ pregnant!reader
✐ @dudeitiskarev
✎ my one and only
✑ It’s Derek and Savannah’s wedding, and to Hotch, you’re the prettiest person in the room.
✎ i want to hold your hand
✑ Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you.
✎ jealously
✐ @kimstills
✎ some reassurance
✑ in which you try to provide aaron with some reassurance after he asks for his worst qualities.
✐ @ssahotchnerr
✎ something good
✎ rom coms
✎ according to plan
✎ makeshift
✎ something exhilarating
✎ like dad does
✎ public displays of affection
✎ stay with me
✎ not so friendly competition
✐ @greg-montgomery
✎ request
✐ @headkiss
✎ something more
✑ you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.
✎ steady hand
✑ hotch catches you at the worst times, but you’re not mad about it. or: 4 times you need hotch’s help +1 time he needs yours.
✐ @honeypiehotchner
✎ gold star
✑ You’re Jack’s teacher and Aaron is basically your nemesis. Until he’s not.
✐ @chvoswxtch
✎ baby
✐ @hotchfiles
✎ half asleep takin’ chances
✑ there was no way around it, he needed an actual babysitter. so he finds you. and then he gets home to you adorably sleeping with jack on the couch to spider-man.
✎ no rainfall, no sunshine
✑ if there was a god, he wasn’t merciful, he was bloodthirsty, and he had a vendetta against aaron. he’s cursed, he knows it.
✐ @hotchscvm
✎ three cents
✑ you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.
✐ @erwinsvow
✎ coffee, black, two sugars
✑ aaron hotchner is a lot of things. in love with you is one that you never saw coming.
✐ @atlabeth
✎ too sweet
✑ a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.
✐ @ptersparkers
✎ reckless
✑ After two years with the BAU, you get the feeling that Aaron Hotchner isn’t your biggest fan. That’s too bad, because you really like him.
✐ @spacecowboyhotch
✎ in the east and west
✑ hotch and reader realize some things.
✐ @velvetcloxds
✎ bias
hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3
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afterglowsainz · 9 hours
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Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻
jealousy | jude bellingham
obsessed with this concept already !!
summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it
warnings: none
word count: 738
a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3
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you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.
“someone dm you.” he says.
his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.
“who?”
“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.
“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.
jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.
“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.
“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.
when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.
some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.
he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.
“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.
you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.
“sure.” you say.
he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.
when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.
“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.
“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.
“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.
“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”
“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”
jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.
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charliemwrites · 1 day
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Three to Flee
Commission from the very sweet @ignoreprotocol
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Someone leaves the door open and the pets get out.
Content Warning: Established kidnapping situation, unhealthy relationships, collaring
Author's Note: This does not mean Keeper/Kept is back. As far as I'm concerned, that story is finished, but this was a special case.
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Shockingly, it’s not Feral that brings it up first.
The girls are having a little picnic at the edge of Johnny and Shy Thing’s yard, shaded by the tall trees. The men are chatting on the porch, sharing cigars and whiskey, far from earshot. Good behavior has earned them this bit of privacy, and so far, they’ve just used it to exchange keeper notes and offer bedroom advice.
“I can’t believe you don’t even have a fence,” Good Girl muses, glancing at the forest beyond. Her own yard is well fortified. It’s not just the sturdy, unclimbable fence, but also the monitors and floodlights connected to it.
Shy Thing sheepishly mentions a failed escape attempt several months earlier, a mad dash through the woods that ended with her dirty and disciplined. That prompts Good Girl to confess her own ill-fated getaway, a midnight attempt at sneaking out that resulted in a bruised ass.
Feral listens with her head cocked, nibbling at her apple slices. When their eyes turn to her, she shrugs.
“I haven’t tried to leave in a while,” she admits, “but I don’t think it would go well.”
Good Girl frowns. “How do you know if you haven’t tried?”
Feral snorts. “You’ve met Simon, haven’t you?”
All eyes turn to the boys on the porch. And there’s Simon, watching. Feral makes a rude gesture his way and they can see his shoulders shaking with a chuckle.
“Besides… it’s not so bad,” she muses. “Most of the time.”
Good Girl sits back, expression twisting. “I don’t want it to be ‘not so bad,’ I want it to be good. And I want it that way all the time.”
Shy Thing shifts. “What’s so wrong with John…?”
Good Girl huffs and begins picking at threads in the blanket. “He’s… fine. I mean, he would be if I could just leave. Don’t you miss being free?”
Feral hums.
“I… I miss going to the store when I wanted… or just… walking around town,” Shy Thing admits slowly. “I miss coffee shops and parks.”
Good Girl groans in agreement. “I miss the internet. It’s like being a fucking teenager again, having all my activity monitored.”
With a little more momentum now, Shy Things continues, “I haven’t been alone in months. Just… by myself. Doing whatever I want.”
“And not having rules,” Good Girl adds, sipping at the mojito John put in a little travel cup for her. “Fucking… sick of having a bedtime and chores and a fucking collar. Aren’t you sick of it?”
It’s directed at both of them, but Shy Thing nods, hands fidgeting.
“It gets to be a lot sometimes,” she mumbles, “I think I warmed up to Johnny out of pure exhaustion.”
Good Girl huffs again, worked into a proper fuss now. “And they’re so smug about it. Like we’re just these good, trained pets.”
Feral pipes up, “We could leave together.”
Both girls swivel to her with varying degrees of shock, hope, and disbelief.
“You said you didn’t think you could get past Simon,” Good Girl says.
Feral snorts and stretches out on her stomach in a mottled patch of sunlight creeping through the leaves.
“Yeah, I couldn’t on my own,” she explains, “but between the three of us…”
It’s uncomfortably simple when it happens. They just need to wait until the next big mission.
All three of them beg (or in Feral’s case, demand) to spend that time together while the keepers are away. It’s not unusual for the creatures to meet up when one or more of the men are gone. With all three off on a mission this time, they sniffle about being lonely and wanting company. That their houses feel too big and empty, that cooking for one is depressing.
Johnny caves instantly; John agrees on the stipulation that Good Girl is on her best behavior before he leaves. Simon, of course, is a foregone conclusion.
They go to Simon’s house. It’s the safest of the three homes and has the most space. Not to mention the girls will have some sort of access to the outside with the enclosed sunporch.
On the day of the mission, Good Girl and Shy Thing show up with fully packed bags, ready for their extended “sleepover” with Feral. The pets see their boys off, behave as normal for the cameras until Shy Thing gets the “heading out” message from Johnny. That’s the greenlight.
Feral has her own bag of things that she packs quickly and expertly. They fill a fourth bag with nonperishable provisions, just in case. Each of them has cash that they filched last minute from their keepers’ wallets – knowing they wouldn’t check them just before a classified mission.
The girls know it’ll be a day or two before anyone checks on them. Even Kyle is away with the team this time.
And then it all comes down to walking out the door.
The front door is, of course, locked. All the windows have alarms on them, and so does the garage door. But the sunporch…
“He didn’t lock the door,” Feral realizes as it swings open. And the alarm only engages when it’s locked.
All three of them take a single step out into the open air. And stop. Stare at each other a little moon-eyed.
They just left.
They stride at a quick clip around the side of the house and down the road. It’ll be an hour-long walk into town, but they have thick coats and each other for company. They chatter as they follow the pavement, just within the tree line out of caution. Pretend its giddy celebration at their escape and not a distraction from the creeping mix of dread and uncertainty beginning to simmer within each of them.
When they reach town, they blend into the crowds, weaving through the streets until they find a low-end hotel. It won’t be anything fancy, but at least it seems clean enough. Good Girl does all the talking with the receptionist (also a lady, thank god) since Feral and Shy Thing are jittery from so many people. They get a one-bed room with easy access to the fire exit.
 It’s only after they’re inside that reality sinks its claws in.
They’re free. For the first time in months, they’re outside with no one standing behind their shoulders or holding their arms. No one to appease, nothing to behave for.
And Shy Thing throws up in the toilet.
“This is scary,” she wheezes, eyes watering. “I’m scared. I want—”
Though she stops, the other two know what the end of that sentence was. Good Girl rubs her back.
“Don’t worry, they’re not going to find us,” she soothes like she doesn’t know why Shy Thing is really scared.
Neither Shy Thing nor Feral reply. The answer hangs in the air, unspoken. We want them to.
Feral, feeling restless, goes back into the main room and begins rummaging through her bag.
“What are you doing?” Good Girl asks, giving Shy Thing privacy to clean up.
“Looking for something to cut that off with.” Feral nods to Good Girl’s collar. “It’s probably chipped or something. We should have taken it off at home.”
She stops as the blood drains from her fellow creature’s face. They stare at each other across the tiny motel room, the weight of their successful plan pressing heavier and heavier with each passing second.
“I…” Good Girl rasps, “I…”
“You don’t want to.”
Her eyes well with tears. “No.”
Feral drops her bag and crumples to the ground, tugging her knees up to her chest.
“Why don’t I want to?” Good Girl whispers, curling her arms around herself. “This… this was my idea. I complain all the time. Why do I miss him already?”
Shy Thing appears in the doorway, sniffling. “I-I don’t know if I can do this. I can’t imagine life without Johnny. I… I don’t know if I want to have a life without Johnny.”
And Feral, still on the floor and trembling all over, just looks at them with huge tears running down her face.
Needless to say, when three rather miffed keepers in full combat gear throw the door open at 3am, they are not expecting armfuls of distraught creatures sobbing into their chests.
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ambrosiagoldfish · 1 day
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Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️
like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea
Benifit of the doubt Pt.4
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
Request Box: Open
Word Count: 4617~
A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)
Reblogs are always appreciated!
Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.
Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)
Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.
To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.
A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.
Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.
How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.
You never returned to any of the follow up meetings
But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.
“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.
“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”
Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”
You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.
“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”
Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”
You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”
-
That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.
You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.
Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.
“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”
Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.
Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”
“What!” Both your voices raise in shock
“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”
“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly
“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”
“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”
“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”
“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”
With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.
The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.
On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.
The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.
“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”
“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth
“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.
“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.
“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.
“When should she be arriving, Lute?”
“Within the hour.”
-
Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.
But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.
“She can’t see us?”
“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”
The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.
“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”
You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.
You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.
Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.
She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.
The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.
“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”
Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”
“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.
Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.
So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.
“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.
You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”
Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”
“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”
Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”
“But-“
“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”
“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”
Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought
“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg
Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”
Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.
Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.
-
A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!
“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding
“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”
You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”
She shakes her head
“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”
Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”
“Thank you.”
-
You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.
A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.
“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.
“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.
“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”
Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”
You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”
Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”
“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”
He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.
Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.
-
Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.
“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“
You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”
He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-
You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”
He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”
With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’
You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.
The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.
You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.
“Hi! I’m-“
The door is slammed shut, Before opening again
“Be not afraid-“
It shuts again…
Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.
“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.
“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”
You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.
“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…
“Wait, you are-“
“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”
Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.
“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”
“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”
Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”
Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”
She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”
You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.
“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.
“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first
“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.
“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”
“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.
“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”
The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch
“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.
He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.
The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.
“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”
The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.
“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”
The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”
“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”
Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.
“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”
“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”
“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”
“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs
She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.
You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.
You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.
*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*
Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.
Dixkmaster69
Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left
You there??
Fucking answer
You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.
Sweetcheeks
Hey love
Everything’s fine, I’m ok.
Aside from not having you with me :’(
Dixkmaster69
Fucking finally
You know you don’t have to do this
If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow
Sweetcheeks
Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.
I promise I’m going to be fine
I’ll be back before you know it.
Dixkmaster69
I know
This shit just worries me
Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)
You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.
Sweetcheeks
I already miss yours too <3
Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?
Dixkmaster69
Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3
You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.
“Sup”
You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”
You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”
You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”
“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”
You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…
“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”
More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”
Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”
Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.
253 notes · View notes
jinkiezzsstuff · 1 day
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Hey! I really loved your Covkwarming with Alastor Story. Would you maybe want to make one where Alastor is busy and reader wants his attention? Maybe he even snaps at her only to later search for her and make it up to her? With lots of fluff and maybe nsfw?
Hope you have a nice day
-🌸🦇
BRODI! You waited a whole month for this and I AM SO SORRY. I love and appreciate you and your request so much thank you very much for being patient, i really really loved this idea but dang april has been a crazy month for me, i hope you’re doing well and enjoy this fic it’s a longer one!
i’m actually really happy with how this turned out
warnings: SMUT 18+, angst, fluff, mean alastor, you guys fight, gaslighting girl boss alastor, established relationship (you were together before he went missing), loyal reader described, codependency kinda, some horror aspects?, descriptions of alastors dead food, alastor admits his emotions and issues in an alastor way, brief descriptions of reader having self sabotaging habits- drinking smoking/potsmoking too, GN reader although clit is used, penetrative sex, slow sex, swearing, alastor doesn’t like pillow talk lol i think that’s it but let me know not proof read
5.1K words
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Alastor was locked up in his radio tower, exhausted as he sifted through various forms of media coverage from his battle. Vox, the little electronic weasel, had his entire affair with Adam recorded and broadcasted around, which was frightful for Alastors image. Not only had he been gone for seven years, but he’s helping with a hotel that endorsed goodness. Needless to say Alastor wasn’t doing okay, his ears were constantly pulled back, smile strained, and he kept blowing the lights up and down. Hell, his static was so violent it even gave him headaches.
Even his shadows at this point began causing chaos, his own anxiousness and frustration bleeding off into them. Alastors isolation caused you to be extremely worried, you weren’t there while he fought Adam, you should’ve been, because since then he’s not been the same. You saw it on TV, the one Vox had broadcasted. Try as he may, Alastor didn’t keep it away long enough for you to not see, there was always someone else putting it back out there.
You didn’t bring it up to him- not that you could; he was too overly consumed in his tower. Incessantly shutting down broadcasts, throwing out power, attacking minor demons for spreading the information. It made you feel so very many unfortunate emotions, never in your many years of being dead have you ever seen him so erratic and emotionally disturbed.
Alastor would play pretend in public but you knew him, as did Husk, the two of you could tell he was tense, strained, constantly ready to snap, his poise was harder to keep. Lucifer presence in the hotel didn’t help at either, constantly trying to get into it with Alastor, which only furthered his isolation. You began to feel extremely lonely, it was rare in hell anyone was a good shoulder to cry on, or ear to hear, but you got used to going to Al after a long day, laying your head on his lap as he caressed your face and hummed you tunes, now you were alone most the time. None of his silly jokes filled the air, no you barging into your shared room and him attempting to hide his messy eating, no soft jazz playing next to you as you slept, no shadows trying to scare you, nothing.
It was incredibly lonely and the time without him showed how emotionally dependent you were on him. You wondered if he felt the same lonesomeness without you around, or if he didn’t even want you around? Maybe he was too wrapped up in his feelings to realize you weren’t around him? Did he have the same need for you as you did him? Did he miss little things about you as you did him.
Throwing your body off the couch and standing pin straight, you cut your thoughts off by marching towards Alastors tower on the far end of the hotel. You hadn’t been up there once since the battle, so this was bound to be interesting, and anxiety inducing. You could already feel the worry prickling your finger tips, making you even more uncomfortable. Knocking at Alastors door was, well, underwhelming, there was no sound, no movement, no indication he was even in there. Even shouting out at him normally would’ve gotten him to at least respond by now, it was rare he left people hanging like that, it wasn’t how he was brought up.
So you decide to cross the boundary you knew he loathed; intrusion. You entered with your breath held tightly making your throat clench, walking in you meekly hummed out his name. “Al? It’s been a long couple of days, I was wondering if you wanted some down time?” Your eyes bounced around the dark room, papers on the floor, radio frequency buzzing harshly in your ears, the low buzz of what sounded like hospital lights, it was all very creepy
Wringing your hands you came up toward his large table connected with cables and speakers, on the table was cups of coffee empty and half drank, corpses and bones of unfinished mutilated deer, and the smell of blood was something that suddenly hit you nearly knocking you back. As you covered your nose with your wrist, you back up and bumped into something, turning around with incredible speed. Alastor was there, taller than usual with his bones looking sharp and broken in his skin, his smile was stretched gruesomely making you nearly grimace, his eyes as well, wildly glaring down at you black and soulless. “Uh, I missed you.” You squeaked curling into yourself just at the sight of him.
Alastor hasn’t ever looked like this in front of you ever, it was such an abnormal and alarming look for you to set your eyes on. Alastor let out a jagged breath, his antlers growing in size with a nasty crunching sound to accompany it. “You disturbed my work, and snuck in, all because you missed me?” Alastor bent down to grab your attention, your eyes flickering to meet his own. You nodded at him, and he only hummed in return, standing tall and walking around his desk to sit at his chair. You turned on your heel to follow his movements, biting your lip with worry. Sure you were anxious before as you typically got with anybody, you weren’t confrontational and you weren’t one to cross the boundary, although you never expected him to look so angry with you.
“Perhaps, if that’s the case, you should find yourself another demon; I cannot be surrounded by the meek and emotionally stunted. My work, my image, will always come first my dear. Now, get out.” Alastor enunciated every word with his hands rested under his chin, and his head cocked to the side. Your stomach dropped and your cheeks watered like you were about to be sick, immediately your eyes widened, noises falling out of your mouth as you attempted to grasp at the words you were trying to say. “S-You’re breaking up with me?” Your voice was a wreck, struggling to expel the words past the sob that wanted to rip out of you, the disbelief evident in your tone. Alastor stood from his seat and leaned toward your face over the table, your lip quivered as he did so, trying your hardest not to cry.
“Heavens no! I’m simply saying if you can’t handle being a secondary priority perhaps you should take some time alone, remember what it is to be your own person! I will not bend my rules for some silly relationship.” His tone dripped with condescension and he finished his sentence with a boop on your nose. The only thing your mind could conjure was ‘how dare he?’ you never felt so insulted by him before. You always put him first, you waited seven years for his return defending his role in hell, and he sees you as secondary to himself. Does that mean he would save himself before you? Was this relationship only about his own desires, his own cravings and you weren’t important? You must be too sensitive about this?
“So you won’t spare me a moment because some stupid TV proved you aren’t invincible? Grow up Alastor please,” You could help the rage that slipped out in between your words, fists clenching, eyes narrowing. Alastor hissed statically at you. “Don’t for a second get it twisted up in your pretty little head that you are special, you are just like every other disposable sinner, i suggest you monitor your tone with me, dear.” Alastor crackled, his voice more electric than you’ve ever heard before. Your frown was deep, the tears silently falling down your cheeks. You didn’t even know what to say, instead you just shrugged with your head low, and turned around silently leaving him behind.
The moment you existed his tower you ran, your brain screamed to get away before somebody could question what was wrong or what happened. You couldn’t stomach the idea of being seen like this, and you didn’t want Alastor to come out and catch you, so you took off. You exited out the back without a trace, wandering into the streets of the pentagram. Eventually you found yourself back at your old apartment, which you still paid for as you really don’t plan to continue living at the hotel. When you got there you were finally able to let everything settle in you, it felt like the sadness slipped into your bones and weighed you down further into your sofa.
You didn’t move for hours, and eventually you ended up falling asleep. You left without a word, without your phone and without any of your stuff. Of course Alastor was very aware he made the choice to say the things he did, but he didn’t mean them, and after a short bit of reflection he could understand it was just an emotional response to the fear of being vulnerable. As well as the anxious thought dancing in his mind about the what ifs, what if he were to die, what if his plan fails and the deal goes wayward and you’re left with the pieces of his mess? What if Vox targets you, what if others do, do the citizens of hell see him as some weak mush because he’s dating you?
It’s all what led him to exploding; insecurity. Even the thought of having such a low tier emotion made his blood boil, but as long as nobody knew about it, he would find a way to quell it. Alastor waited, not wanting to impose while you were still going through thee emotions. However things started getting worrisome by the next day, nearly thirty hours into being gone and the patrons had begun to question him. Obviously Alastor didn’t know, and instead opted to sway the topic away from you and instead to something else.
The week came and gone like a blur, Alastor hadn’t seen you since you came into his tower and the rest of the hotel had set out to look for you with no luck. Alastor kept to his tower, telling himself if you wanted to be away that was your choice; he wasn’t chasing you like some lost puppy. Though he did find himself briefly wondering if you were still alive, after all Vox was out there watching through cameras on every corner and Adam’s corpse went missing and wasn’t accounted for, there was many threats to your safety he hadn’t thought of before.
With a sigh of static frustration, Alastor flicked his hand giving the okay to his right hand shadow to go find you, he couldn’t stand his thoughts anymore. And so it did, within seconds the shadow zipped and zoomed knowing exactly where you were, not that you were trying to hide. It slinked up against the paint peeling wall of your apartment, watching you on the couch, news softly sounding out as you read a book. Your home was a wreck, looking as though you’ve had fits upon fits of rage and lacked to clean after. Dishes piled, laundry scattered all across the linoleum floors. Alcohol, pot and cigarettes were a hefty scent in the room, it didn’t accompany the damp mold smell well at all. Oh what a thing you’d become without Alastor! The shadow watched like a fly on the wall for varying moments, studying you and your state before vaporising into the floor and taking off back to its master.
Honestly, you weren’t expecting Alastor to come knocking at your apartment door, so when you swung it open expecting your usual delivery guy, you were shocked and you didn’t bother fixing your depressed appearance. “Goodness gracious my little dame it looks like you’ve been dragged through mud!” Alastor laughed boisterously using his microphone to push you aside and barge in. You stood aside speechless, watching as he stepped inside with his hands rested just above his tail, surveying the room around him. His neck cracked disgustingly, his body forward while his head faced you, his grin tamed. “What happened here?” The words were simple but his tone was confusing, you couldn’t tell if he was angry, suspicious, or worried. You sneered at him, lip twitching upward as you slammed the door and wordlessly returned to your spot on the couch.
“I didn’t expect you to search, work come first yknow.” Oh yes, you planned to milk the words he said against you to berate him and his attempts to make up, you were in hell for a reason after all. Alastor huffed- like a buck would, something uncharacteristic for him to do outside of being alone with you, which sickeningly made your heart flutter, he still trusted you in a way, did that mean you were still his? You always told him he was more deer then he’d like to admit and those huffs were one of those deer attributes. “Hm yes, but you’ve been quite the work, I hope you know.” You clenched your teeth, trying not to snap instantly, but you did send him a glare.
You muttered about how that didn’t make things any better when he snapped his fingers, all things garbage vanishing in a pinch, mold included. “Ah, much better! My mother always said the state of the house is the state of the mind!” A round of applause sounds from his microphone as he laughed, rounding the couch with a slow stride. “Tell me, would you like to talk?” It felt more condescending then genuine, the way he was bent forward with lidded eyes and an eased smile, like you were some child having a tantrum. “No, Al, you made what you said pretty fuckin clear, i don’t wanna be with you if I am some chore or job, or secondary whatever!- i wanna be your partner and you want me to be a pet? Yeah, no thanks.” You punctuated your sentence with a dramatic scoff, flopping back into the cushions with your arms folded protectively across your chest.
“Ahhh my little doudou,” Alastor chided, sitting himself flush to you, arm around the back of the couch to trap you near him. “I want you to listen to me, and listen to me closely because i will never admit this again!” Alastor exclaimed this with what sounded to be false confidence and a slight hint of exasperation. He pinched your chin in between his claws forcing you to look at him, and of course you did, what else were you to do? “I have become a fool, all across the pentagram, I’m held by ball and chain— the devil my dear! The devil is- some frazzled little nitwit with all the power and no ambition!” Alastors fist clenched at the mention of Lucifer, abandoning your chin to do so. “I was feared my dear, nobody dared to test my authority, and now i’m an assumed bellboy for the princess and her gaggle of misfits. You,” Alastor paused leaning in so close your noses touched.
“My dear, were the only one i actually wouldn’t mind being weakened for.” You couldn’t stop the comical ‘huh’ that gargled straight from your throat. “What does that even mean Alastor.” You whine throwing your head back bumping his arm as you did so, an unknowing invitation to slide it down, hand caressing your shoulder softly. “It means dear, I didn’t mean what i said, because i’ve already done those exact things in the past! I’ve missed countless radio shows from you, refrained from eating deer around you- for your sake. I’ve held you to me on every block knowing Vox could see us perfectly! You were my chosen weakness, darling, but with all these other useless sinners belittling my role in hell, i took it out on you,”
Pausing Alastors static faded in and out, you watched his eyes closely, but the real give away was the way his ear subtly tilted to the side looking like a sad puppy. “I felt what i said, I felt weak and I knew you needed me and didn’t want to feel this weakness anymore, so logically-” You scoffed with a small smirk, mockingly muttering ‘logically’ back at him. “-I had to try to appear as though I am what I originally intended to be.” He finished giving you a pointed look. Shifting your body to face him more, you analysed his body language and face. Typically- no matter how long you’ve been together- he was amazing at hiding his emotions, always seeming to be happy. It seemed like he let his guard down however, his eyebrows were furrowed and pointed upward, his smile tight, shoulders rigid and his breathing shallow. Anticipation was evident by the way his hoof tapped against the floor with beat.
You finally let you emotion reignite, the tears slipped down your face like rivers as you gently shook your head. “What did you intend to be?” You asked softly, an unattractive spit bubble forming as you opened your mouth. “A ruler of sorts, i suppose. Emotionless, cruel, untouchable. I tried to reaffirm to myself by being cruel to you my dear, that i was still a demon, not the altruist teddy bear they all dubbed me as.” Alastors form had finally slumped, sinking into the cushions alongside you, his head falling back gazing up at the ceiling. You caved just slightly at his admission, and rested your head on his chest near his armpit, your body sinking into his. Suddenly he perked up, looking down at you, you reflexively shooting your gaze up to him.
“Yknow they made a mockery of my speech as well my dear! Preposterous, darling, many sinners posted about me being ‘cringe’, my speech was ‘corny’, my dearest can you believe that?” You almost took offence to the fact he sounded more distraught over being made fun of rather than hurting you, but you reminded yourself that Alastor was trying to open up, and you weren’t gonna ruin that. “Is that why you were killing randos instead of overlords?” You asked feeling more relaxed than you had before, obviously there was many words in between you two unsaid, but you wanted to bask in the small talk you craved for so long from him just a little longer.
“Precisely. I’m proud you noticed.” You hummed with a small smile, your head resting back on his chest. “Why did it take so long for you to come?” Despite not even thinking he would, you now had the knowledge he didn’t actually hate you, and if he didn’t why’d he drag it out? “Pride,” What would’ve been a hoarse voice to any other demon, was a staticy robotic sound that crackled out of his chest. “This is way out of my comfort my dear, i didn’t and still don’t know what to say or do, and i don’t like being out of control.” You whimpered at that, curling up into him, your legs slinging over his thighs so you could cuddle up next to him. Immediately his arms engulfed you, pulling you into him with a happy hum, his neck craning to kiss your head softly.
“i missed you, you really hurt me, bad. Don’t do it again.” You state firmly though it was muffled by the fabric of his coat, the one you had your face nuzzled into. Alastor hummed out softly petting you on your head, just like he would before. “Never again doudou~, you have my word, and i promise to make it up to you.” Tiling your head upward you yanked at his colar, and he immediately ducked down meeting your lips at will. The kiss was soft and Alastor could feel the dampness from your tears on your chin against him. After a moment you both pulled away, although not far from eachother your lips were practically still touching.
“Why don’t I give you some attention my sweet doe.” Alastor cooed against your lips, you could hear the mischief in his tone as his hand pawed your hips. You blinked slowly at him, an instant twist of desire appearing low in your gut. “How?” Alastors grin widened for the first time since appearing at your door, and you feared you’d truly be in for it tonight. “Oh my, have i neglected your needs so long you need to inquire how?” Alastor question was rhetorical only furthered by the way he kissed his teeth with his index finger coming up to shake side to side. “That simply will not do!” Standing suddenly, with you in his arms, made you gasp and clutch onto him instinctively. You smacked his chest playfully, muttering to him about being too heavy, he however ignored you, walking toward your old room with his head held high.
The room in question was a mess, and a thick layer of dust coated every object that wasn’t being continually used, like the nightstand, and the lamp. Alastor didn’t care much though, he never did care whether you were messy or super clean he’d always snap his fingers to assist you, and that’s exactly what he did. Slowly around the room things cleared up, his shadows slunk into the room with strange looking candles setting a romantic tone for the room. The bed was remade neatly when he set you on it gently, watching your doe eyes stare up at him with a familiar intensity that always made him fidgety. You let him flop you down without complaint, after all it wasn’t always that Alastor seemed so interested in getting down and dirty.
Standing above you, Alastor grinned down at you with lidded eyes, letting his long fingers dance down his chest to undo his buttons. He wasn’t really a fan of trying to appear sexually appealing to those around him, he’d never admit how out of the ordinary, and awkward it felt, but he knew you. You were his. You were loyal. You waited seven years just for him, never spilling a single secret. Secretly, he was way more comfortable with trying to appear “sexy” for you, because he knew no matter what, you wouldn’t look at him any differently. Alastor shrugged off his jacket, his button down shirt open exposing his chest to you. “Y'know dear,” A bit of southern drawl slipped out, as the mask he wore slipped away with his jacket. “You give me a very special outlet i do not think i’d have with any other sinner, you’re too kind to me.” Pulling off his shirt, he folded it and set it aside, kicking off his slacks right after, leaving himself in his boxers and long socks.
You watched him undress with wide eyes, you wanted nothing more then being pressed against the warmth of him, absorbing his touch. You however stayed still, letting Alastor relax into the mood as he rid himself of clothes. Alastor sat on the edge of the bed, right beside your hips, his hand traced lightly up and down your torso, occasionally dipping down to your thighs. You felt tense at the touch, both anticipation and insecurity making you feel stiff. Suddenly his claw hooked around the band of both your undergarments and pants, his eyes flickering up to inspect you when he did so. “May I?” His voice was soft, the usual uncertainty present as he felt out of his realm. “Yes, please.” You sigh, your tone nearly whiny. “I missed you so much Alastor,” You admit hushed as his claws brushed down your thighs with your clothes. Once off, Alastor leaned down, giving soft pecks to your thighs, eyes staring up to you through his red lashes. “Yes dear, my life been painstaking without you.” He whispered against your flesh, sharp teeth dragging up past your hips, nose bumping the cloth of your shirt. Sitting up slightly, you were preparing to slid your shirt over your head when Alastors body slid between your legs, claws coming up to pinch and lift the fabric exposing your chest.
With him now face to face with you, leaned over your body, you caved. Your hands slid around his neck guiding him toward you slowly, your lips met instantly like two magnets being held just inches apart. It was a sweet kiss for the most part, your lips meshed against his as you let him control the pace, it was nice with Alastor you always had enough time for the heat to simmer and grow, making foreplay unnecessary most times because he naturally took his time. You raked your fingers through his hair, nails scratching up his scalp causing ripples of goosebumps down his arms. Alastor slipped his tongue delicately licked at your lip, brushing as soft as ever. You were a bit shocked at this, typically he wasn’t into french kissing, lamenting that the whole tongue thing was messy and disgusting feeling. However you didn’t fight him, only allowed him access, which he immediately took with ease slipping his tongue against your own.
His body collided into yours, nose bumping your cheek as he angled his head. Your hands slipped down his back, smiling against his lips at the feeling of his tail wagging back and forth making small gusts of wind against your fingertips. Alastor nipped at your lips in retaliation, hands roaming your body as he pushed his hips up to softly grind his hard on into you. You hummed at the feeling of him against you, angling your hips back and up pressing your wetness against his briefs. Your body was buzzing while Alastor slowly grinded himself down on you, his clothed head travelling between your folds and back up to poke at your clit. The kiss had broken as he continued on, your breathing shaky as you enjoyed the slow motion of him above you, his teeth scraping down the length of your neck.
Alastor couldn’t help the groan that bubbled out of him. Not only could he smell your arousal but he could smell just you. He pressed his face to the nape of your neck, kissing and inhaling, loving the smell you had naturally on your skin. He also got quite the kick out of hearing the blood rush through your veins, it made him feel feral knowing you would bare yourself to him so willingly, he had you around his finger. Alastor let his lips glide down your body, leaving bite marks down your chest and neck as he did so, hips still moving slowly against you. You had soaked his briefs making the fabric feel absent, clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock slide through your folds. “Please Al, I need you.” You whined pathetically, pressing your hips up into his. Alastors choppy breath warmed your collar bone, his forehead rested on your shoulder, eyes closed as he slipped his hand down, yanking himself out of his boxers.
Sometimes he felt like an untrained dog, he couldn’t help but want to hump into you without restraint, but that wasn’t him, that was desire, and he knew how to hold back. As he sunk into you, slowly, he breathed out the quietest of noises against you shoulder, basking in you. You could hear his quiet noises clearly since he was so close, you bite your lip at the sound of him, loving how he always let you see him so wrecked. When Alastors hips were flush with your own, your legs came up around his hips, his tail stiff, while your arms wrapped around his neck, your right hand dragging up his scalp to his ears. “I like hearing you, Alastor,” You gasped as he jolted into you, like an involuntary reaction to your praise. “It makes me feel you.” You finished breathlessly. Alastor hummed against you, setting his pace slow and deep, barely pulling away before he pushed hard back inside you.
Your eyes were wide as he continued this rhythm, to you it was incredibly overwhelming, he never left you vacant always hungry to fill you right back up with him. His pants against you were also adding to your arousal, his eyelashes fluttered against your skin ever now and again as he attempted to contain himself. You knew he was sort of embarrassed with himself feeling pleasure, so you never egged him on when he did start making noise, but lord you wanted more. You tugged Alastors hair softly, pulling him up for a sloppy opened mouth kiss. He barely opened his eyes as he mushed his lips against yours, snaking his tongue against your own, bucking up faster into you at the warmth of your mouth. “I missed you, i love you,” You cried against his lips pathetically, your body’s both rocking on the bed as Alastor hurried his pace.
Alastor let out a low guttural noise, something from the back of his throat making your toes curl, pulling at his hips with your legs. “I couldn’t- stand you being away, dear.” Alastors face was inches from your own, forehead rested on yours, lips brushing against each other as he spoke. “Never again will i be such a fool, you’re mine forever.” Alastor growled through his clenched teeth, claws ripping into the mattress as he spoke. Your mouth hung open, eyebrows raised as you tried to from some sort of praise, but now his eyes were open looking down at you with such intensity and emotion, and his pace fast hard putting your body straight into the mattress. You didn’t even feel your orgasm coming on when it did, your body arching up into his, crying out his name alongside pleas.
The display of you in front of him was so pornographic, something he wasn’t fond of seeing but now understood why people were. You were gorgeous right now, your face red, your eyes watering, your body folded up towards his, all the scars, folds marks on your body, all for his eyes only. Groaning loudly, he fell back into his favourite place, your neck, and let out a deep breathless static moan as he came. You clutched him the entire time through watery blurred eyes, enjoying the feeling of him inside you post orgasm. Pulling away, Alastor was quick to pull out and away, snapping his fingers he began to clean you with a cloth. “Disgusting of me,” He muttered, seemingly angrily. “No, it was good Al, you’re allowed to. You’re not disgusting and neither was the sex, believe me.” You coo, sitting up from your position, a dopey look on your face. In a snap, Alastor was redressed as were you, in leisure clothing. “We’re going back to the hotel to sleep my little doe.” Alastor spoke softly, lending his hand to you, humming you took his hand letting him take you through his magic, back to the hotel. You knew Alastor didn’t like to lay sticky in the remnants of sex like many others, and probably would push you to shower before getting in his bed. But that way okay, you loved him regardless, and you really missed having his attention.
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cemeterything · 2 days
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PLEASE elaborate on “davidelizabeth in alien covenant if i wrote it” they squandered her potential so bad !
okay so first all i have already talked about how i feel that covenant should have built on the sticky psychosexual gothic horror tension between david and shaw and developed it into a toxic codependent dynamic (that predictably ends poorly due to their fundamentally opposing ideological stances as well as one-sided obsession on david's side), so i'm going to attach that rather than rehash it.
but honestly if i'd written covenant i would have had elizabeth survive david long enough to establish herself on the engineer planet in hiding from him (following a "breakup" caused by his act of genocide), and have the arrival of the colonists in covenant be the catalyst that forces them to confront each other again and finish what they started. i'm not entirely certain of the specifics, but i think there's a lot you could do with the central themes of alien as a cosmic/existential horror (a story about horrifying revelations, terrible change and progress/evolution that is unrecognisable as anything but nightmarish to the human minds bearing witness), a body horror narrative focused on sexual assault, pregnancy and childbirth/parenthood, and an examination of extraterrestrial horror as this colonial mindset - the fear of being violently replaced by something that deems itself better than you and works ruthlessly to eradicate you from your places of safety which it has taken for its own - as well as the more prometheus-specific themes of parental trauma and religion (mostly christianity) by making the core conflict between david and his xenomorphs and elizabeth and humanity, like a sort of fucked up retelling of adam and eve in the garden of eden.
to tie up loose ends, since prometheus and covenant are meant to be prequels to the original alien films, i'd probably have elizabeth succeed in being the final girl (a parallel to ripley in the original franchise) but tragically go into self-imposed exile/die alone in an attempt to prevent the xenomorphs from being stumbled across by future explorers and becoming a threat again, as well as possibly out of some warped sense of guilt, both for having allowed herself to ever love david and believe him capable of change, and for failing to save him ("save" very much in the biblical sense, as in persuade him to share her point of view and abandon his descent down a dark path). needless to say, she doesn't succeed, making her "victory" all the more phyrric.
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bratzforchris · 2 days
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Goldfish
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Summary: Matt has a chronic illness that the nurses at his local clinic are all too familiar with. The new nurse in town hasn't had a chance to meet him yet, but what happens when she does?
Pairing: Matt x nursefem!reader
Warnings: Mentions of needles and blood, chronic illness, use of medical steroids, flirty nurse!reader (this is all fiction!), Matt is 20/reader is 23, Matt has a service dog!!
Word Count: Just over 2k
A/N: This is lowkey inspired by the experience I had a few days ago with a flirty nurse while I was in the ER (I'm still thinking about him--had me giggling n kicking my feet n shit like I was in a rom com [this is definitely a story time]). ANYWAY, Matt has PFAPA (my chronic illness!) here. It's usually a childhood thing, but some rare cases like myself don't grow out of it. You can read more about it here, if you'd like. Enjoy!!
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Matt Sturniolo is all too familiar with his local pediatric emergency room. In fact, he’s been there so many times that the nurses have started to treat him as less of a patient, and more of a friend. “Hey Matt!”, “How’s YouTube going, Matt?”, “I remember you!”,  “I saw you last time!”, and the list went on. Some might ask why he still went there at almost 21, but when you had a chronic illness, it was best to see the people who had been caring for you for years if you could. These nurses had been caring for him at least once a month, ever since he was 12, and were usually quite skilled in how to manage the brunette’s comfort. 
Matt had PFAPA, which left him with high fevers and extremely sore, almost strep like sore throats every month. It was a miserable thing to live, and it really impacted his happiness, especially on days like today when he was having one of the worst flare ups he’d had in a long time and both Nick and Chris were unable to come along with him to the doctor. Luckily for Matt, he had his service dog, Emily, with him, but he still longed for a human companion as well. While some people wondered why he ‘needed’ a service dog, Matt’s disability was invisible. Emily would let him know when his flare ups were starting as well as laying on him to soothe his body aches and chills and helping with his anxiety at doctor visits. 
The nurse tech took him into the back rather quickly, running their usual tests of strep, the flu, and COVID. About 98% of the time, they would all come back negative, but the hospital staff liked to do all they could to make Matt more comfortable. Sure enough, the nurse practitioner stepped in about 30 minutes later, a sad look on her face. 
“How are you feeling, Matt?”
Matt shrugged, grimacing as his throat ached when he swallowed. “‘M not great.” he murmured, petting his pup’s head softly as the anxiety welled in his chest. 
“Well, everything came back negative,” she told, a sad look on her face. “We can test you for mono, though. You have a lot of the symptoms for that. That one is a blood test. We’re also going to give you an IV since you’re dehydrated.”
That sentence alone made him want to cry. Despite the tattoos and piercings he had, Matt hated medical needles. They hurt and they freaked him out. Sensing his anxiety, Emily scooted closer to Matt, whining softly and butting his leg with her head. Matt pet the dog’s head softly, steadying himself to get his breath. “Okay…” he breathed, steadying himself. 
The nurse practitioner patted his leg gently, hurrying out of the room to attend to her other patients. Matt began to panic, his breathing rapidly increasing as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t want any of this. He just wanted them to tell him what was wrong so he could get some meds, go home, and sleep. Patting the bed he was laying on gently, Emily hopped up, curling into Matt’s side. The pooch rested her head on her owner’s chest, subconsciously working to slow the brunette’s heart rate. 
A few minutes later, another nurse and a lab tech stepped into the small room he was in, holding a tray full of supplies. Matt squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the sight, already dreading the feeling of getting blood drawn. Both healthcare workers were very kind, of course, whispering soft nothings to him as they patted his leg and prepared to draw his blood. They promised him that the procedure would be quick and easy, but those words never mixed well with a chronic illness. 
“Your vein rolled because you’re dehydrated. We’re going to have to draw from your other arm.” the lab tech informed him.
“O…kay.” Matt whispered shakily, trying to get his breath and the feeling in his hand back. 
The brunette knew that it was okay to cry, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. He was a grown man, laying here in a kid’s hospital room, trying not to cry while they tried to draw his blood again in his right arm. Unfortunately for Matt, the dehydration he was experiencing from his extremely sore throat caused his vein to roll again.
“Oh sweetheart,” the nurse said sympathetically, patting his leg. “We’re going to give you a minute, okay? Let’s get some water and Gatorade in you before we try again.”
Matt just nodded as he was passed a mini water bottle and a cherry Gatorade. He was hearing their words, but honestly, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he was going to be poked and prodded again, and he didn’t like it. Emily snuggled into his side, whining softly and brushing her sandpaper tongue against her owner’s arm, trying desperately to get Matt to feel better. 
“Alright, honey,” the sweet, older nurse stepped into Matt’s room again, holding a fresh tub of supplies to draw his blood. “Let’s try it in your left hand, okay?”
Because chronic illness never made things easy, the third time was still a failure, leaving Matt with an already bruising hand and tears pricking his eyes. Before he knew it, he was being shoved a packet of goldfish crackers, a popsicle, and more water, being informed that he had to eat before they could try again. The snacks felt like swallowing shrapnel, making the boy cringe every time he had to swallow. 
“Hello, oldest patient of the day!” You cheered, practically walking into Matt’s room on a cloud of glitter. 
Matt jumped in shock, petting his dog’s head to calm his racing heart. “...hi…” he mumbled. 
“They called me in for backup,” You explained, a smile on your face. You absolutely loved nursing, and every day at your job truly felt like a gift. You’d graduated from nursing school last year at the top of your class and had been working in the pediatric emergency room ever since. It wasn’t every day that you had a patient who was 20, but you didn’t mind. “We’re getting this blood draw this time so you can get the fuck out of here,” You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind if I curse.”
For the first time all day, a small giggled made its way out of Matt’s mouth. “No, I’m okay.”
“I see you have a buddy,” You commented. “That’s nice.”
“She helps my…anxiety.” Matt seemingly chose his words carefully, but they still made you smile. It was clear that the boy had a bond with his pup. 
“I’m gonna look at your tonsils first so we can get you some medicine to help you swallow and then we’ll draw your blood, okay?” You asked, wanting to make sure your patient was comfortable with everything. 
At the mention of a blood draw, Matt’s blue eyes widened with anxiety, his body becoming visibly tense. You had become in tune with this, sliding on a pair of pink latex gloves and patting the soft material of the pajama pants on his knee. 
“Hey, look at me,” You murmured softly, waiting for his response. Once Matt had looked at you, you chugged on. “We’re just chilling, okay? I’m not going to do anything yet.”
Matt nodded, letting out an anxious breath he’d been holding. “Okay.” he whispered. 
You grabbed the flashlight to look in his throat off the wall. “Alright, I’m pretty sure you know the drill,” You chuckled. “Open and say ‘ahhh!’...oh yeah, you’ve got an icky throat. That looks like it hurts. Although…did you have a blue popsicle? You’ve got blue tonsils. It’s rather endearing.”
Matt flushed, his ears going red as he nodded. You smiled softly, throwing away the cap and hanging the flashlight back on the wall. You gave the boy the steroidal liquid the nurse practitioner had drawn up for him to ease the swelling in his throat, a blush creeping onto your face as Matt scrunched his eyes up at the disgusting taste, quite literally making grabby hands for his Gatorade. 
“Fuck, that’s gross.” he whined. 
“At least you got it over with!” You hummed cheerfully, in a small aim to make him feel better. “Unfortunately, it’s time for the bad part, but we can make it a little less shitty if you want? Maybe you could play me some music? Something you like, okay?” 
Matt fiddled with his phone for a moment before landing on Dominic Fike’s latest release. You smiled at the lyrics, releasing this was one of your favorite songs at the moment. You prepped the materials needed to finally get Matt’s blood drawn for the mono test, patting his knee gently in an effort to calm his trembling frame as he rubbed his pup’s head. 
“Hey, can I tell you something?” You whispered shyly, setting him up for the procedure. “You’ve got goldfish in your teeth–it’s really cute.” You giggled, your own cheeks becoming red. 
The brunette whined, breathing deeply as you began to draw his blood. “That’s embarrassing.” he grunted. 
A few deep breaths and small, sad noises later, you had finally gotten the sample needed. “We got it!” You told Matt excitedly, placing a Barney band aid across the site. “All done!”
You bustled around the room, making sure Matt was comfortable, throwing away your supplies, and making notes on your clipboard. You helped the boy drink water and got him (and Emily) a blanket, before taking his samples down to the lab to get checked out. By the time everything was said and done, an hour had passed and Matt was asleep against the small bed when you knocked on his door. 
“Hey sleepyhead,” You giggled, stepping into the room. “Nice nap?” Matt fisted his eyes, nodding as you went over his discharge instructions. You always hated releasing patients with no explanations or answers as to why they felt so bad, but in cases like Matt’s, that wasn’t always possible. Your best bet was to make him as comfortable as possible here. “Do you have any questions?”
The brunette shook his head, finally able to speak now that the steroids were beginning to work their magic on his throat. “No, but thank you. You’ve been the best nurse I’ve had all day…maybe even ever.”
You blushed at the compliment, helping the boy stand since you knew he was already exhausted, dehydrated, and lightheaded from having his blood drawn. “Do you need help getting to your car? I actually just got off.” You murmured shyly, glancing at the clock on the wall. 
Despite Matt’s steadiness on his feet and his grip on Emily’s leash, the blue-eyed boy nodded all the same, a quietly flustered look crossing his face. You smiled yourself, maneuvering Matt out to his car with a firm, yet gentle hand on his lower back. Thankfully, the waiting room had quieted down quite a bit now that it was nearing the evening, so no one questioned or pulled you away from walking Matt out. It was a slow trek with your patient being a bit unsteady on his feet, but you didn’t mind. Matt’s presence made you happy in an odd sort of way; you hated that he wasn’t well and that this would continue to happen for him, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about seeing him again. 
“I um…I hope this isn’t weird, but I would really like to see you again. Maybe another time? When you’re not in pain?” You coughed and chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. 
He smiled as he slid into the driver’s seat, rubbing his aching head that was seemingly getting better just by being around you. “I’d like that,” he offered. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”
Matt didn’t end up leaving his trip to the hospital with many answers beside the usual ‘It’s your chronic illness’, but what he did end up leaving with was your phone number scribbled onto a pink sticky note that he had been given in the parking lot. 
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tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy
note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3
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nondualiber · 2 days
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real useful things i've realized about loa while i was "resting" from tumblr & overconsumption:
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• stop gaslighting yourself, make actual change instead. you know when you're not doing it right. if you spiral, get desperate, dwell in the old story... well, i've got some news. -- this might seem obvious but for me it wasn't. i was super desperate, giving like 1 step forward 50 steps back but i still played blind bc i thought that if i just said "oh no but my mindset doesn't matter" that would solve all my problems. damn
• WHAT WORKS FOR YOU. ik EVERYONE says this but omfg. i can NOT stress this enough. actually find what works for you. i used to think that my key (decide once n keep going with my day) was not a "correct" way to do it bc it made "no sense" or wtv, but now i've manifested a lot of things with that method & i'm so proud of myself for doing so :,,) wdym with "works for you"? whatever makes you confident enough to not spiral, to believe you actually have what you want, to not pay attention to the 3d & doesn't make manifesting feel like chore but something that comes naturally for you is the correct way to do it. trust your feelings, your intuition, yourSelf; they don't lie
• work on your manifesting concept, a.k.a trust in law. we talk a lot about "self" concept but not about "manifesting" concept. for me, i (kind of) believed i could manifest, i just didn't believe 100% in law. i still don't, but i've gotten considerably better!! my best tip to build trust in law was to start manifesting things that were "easier", more archivable, but not happening on a daily basis so i'd know if it was my manifestation turned reality
• stop consuming. not over-consuming but just consuming, literally. don't read neville, don't open tumblr, don't listen to edward nor any other coach! again, this one was obvious to everyone but me. trust me, you already know everything you need. "but i actually put in practice what i read!" yeah, but which one? you read 100 methods everyday. consuming is thinking from the 3d, and long-term it will demotivate you. trust me
• and last one, forget about deadlines. "when will i have it?" now. "where?" here. now and here. keep that mindset, and tbh in one week it'll be done
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hgfictionwriter · 3 days
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Sickness
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie's just about to make her big debut with the Thorns and she insists on taking care of you even if it means she may get sick.
Warnings: None
A/N: In response to this request. I completely agree - Jessie would revel in taking care of her partner.
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You winced as your alarm rang in your ears. You blindly pawed along the nightstand looking for your phone and turned off the grating sound with relief. You laid out on your back and frowned deeper. Your head was pounding. You inhaled deeply and quickly realized you were congested.
"Oh no."
You opened your eyes and saw light filtering in through the crack in the doorway to your ensuite bathroom; you heard the shower running. Jessie must've gone for a run already.
You forced yourself to sit up in bed and involuntarily winced once more as a sharp pang shot through your head at the movement. This wasn't good.
You cleared your throat, nearly coughing at how inflamed you discovered your throat to be. You got out of bed and made your way to the entryway of the new apartment you and Jessie shared. You'd taken possession a couple of days ago, and though a few boxes remained, you'd mostly unpacked and settled in. Neither of you being particularly materialistic made moving a much easier ordeal than it may have been otherwise.
You looked in the mirror that was freshly hung up and a low grumble emanated painfully from your throat. Though you looked okay for the most part, the bags under your eyes told a different story.
Your ears perked up as you heard the shower turn off and you rushed over to the kitchen, your mind scrambling to remember where you'd decided to store meds. You quickly found the bottle of painkillers and poured yourself a glass of water and hurriedly downed a couple of pills before tucking the bottle away to hide the evidence. You ignored how the pills went down like a couple of razor blades.
You were pouring more water when you heard Jessie pad into the hallway.
"Hey babe," she greeted.
You glanced up, working to rid yourself of the panicked feeling that still lingered. You smiled at her - a very easy feat when your eyes fell upon her in her sweats and a baggy t-shirt as she towel-dried her curly, wet hair. You cleared your throat as subtly as you could.
"Morning." To your relief, your voice sounded alright. For now.
"Did you sleep okay?" She asked as she crossed over to you with a hint of a frown on her face. "You were tossing and turning a lot."
"I'm sorry," you told her and she gave you a laugh.
"Don't be sorry. I'm sorry if you didn't sleep well," she said and wrapped her arms around you and leaned in to give you a kiss. You turned your head and her lips connected with your cheek. She pulled back with a discerning look.
"Everything okay?" She asked.
"Yeah, it's all good," you told her lightly as you removed yourself from her embrace and wandered over to the living room. You didn't know what you were doing, you just wanted to put as much space between you and her as possible. Her first day of training with the Thorns was tomorrow and the very last thing you wanted was for her to get sick.
You were reticent to tell her you were sick, too. Jessie was exceptionally thoughtful and caring, so if she knew you were sick, she would care for you even if it meant she'd get sick. You didn't want that in any case, but especially not with her being brand new on the team.
A mildly frustrated huff escaped you as you heard Jessie following you into the living room. You pointedly kept your back to her as you busied yourself studying one of your plants. You toyed with the leaves for a while and subtly shifted your gaze to the side, trying to peer at her as discretely as possible when you felt her hovering and not saying anything.
"I can book you a flight back home for a bit." Her voice was small, her words immediately pulling a deep frown out of you. You glanced over your shoulder at her in scrutiny, a low pang in your chest forming as you saw her standing somewhat dejected in the middle of the room.
"I know you came here just for me," she went on, her voice low as she tucked her hands into her pockets and looked up at you, her head hung slightly. "You left a lot behind. I don't take that for granted. I want to do whatever I can to make sure you're happy here. If you need to go back home more often or if I need to fly your friends or family out, I'm all for it. Whatever you need. I want you to be happy."
You turned around fully to face her. Sweet Jessie. Your beautiful, sweet, thoughtful Jessie. This is exactly why she was worth moving halfway around the world for. Your shoulders slumped as guilt crashed over you. You took in her sad, dark eyes and gave her a soft smile.
"Baby, I'm sorry. This," you gestured between here and the kitchen, "has nothing to do with any of that. I don't regret anything - I promise you. And I'm happy here with you. I know it won't always be easy, but we are solid - please know that." Her forehead was still creased in concern and you let out a small, embarrassed laugh. "I'm just being weird because I think I'm sick. I woke up with a pounding headache and my head's all congested, my throat hurts. And I do not want to get you sick."
You could visibly see the relief go through Jessie's body and she immediately took a couple large strides over to you. You immediately held up your hands and pressed against her chest as she tried to close the space between you.
"Babe! What did I just say?" You protested.
"I'll be fine!" She assured you as she pushed back and your half-hearted effort ceased. She held you tight and kissed your cheek. You indulged momentarily, wrapping your arms around her and leaning your head against hers. It always felt so warm and comforting in her arms.
You took a step back, putting your hands against her chest once more and gently pushing her back with a pointed look.
"That's all you get," you told her and she reluctantly let you push her back a couple of steps, her eyes not leaving yours.
"I'm going to take care of you," she told you in defiance and you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.
"This is why I didn't want to tell you."
"Why? Because I love my girlfriend and want to take care of her when she's sick? Well pardon me," she said dryly.
"Jessie," you pleaded, your voice rising in pitch. "This is serious. You're brand new on the team. You can't be sick right now."
She huffed and straightened her postured as she cocked her head at you. She contemplated her words for a few seconds before speaking.
"I understand what you're trying to do. But it's not necessary. I'm on a contract - I'm here for three years. People get sick - that's normal. I have lots of time to earn my place and make my mark here. If I did get sick - which I won't - it's not the end of the world if I miss a session or two."
You tutted in disapproval at her stubbornness. If you weren't so concerned for her, you'd be able to appreciate her sentiment more. Jessie - who was beyond dedicated to her sport, was actually willing to risk missing practice or even a game for you.
"I'm serious, Jess. Stay away. I'm going to sanitize things, and you keep to yourself and I'll do the same. I will be perfectly fine. I don't need you to take care of me."
She frowned at you, looking almost insulted.
"Well, I want to take care of you," came her rebuttal.
"Well I'm refusing," you countered, crossing your arms.
Jessie shook her head and mimicked your body language, folding her arms across her chest as well. When she spoke, her tone was unwavering.
"Listen, I know you're very independent. I know you're capable of taking care of yourself. But you're my girlfriend, my partner, love of my life, and I am taking care of you - end of story. So you are going to sit down on that couch," she pointed to it, but kept her eyes locked on you, "I am going to tuck you in, bring you food and drinks, we are going to watch movies all day and you are going to nap and get as much rest as you can. Understood?"
Any argument you had been formulating died on your lips. Jessie was rarely like this. She was such a good sport, always going with your ideas and whims and her family and friends made fun of her all the time - affectionately, of course - for it. You believe you heard the phrase, "You're so whipped" come up a few times.
You chewed the inside of your lip for a few seconds, refusing to break eye contact with her until you finally relented with a light scoff and roll of your eyes.
"Fine," you pouted. "But when you get in shit from your coach, don't tell me I didn't warn you."
Jessie simply grinned brightly at you and ushered you to the couch, setting you up with pillows right away. Soon she was ferrying items to and from before finally settling in with you. She pulled you against her so your head was resting on her chest as you watched TV together.
You'd be lying if you said you didn't love it.
-----
The next day, despite Jessie's efforts, you were feeling infinitely worse. She set you up on the couch in the morning and kneeled down in front of you, concern clear on her face.
"I don't want to leave you," she said, passively seeking your permission to stay with you.
"Go," you said, your voice now thick and hoarse. You turned your head into the couch and coughed. She immediately began rubbing your back.
"I can't leave you like this," she pouted.
"Go," you repeated, this time more adamant before continuing softly. "I want you to. Go blow them away. I'll be here when you get back."
She hummed deep in her throat, studying you for several moments before giving up with a light huff. She leaned in and kissed your forehead, bringing her hand up to cup your cheek and caress your cheekbone.
"I'll be home before you know it." She frowned at you before adding firmly, "Call me if anything comes up." You would normally roll your eyes at how overly attentive she was being - as much as you loved it - but you were so drained all you could do was close your eyes and nod.
"My baby," she said as she continued to caress your cheek. "I hate that I can't make you feel better."
You heard her get up and after a while you felt something being pushed into your hands. You slowly opened your eyes to see the little koala plushie she'd brought home for you from Australia.
"You hold him until I get home, okay?"
You whined against your will and clutched the plushie close to you, tucking your chin against it. You looked up and her lips were turned down in a sad smile as she watched you.
"I love you so much," she told you and leaned down to kiss you on the temple. "I'll be home as soon as I can."
"No," you whined further. "Do what you need to do. Don't rush home for me."
"I always rush home to you," she countered with an easy grin. You moaned in mild complaint.
"Why are you so good to me?" You pouted.
"Because I love you. And you deserve it," she told you readily as she swung her backpack over her shoulder.
"Mmm. I want cuddles when you get back," you continued to pout. She laughed.
"I'm going to bring you snacks and treats and then you'll get all the cuddles you want."
"Mmm," you whined again. "I'll miss you." She leaned down to lay one more kiss on your head.
"I'll miss you too. Now, get some rest. I'll be home soon."
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annabelle--cane · 2 days
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placing my hands out placatingly, asking everyone to please be cool and not reignite og!elias burnt out gifted kid discourse. okay? okay. I think this is setting up some more sam and gwen parallels. from mag 193, we know that elias bouchard (original flavor) was told from a young age that he was smart but lazy, he was squandering his advantages, and he was wrong to envy other children because they were meaningless and he was better. he seemed to internalize this to some extent, because by the time he was in his early twenties he had no friends and no family and no real life, just the certainty that he was destined to deserve better.
I think it is reasonable to assume that gwen received similar messaging during her childhood, as she seems to be treating the OIAR the same way elias treated artefact storage (as a stepping stone job to a bigger career waiting for her up the ladder), and she takes a lot of offence when she feels disrespected. from magp 03, we know she's reticent to tell her friends that she's still working this same job, especially because the friend's party she was going to was to celebrate making partner at a law firm.
from this episode, we know that sam was declared "gifted" as a child and his parents rigorously enrolled him in every program they could find, and it started going down hill when the magnus institute rejected him (did they reject him outright or was he there for a bit and then kicked out? what he said to celia doesn't quite fit his earlier statements, but moving on). he has a lot of pent up and fixated feelings about not being chosen by them, he didn't get into oxford, he just missed the highest grades, and he's reticent to tell his parents that he's working this job, especially because he used to be at a law firm.
we know the bouchards are a wealthy and influential family, and as sam speaks with a south asian accent I think it's safe to assume that his family immigrated. of course, there's a massive amount of variation in the socioeconomic statuses of south asian immigrant families in the UK, and I don't know enough about how british gifted kids programs work to know if sam having been in a bunch of them would imply anything about his parents' disposable income, but nonetheless I still think their different backgrounds potentially say a lot about how they handle these feelings of not meeting the high standards that were expected of / promised to them. gwen is fighting to be on the same level of social status and power as her peers, and sam probably felt like he was he had opportunities for upward mobility in this brand new place but kept failing them. it's causing both of them to be very active characters, they are the two people pushing the story forward the most by far, but the ways in which they are active diverge greatly.
gwen, until recently, had felt like she was unfairly stagnating, like she was "not most people" and was cut out for better, and being constantly barred from climbing the ladder made her both resentful of lena and extremely paranoid / insecure about her own worth. now that she's starting to crack it into the "real work," it's obviously taking a great toll on her, but she doesn't want to back out, she wants to prove herself and take what's rightfully hers and not show herself to be unfit for real power. her actions appear to be guided by an ethos that her life hasn't been wasted yet, she still has time to make good, she just needs to ignore that weakness masquerading as a conscience, please god don't let her fail.
sam feels like he's made mistake after mistake after mistake and led himself to his own desperate state where he only just managed to avoid destitution because his ex was kind enough to hook him up with an emergency job that is actively destroying his physical and emotional health, and he has pinned all this frustration on trying to figure out what the magnus institute was all about and why it didn't choose him. like gwen, great things were expected of him, but unlike her he doesn't seem to still be striving for them, that dried up when he had a breakdown at his last job. now he just wants to figure it out and make sense of it, as if solving the mystery will let him fix it and undo all that time and un-waste his promised potential. his actions seem to be guided by an ethos that, even though he's already screwed everything right up, solving the ghosts that haunt his life will some how lessen their burden and maybe, just maybe, give him closure on the Flaw That Doomed Him and allow him to move past it without dragging it still forward.
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am-i-interrupting · 3 days
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Hi! I love your Hazbin Hotel stuff and I wanted to make a request. If you haven’t done something like this, could you write the Hazbin characters, specifically Vox, Lucifer, Husk, and maybe Lute with an S/O (would prefer fem but G/N is fine) who has bad body dysmorphia? Like, they can never take compliments about their body, always thinking they’re overweight, not eating, etc. If this is too difficult/uncomfortable, totally understand! Would hate to trigger anything. Hope you have a great day/night!
If you like what I’m doing consider tipping me for priority requests & access to characters I don’t usually write for such as Charlie, Valentino, Carmilla, and more.
Husk
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Husk will never compliment you in public after figuring out that you hate to be complimented.
That does not mean that he’ll never compliment you.
He will because he truly thinks you’re beautiful.
He simply elects to do it in private so he will be able to explain to you in length why he disagrees.
He wants you to understand why he loves every single thing about you.
Maybe you don’t agree but he will let you know why he thinks it’s all so beautiful.
He doesn’t try to make you love it all like he does but he will at least try to make you accept that he loves it.
Lucifer
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Lucifer can’t understand why you don’t see your own beauty.
At least at first.
Then he realizes how close self loathing is close to depression and how they can often intertwine and how hypocritical it is to be so befuddled by your lack of understanding of his love of you & your body when he can’t understand how giving people free will is a good thing in any capacity and wow— he was too hard on you and himself.
Hello, something new to unpack with a therapist.
He definitely starts being more understanding after that revelation.
Not that he was ever cruel but he was a lot more insistent on how amazing you are not understanding that his insistence may not help but could make it worse.
It could make you think he was lying, covering up some hidden disdain with an over abundance of praise like he does with sinners who thank him for free will.
He’s not.
Make no mistake. He truly does love and adore you and every single part of you is amazing in his eyes but he understands.
He lets up on his pouring compliments and his combativeness over whether or not he means it.
He still compliments you but he no longer fights with you.
He just says what he thinks and then goes on, ignoring any expression of disbelief with a small, “A difference of opinion.”
Lute
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You cannot dislike her partner.
Not allowed. No one can dislike her amazing partner.
Will spare with you when you disregard her compliments.
She means what she says.
Why would she waste her breath with words that weren’t true when she doesn’t have to?
Everything she says is said because she means it.
You best learn that.
Vox
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No, no, no, no.
You don’t love your body? Unacceptable.
“Velvette! A photo shoot is in order right now!” “I’m busy!” “Well, clear you schedule!”
Velvette actually has a way of making you feel a bit more confident without seeming like she’s trying.
The photo shoot actually goes well even if you refuse to look at the pictures.
Of course, that doesn’t last long because Vox puts them up in his office, just too large and gigantic to ignore.
He has pictures of you everywhere because he loves looking at you.
Will kiss every part of you in front of a mirror while saying why he loves every part and forcing you to look at yourself otherwise he’ll stop. He records the entire thing to watch back later.
If you like what I’m doing consider commissioning me for canon/canon stories AND personalized canon/reader stories.
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dreamauri · 20 hours
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♪ — 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗞 - part six max verstappen x fem! driver! reader (fluff) “. . . this is what they call: puppy love.”
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( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )
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direct messages: LANDO + Y/N
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y.ln
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liked by pierregasly maxverstappen1 and 35.6k others y.ln sup Malborne, it's een a while. i brought a friend this time!
user GURL WHERE ARE YA GOING??!
landonorris oh look, its me😊
user SHE BROUGHT THE PUPPY!! IT'S MY LUCKY DAY ⤷ user trust my instincts, i was correct to get us those tickets ⤷ user SHARE THOSE INSTINCS NEXT TIME!! I COULD'VE MET THE MAN HISELF
user that dog is living abetter life than me and my ancestors
ausgp MARSHMALLOW!! can i pet 😍 ⤷ y.ln maybe if you bring a ball for a game of catch 🤔
user SHE RODE WITH MAX!! ⤷ user and lando* ⤷ user lando third wheeling probably
scuderiaferrari hey there 👀👋 ⤷ y.ln its my week off, dont you dare ⤷ user y/nnnnnn 😭😭
carlossainz55 a get together without me?😔 ⤷ y.ln i had no choice, it was Malborne or certain death
user something about max and y/n traveling with marshmallow . . . ⤷ user i wanna see footage of max and marshmallow interacting, I NEED TO SEE ⤷ user the interaction would most likely contain pure chaos
y.ln posted on their story
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direct messages: CARLOS + Y/N // CHARLES + Y/N
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(translation at the very end)
twitter
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carlos + y/n: I dont feel like driving with ferrari this weekend - i hate you - where are you? I have coffee The medbay on the circuit - you want trimasu? Yes and painkillers
charles + y/n: - hey charles y/n, hi -hi No, hi* -anyways :( - are you in the hospitality. I was told you were 30 min ago Yes, Do you need anything - can you check with one of the mechanics if they have my racing gear? We always have the reserve driver’s gear Why? Are you driving this weekend - hopefully not Why? You’re an amazing pilot You inspire a lot of people - i know i know, but its the aus gp - i'd rather just watch, i came here to have fun anyways - i dont want to deal with strategies and battling and just racing overall - no offense or anything I understand, you already do a lot in hypercar Which you’re doing great in, by the way If you need anything, come see me. I’d love to help - thank you charles :) Of course, I owe you. You did so much for me in f2 and f3 its only fair! I’ll get your kit and tell your team. Do you want some coffee? Two milk? - thank you charles X)
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bella-goths-wife · 2 days
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I feel like we should have an actor au for the pet series where like the vees actors comfort the actor (who is the reader) after really distressing scenes I just like imagine vals actor being so sweet after the scene where val locked pet in a room with him to make her panic idk just a thought I would love to see because even though I luv the story line it always kills me when there is no comfort after things that happen even though sometimes they do comfort her it just makes me feel so icky and I feel like having an actor au will help people like me so that we can still enjoy it, with the reminder in the back of our heads that it is not real because even though its not real it still kinda feels real if you know what i mean because I get really immersed in x reader stories. I know this is a lot but just a suggestion no pressure I will still read and love it either way
I actually think this is a fun way to comfort the readers without straying from canon, I think I’ll probably do one for each of the characters each
Also they all have the same names as their characters :)
Vs pet actor au (Valentino version)
Warnings: val is worried, pet acts panicked, crying, non canon events,
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“Come here princesa” val coos in his characters voice to your character as you act out a fake shiver of fear
You act out the scene of abuse with fake tears streaming down your face. The scene was one that you had been nervous about for weeks, having known that it was a disturbing scene to watch and film.
In the scene, vals character had locked your character in a room with him to imply that he would possibly assault her like he had done to angels character to cause her to panic and breakdown.
You and val had gone over lines together in your trailer and lamented about how it would be a rough filming day for the two of you, considering you had the punishment scene to film just after.
But you put on a brave face as you acted out your scene with minimal distraction. You followed the script and your weeping character sat beside Val on the soft couch as the camera did a close up on your face to ensure they captured the panic in your eyes and the quiver in your bitten lips.
as it came time for val’s character Valentino to touch your thigh in a menacing implication, he did so and you felt a shiver uncomfortably run through you.
You suddenly became hyper aware of the people behind the cameras who had their eyes peeled on you, and how the pink lighting shined so brightly on you.
As your cue came to jump into val’s arms, you froze completely with your face lowered to your thigh and tears running down your cheeks.
“Cut” the director called out and it broke you out your frozen daydream
“Everything okay kid?” Val whispers with a concerned look as he removes his hand from your thigh
“I don’t think I can do it” you whisper back through tears as you face your back to the cameras
“Everything okay up there guys?” The director called out with a concerned expression
Val uses his wings to hide your face and tucked you against his chest before he answered, making sure to spare you any embarrassment.
“We’re gonna need a 15 minute break” val called back politely “private please”
The director nodded with an understanding look before calling most of the set to go on a break away from the filming Scene.
Val turned to you and put a hand on your shoulder.
“Are you okay kid?” Val asks with a worried look as he pulls you away from his chest to observe your expression
“Yeah” you say with a shaky inhale as you wipe your tearful eyes with your palm “it all got a bit much for me”
“I get it kid, it’s a hard scene to film for everyone” val says with a nod and a soothing tone “that’s why I tried to put it off for as long as possible”
“I’m just not used to doing scenes like this guess” you say with a sigh “I had the same problem with Vox during our panic scene, I think it just gets too much for me”
“Your playing a very difficult role honey, it’s understandable that you’ll get a bit freaked out during your scenes” val says gently
“I can’t believe I made them stop shooting, I bet they’re all so mad at me now” you say with an embarrassed groan “I should have just continued”
“Hey, hey, no one is mad at you” val says with a reassuring tone “your having to put yourself in very disturbing scenarios, you have every right to stop filming when you feel uncomfortable and anyone who tells you otherwise hasn’t got a clue about how much work these scenes take”
You nod with a frown, still embarrassed about your freak out, Val notices and wraps his arm around your shoulder
“How about we go get some water and then go talk to the intimacy coordinator about how we can make it feel less overwhelming” val suggests with a smile “or we can try and ask if we could use your body double for the scenes where my hand is physically touching you”
“Yeah” you say with a small nod and a smile “let’s go talk to the intimacy coordinator please”
“Of course sweetheart” val says with a gentle smile as he wraps his hand and wing around your shoulders and begins to guide you to the door.
You managed to work out a way to make the scene to work after a few different attempts and you captured your best shots before retreating to your trailer with Val in tow as you both celebrated a successful scene by eating food while you had your wigs, makeup and costumes removed.
After that day, Val made it a point to always be present during your harder scenes and was always checking in on you during the breaks between takes. He also made sure to update the intimacy coordination on your preferences so they could be added to your filming contract.
You were the youngest of the actors he was working with, and he wanted to make sure you were completely protected while on set.
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Should I do more?
Sorry it’s so short 😭
Tag list:
@the-faceless-bride @idontreallyexistyet @ivebeenthearchersstuff @hazbinhotelxreader @fandomaddict505 @corvid007 @buttercupfangirl @lilyalone @rerarlo @perkypeony @sparkleyfishies @repostingmyfavs
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essektheylyss · 2 days
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This was entirely tangential to this post from @utilitycaster which is why this is its own post, but the tags made me think about what feels most compelling about Liliana to me, and it's really because there's such an interesting approach to redemption in terms of the sunk cost fallacy to be had there.
There have been plenty of comparisons between Liliana and Essek, but I don't think they're really situations that can be compared. Essek had done one horrible thing (that was of relevence to the story; it is implied that he's taken other actions that he feels were wrong, but we don't know what those entail nor do the Nein care enough to ask, so per narrative convention, they do not matter for analysis) and was only still involved in it to the extent that he couldn't take it back, so to survive he had to continue covering his tracks. But he was also incentivized to otherwise act in alignment with the group that was not those on behalf of whom he had made terrible choices, because he was still living in the Dynasty, and as such wasn't actively perpetuating those actions beyond the cover up.
Liliana on the other hand is acting with the Vanguard and has been furthering if not personally committing atrocities on their behalf for a number of years, continuing to the present. Like Essek, she believes her involvement in the cause to be a difficult choice that was made for noble reasons, and now can't see a way out. But she is also relieved to be told to stay, though at the point that they discuss her leaving, she is alone and outside the immediate range of contact or oversight from the Vanguard. It seems reasonable that she could disappear with a decent headstart, and perhaps become untraceable quickly enough to be safe from anyone following. With this context, returning to the Vanguard with the intention of feeding information to the opposition feels like the riskier choice, but crucially it is the devil she knows.
I actually liken this more to Cassandra de Rolo than Essek. Cassandra was manipulated against her brother by the Briarwoods, but this was also spurred by having watched Percy seemingly leave her for dead. There are legitimate reasons why the Briarwoods, as the people who rescued her and then kept her alive for many years, are the easier option in which to place her trust. She knows what she's getting from that vantage point and how to handle it. She doesn't inherently have faith that someone she only knew as a young and helpless child, who ran from the hardships she's faced, would have the strength or willingness to do what she has found necessary for survival.
I think that Liliana's actions are more willful, not least because she was not a child nor in mortal peril when she joined the Vanguard, but she sees herself as having made difficult choices when only faced with difficult options, and I do think they have been difficult. She didn't want to leave her family; she doesn't want to hurt the young Ruidusborn under her care; she is probably genuinely sorry that innocent people were considered a necessary sacrifice for what she sees as the greater good. It is psychologically taxing to feel as though one is always picking between bad options, which is a significant contributing factor for why people buy into a sunk cost for so long. And over time, those hard decisions become easier, because you know what to expect from the outcome. Though Liliana is well aware that she might be killed for a misstep among the Vanguard, she already knows how to act to maintain their favor, but how she might be received on Exandria by those fighting the Vanguard, even with the Hells vouching for her, is anyone's guess.
This is a very real reason why people remain in cults and struggle to push back against this kind of conditioning: because the decision to leave feels more immediately perilous than the decision to stay. (On a certain level making these kinds of choices and actions habitual is a fundamental basis behind a lot of military conditioning.) And if you are acting in the interests of your own survival, but that survival comes at the cost of that of countless others who have not, in fact, made any threat or harm against you to begin with, then is the nature of your survival morally defensible?
This analysis isn't a question of whether Liliana will commit to her role as double agent and turn fully against the Vanguard, or even which one of these is a "better" story; this is about what the story might say if she doesn't. Yes, she might commit to a different path than the one she's on and make an effort to redeem herself, but it is also a perfectly coherent and interesting story if she doesn't.
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fadingdaggerr · 2 days
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Hii!! I hope you've had a great day!!
So, I had this idea and I can't stop thinking about it, it's like rotating in my brain like a Rotisserie Chicken. IDK if you're still taking requests but I just had to send this.
Anyway, Melissa and reader are in someone else's house (R parents or idk some kind of sleepover with the teachers) and for some reason they can't sleep together in the same bed/room, like they're used to, which is concerning R because Melissa doesn't really sleep well alone.
But Mel tries to ease R saying she'll be just fine for one night, and very reluctantly R agrees.
Well, it turns out she can't. R and obviously a few others in the house wake up to Melissa's screaming in the middle of the night and R runs to her, shes is sobbing, shaking and clutching R for dearlife, just absolutely terrified and not even letting R move. R calm her down and take care of her, like with a lot of fluff and comfort.
I'm just obsessed with R taking care of Mel and being really sweet.
Yeah that's it. I love your stories, they are really really good. And I could only think of you when this thing came out of my brain.
+ I absolutely loved what you did in "Know I'm Alive", I was kicking my feet and internally screaming. (I sent that anon 👉👈) So thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, like a lot a lot, like, if I could I would eat that it.
You're really talented!! <3
by the sun, by the moon
pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader
summary: request above! | 4.8k
includes: no pronoun use for r, fluff, hurt/comfort, family play fights/sibling banter, r’s family adores mel, probably ooc!mel oops
warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic (short), attempted violence (short), mentions/insinuations of sex, one outdated traditional value, sleep difficulties/nightmares, anxiety/panic attack
note: please feel free to skip the section that discusses the unhealthy relationship dynamic/violence. it begins after the first section divide with the line “for her entire childhood…” those topics are only explicitly stated there and only referenced one other time. please do not feel as tho you need to read triggering material to understand the story, i tried to make it understandable without having to read potentially distressing content :)
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Melissa’s head tips back when she hears you coming back downstairs, having been waiting for you since your mom called during The Real Housewives time. The way you’re watching your feet with furrowed brows makes her fully turn until she’s kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back to get closer to you.
“Something wrong?” Melissa asks, reaching to grab your hand to pull you closer.
You shake your head, “no, no.” Warm hands rise to cradle the redhead’s face, “how would you feel about spending the night at my parents place Saturday? They’re hosting Jonah’s birthday, wanted our help to set up the night before.”
Her eyes widen, “just Saturday night?”
“Just Saturday,” you reaffirm, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She cautiously nods, barely moving. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, I’m not going to make you.”
“I know, I know,” she says through her breath, “we’ll stay the night.” The kiss you press to her forehead feels heavier than just a silent thank you.
—☽—
For her entire childhood and through her marriage, Melissa slept like a rock. She slept through Kristen Marie’s and Joe’s snoring, her college girlfriend’s sleep talking, her parents having a screaming match so loud the cops got called. Before starting teaching, she even had to train herself to wake up at the sound of her alarm, knowing that being late to the school was ten times worse than being late to JC Penney.
Two years after she finally left Joe, Melissa met Eric.
Tall, charming, nice-smelling Eric with his salt-and-pepper beard always tidy, a covered up Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d bought her drink after his friend accidentally knocked hers off the counter of the bar, and two hookups later, she was agreeing to a real date. Three months later, she was his girlfriend and allowed him into her apartment. He got to know where the spare key was hidden after a year.
Eric was everything Joe was not. During arguments, Joe would shut down and leave, only returning when he smells like cheap liquor and some other woman’s perfume. Eric always stayed, told her his point of view, listened to hers, calmly told her when she was overreacting. He was smooth, never raised a hand towards her or threw things at the walls. Melissa always knew when she was in the wrong, but he never made her feel bad about it.
Eric was particular. He liked his shirts folded a certain way, beer only from a glass, and silence when he worked. If she was excited about anything, he only ever allowed her to speak about it until he’d lost interest, almost always by the time she paused to take a breath. When he properly introduced her to his friends, his hand on her knee would tighten when she spoke. Quickly, she learned that the tighter the grip, the less she should speak. Four hours at some sports bar and Melissa had only been able to say a total of six sentences. Eric liked Melissa quiet. Melissa became quiet.
He started to prod about meeting her family, and she shut him down. Again and again. The fourth time, he banged his fist against the table, the end of his fork creating a small dent. Green eyes fixated on the dent as he began to calmly explain that he had introduced her to his family, it was her turn. Mumbling those were your buddies got her stuck on her own couch that night, clutching the blanket Nana made her before she started college.
Two months later, she began to slowly bring back Eric’s clothing to his apartment on the off-chance they went there for a night. Grading her student’s assignments began to take longer and she triple-checked the scores to waste more time, suddenly too tired to have sex or even talk before going to sleep. Otherwise, she listened to his rules, spoke when spoken to, cooked when asked.
The morning he narrowly avoided calling her a moron to her face when she made the eggs over-medium instead over-easy, she officially made her choice. That night, at the Italian restaurant he brought her to, she called it off.
“Why?” Eric asked, eyes stone, unwavering from hers.
She took a deep breath, “you treat me like a pet. Speak when spoken to, move when told, I’m sick of it.” Her grip on the table cloth tightened, “tomorrow, I will put your stuff outside. You’ll pick it up when I tell you to, and then you will leave.”
He sits back in his chair, tongue poking at his bottom lip, “and if I don’t want to break up?”
“Too bad,” she shrugs. Standing from the table, Melissa leaves him with the check and the sad excuse of Italian cuisine on the table.
At work the next day, it takes all morning, lunch, and prep to fully debrief Barbara on everything that had been going on. It made sense to the kindergarten teacher why she had yet to meet this Eric fella, but after hearing this, she knew Melissa wasn’t proud of getting herself in this situation. A promise of a wine weekend and greasy food makes Melissa truly smile. Barbara hadn’t realized how fake every little grin had been until now, she missed her best friend.
That afternoon, Melissa came home to the loose brick that hid her spare key ajar. The blood in her veins runs cold. Opening the unlocked door, glass scratches across the wooden floor, crunching under her heels. Every picture frame, the television, the radio, the coffee table, the stovetop, the tea set from her grandfather, all smashed to pieces. Holes were in nearly every wall, the stair railing broken. The entire first floor was destroyed, only upstairs was left pristine, as if nothing had happened at all. Bat in hand, she checks every closet, under her bed, in the bathtub, everywhere. He was gone.
Leaning against the wall, she slides down and sobs. Melissa is forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make. Opening her phone, she calls Joe.
Joe, despite everything he had done, was at Melissa’s house within the hour. In one hand he held a bag from the hardware store, containing new locks and keys, the other hand had his very own bat, nails pounded through the wood. Like he said when they signed the papers, just because he wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean he didn’t care.
Three weeks later, after things had settled and locks were changed, Melissa felt more secure. Still every night, she woke at every sound, wind and the smoke detector quickly became her mortal enemies. Bundled in her soft pajamas and thick comforter one night, she finally fell into a hard, deep sleep forced from pure exhaustion.
Paperclips, a screwdriver, and a small sheet of flexible metal are all someone needs to pick a lock and shift the deadbolt. Eric surely knew that, always the smart man, yet never the brightest. Slowly, he moved up the stairs, bourbon fueling his motions as well as his heavy steps.
A particularly loud thunk wakes Melissa, hand flying under her pillow to the bat Joe had made her promise to keep there. Another thump made her jump out of bed and to the side of her dresser with an iron grip around Edith Houghton. When her door opened, she stayed pressed into the corner, hoping she stayed hidden just long enough for him to leave so she could grab her phone.
Liquor breeds stupidity, worsens it when it is already present, and Eric had left to check the bathroom. Quickly, Melissa called the police, shakily texting Joe as she whispered to the operator. At that point, she didn’t care who got there first. She just wanted to be free of him.
She moved to a new apartment before the month even ended. Barbara insisted on cameras, which Gerald installed. Joe insisted on a nailed up bat, which he made himself. Not a night has gone by since then where she didn’t have it within arms reach of the bed.
It took six years for her to sleep again.
—☽—
The light tracing of nonsensical patterns on her abdomen is what wakes Melissa, eyes cracking open to the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had agreed to the blackout curtains, groaning into her pillow. With the knowledge she’s now awake, several soft kisses press against her shoulder, traveling to her neck. With a sleepy grin on her face, Melissa turns to face you.
“Morning,'' you mumble against her lips, hand traveling up to her hair to separate the knots that you created. “Sleep good?”
The only response you get is a little huff that almost sounds like yeah, her face burying in your neck to hide from the light. You lay there with her, finishing your detangling mission as Melissa’s nails trace up and down your arm. A final, sound kiss lands on the crown of her head before you shuffle out from underneath her, reaching for your previous discarded university shirt and sweatpants. The redhead watches through droopy eyes, scanning over you before your pajamas cover everything she adores.
“Gotta get up, beautiful,” you say through a yawn as you walk out the room, “we need to be leaving for one.” A tiny groan escapes her lips as she rises from the bed, though a small smile crosses her lips when she sees your sweatshirt thrown over the chair in the corner, just waiting for her.
Not even halfway down the stairs, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and a quiet exclamation of fuck. “You’re not even awake and you want me up,” Melissa says as she walks to the coffee maker. She’s met with a small slap on her ass in return, not even caring to be embarrassed of the girlish giggle she lets out.
Whose fault it is that you’re late leaving, who could tell? Between the forgoing packing and wrapping your cousin’s present last night for a taste of Melissa and her lack of pants this morning, it’s hard to say. Nothing that going a gentle twenty over on the highway can’t mend.
Driving up the dirt road, the dense trees thinned and your parent’s yellow house came into view. Your father’s questionably functional truck sits in the front of the garage, your mom and brother’s cars parked close together on the lawn. Seeing the way your hands tighten on the steering wheel, Melissa slides her hand from your elbow to the free hand on your thigh, playing with your rings to calm you. Being at your parents house was always overwhelming, fun, but overwhelming.
Narrowly avoiding scraping the side, you pull in next to your brother’s car. Looking at each other, you and Melissa give each other a nod of we got this. She’d been over here before, she’d been to three family reunions and almost every birthday party, but never had you two stayed the night, always being some of first to leave to sleep in your own bed.
With a little grunt, you hop out of the car and jog to Melissa’s side to open her door. She gives you a half glare when you tap her hand away from helping carry the bags in, you never let her lift a finger, if you can help it.
“Well, look who decided to show up!”
Both you and Melissa jump at your mother’s yell from the porch, bangles clanking together as she widely waves to the both of you. Gravel crunches under her feet as she rushes over to the two of you, immediately pulling Melissa into a hug. Before you were banned from saying it, you used to joke that your parents preferred your girlfriend to their own child. The giant smile on Melissa’s face when she interacts with your family makes it worth it.
Tumbling upstairs, you bring your bags into your childhood bedroom with Melissa close behind. Even with every time she had been here, she loved being in your room. It was a time capsule of your life before college, all the posters of bands and movies still hanging on the walls, trinkets covering every space. She particularly loved the little collection of rocks on your bookshelf, clearly in order from favorite to least favorite.
The bed bobs as you both drop onto the mattress, groaning at the comfort after three hours in the car. You turn your face towards her, leaning to press a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.”
Melissa leans in closer, “I love you, too.” She watches your eyes flick to her lips, beating you to the chase and pressing her lips to yours softly. It takes every ounce of effort to not moan at your tongue tracing her lip, her hand coming up to grip your shirt and keep you close. Stomping up the stairs makes you both jump apart, feeling like teenagers getting caught, not that the room was helping.
The door opens to show your dad, boots trekking in dirt that will inevitably get him in trouble with your mom. The hand not on the doorknob is over his eyes, “you two better be decent. Ma has lunch ready downstairs and clothing is probably mandatory.”
“Knock it off,” you mumble as you shuffle towards him so he can give your head a gentle noogie. Neither of you were big on hugs, only really being physically affectionate with your partners, but the love is always clear in every fistbump and hand on your shoulder.
You and Melissa trail behind your father as he goes to the kitchen, both fighting laughs after nearly getting caught by your dad. However, the second your mom peers over at the two of you, you both act like you had been silent the whole time, eyes flicking around in feigned innocence.
Lunch is a mismatch of all the foods your mom made for the birthday party the next day, making you all be her taste testers, even if she only really wants Melissa’s opinion as the other cook in the family. Pasta salad, potato salad, mac and cheese, shortcake, even some chicken with her new lemon pepper recipe. You and your brother fight over who gets first dibs on the pasta salad, ending with his wife taking the serving spoon from your hands and grabbing some for herself.
“Act your age,” Kennedy says to her husband, making you laugh, before she gives you a sharp glance, “that goes for you, too.” Melissa turns away to unsuccessfully hide her own laugh from you.
Lunch ends with your mom and your brother arguing over another serving of macaroni, “we need food for tomorrow! Fuck’s sake, Marcus.”
—☽—
Your father divides everyone into groups to set up the backyard. Your mother takes Melissa and Kennedy to help set up the tables and lights, forcing you and Marcus to help your father with the tent, bonfire pit, and yardgames.
Getting all the yardgames for the little cousins was the easy part, even if it took a while because the three of you had to play a game of cornhole before you could do anything else. None of you got a single one in after two turns, making you all set into defeat, the game was agreed between the three of you to be stupid now. With your father taking a break now, getting the tent together was a doomed venture with you and Marcus.
“If you don’t let me hold it up, it’s gonna keep falling.”
“Fuck off! No, it won’t,” Marcus says with confidence, trying to stand the tent all at once before securing it. Four had already fallen, and a job that should only take twenty minutes was taking nearly an hour.
“How is it gonna stay up if nothing’s holding it, huh? Thought you knew everything?” He flips you off and doesn’t answer, continuing putting the spike in the ground, though without the other end being held up, the weight pulls it down again. Giving up, you walk away and attempt to find your dad for something else to do. You stop in your tracks, just step from the patio.
Watching Melissa with your family always makes butterflies erupt in your chest. She used to be so nervous around them, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, but now she’s almost as carefree with them as she is with her own. The sunlight makes her hair shine, and it’s damn near impossible to look away. It seems you’re of similar mind, her head turning towards you, fighting a grin when she sees the dopey grin on your face.
You almost start to walk towards her, but a strong hand pulls you back. Your dad pushes the hatchet into your hands, “you’re on firewood duty.”
“Bu-”
“Nope, you’re not slinking off to your girl. Go chop the wood, Casanova,” he says as he walks back to help Marcus with the tent.
It’s hours before you even get a chance to see Melissa again, as if your parents were keeping you apart. Which they were, knowing that you’d ignore everything you had to do if it meant you got to just look at Melissa. By the time you got back inside, the button up you’d been wearing was abandoned on a lawn chair and you were out of breath. How much firewood does one bonfire even need?
Walking in the backdoor into the kitchen, Melissa is leaning against the counter, her eye on the mixer filled with what will be cheesecake going to your tanktop clad form as she chats with Kennedy. Creeping up beside her, you wrap an arm around her waist and press a lingering kiss to her cheek, mumbling a greeting into her skin before trudging upstairs to shower the sweat and dirt off.
—☽—
By the end of the night, everyone is half-awake and struggling to keep their eyes open as a TV movie drones on. Neither you or Melissa are paying attention, too wrapped up in one another in the arm chair. Legs dangling over the arm, Melissa is seated on your lap, head tucked into your shoulder as you mindlessly play with her hair. The hand on the back of your neck stops its soft ministrations, her breathing slowing as she fights falling asleep.
You speak quietly for only her to hear, “you ready for bed?” She just nods against you, and you tap her legs to prompt her to move. Her hands hold onto your arm to steady herself, wavering where she stands.
“Alright, we’re calling it. Night guys, we’ll see you in the morning,” you announce into the room as Melissa starts going towards the stairs, not trusting her ability to speak when she’s this tired. You get a quiet chorus of night before you walk to the stairs, but your mother’s voice stops your movements.
“Jellybean, could you do me a favor and take the trash out before you head upstairs?” she asks without taking her eyes off the TV.
You internally groan before nodding, turning to Melissa, “go up, baby. I’ll be right there.”
This catches your mother’s attention, immediately moving to face you, “you mean to say ‘goodnight,’ right?”
“What?”
Her eyebrows rise, “you’re saying goodnight, then going to your room. Right?” Melissa’s blood immediately runs cold, color draining from her face. If she was tired two minutes ago, she was wide awake now.
“No...” you say slowly, confused, “why would Mel not also be in there?” You peak over your shoulder to Melissa, giving her a look before your attention is back on your mother.
“So, you’re staying in the guest room? Or is Melissa?”
Your face screws up, “Neither of us? My room’s got a full, that’s fine for us.”
“No.”
“Hell you mean ‘no,’ Ma? Marcus and Kennedy are sharing a full, it’s not a huge deal,” you hear Melissa step down from the stairs, her shaky hand holding your elbow.
“Marcus and Kennedy are married, unlike you two. I know you live together, but my roof, my rules. You know that,” she says matter-of-factly. The other three people in the room pointedly avoid looking at you, not wanting to get on your mom’s bad side.
You argue back, “that’s fucking ridiculous, Ma. We are grown adults, in a relationship.” The arched brow on your mother’s face tells you that you shouldn’t be arguing, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know about the panic that is starting to eat away at Melissa’s veins at the sudden thought of sleeping without you, something she hasn’t done once in over three years now.
“No rings, two beds. Don’t think I won’t be checking.”
Not wanting to make more of a scene, Melissa tugs on your arm to gain your attention. Turning to her, you can see the silent plea in her eyes for you to give it up. Shoulders sagging, you let out a grumbled fine. Breaking away from her, you go to the kitchen and roughly pull the trash from the bin. It takes a great deal of effort to not slam the door as you stomp to the garage. When you come back in, you don’t bother saying anything to anyone, just wrapping an arm around Melissa to guide her upstairs.
When you get into your room, you shut the door and lean against it with a huff. The two of you silently change into your pajamas, moving slowly from exhaustion and an attempt to prolong your time together. Melissa turns away to fold her clothes on the bed, and you move to wrap your arms around her waist, propping your chin on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’ll stay in here tonight. Not like she can’t ground me anymore.”
Melissa turns in your arms, loosely wrapping her own around your shoulders, “it’s alright, I’ll be fine. I don’t want her mad at you for my sake.”
“Baby-”
“Don’t do that,” she says, though the sigh in her voice gives away her uncertainty, “I’ll be okay, amore.”
Your eyes scan over her face before you nod. Her arms pull you closer, noses brushing before she presses a sound kiss to your lips. Melissa’s arms shift and her hands cup your face, moving your head to press kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and chin, until the sour look on your face disappears.
Tugging her into you, you bury your head into her neck, pressing a long kiss there. From her neck you mumble, “I’ll be in the room right next door.”
“I’ll survive in the guest room, this is your bedroom,” she says, though she doesn’t fully mean it.
“What’s mine is yours. Plus, this one’s more comfortable, you’ll thank me later,” you hug her tighter, “so... I will be next door.”
“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she says. It’s more for her than you this time. Three years. Three years of falling asleep with you still awake beside her and waking up with you already looking at her.
You walk her back towards the bed, getting in with her, though not under the covers. With everyone, especially your mother, you don’t think it’ll hurt to stay until Melissa falls asleep. Her back presses to your front, hand holding yours to her chest, fast beating heart beneath. In a hushed voice, you speak about little things that don’t matter in hopes that it will calm her enough. Slowly her breath evens out, face burying into the pillow as it always does when you hold her like this.
Carefully, you detangle yourself from her and press a kiss to her hair, “I love you.” Stepping out of the room slowly, you leave the door cracked just a little and eye Melissa before turning. At the top of the stairs is your mother, brows raised.
“You better be going to your own bed,” she says quietly, though her tone is hard.
Rolling your eyes, you respond, “I am. Just had to make sure Melissa was asleep first.” You try to go into the room next door, but your mom’s face is silently asking for context, “she doesn’t sleep well. Different place, different sleeping arrangement, it’s difficult.”
You don’t particularly appreciate the dismissive way your mom just nods before walking towards the master bedroom, clearly thinking it was just an excuse, but it’s too late to fight about it. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and crawl into bed with Melissa before she wakes. You watch the crack in the door and listen for Melissa until sleep comes over you.
—☽—
Something wakes you just past three in the morning, an ear splitting scream coming from next door. At first, you think it’s just your own anxiety, closing your eyes slowly. A second scream, this time of your name, and you’re springing out of bed, throwing the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall and slam shut. Four steps bring you to your childhood bedroom, rapidly swinging the door open to run in, not noticing the others joining you in the hall.
When you get into the room, moonlight illuminates Melissa where she’s sitting up with a hand gripping her shirt as she breathes in quick, panicked pants, eyes flying around the room until they land on you. Before she can even reach for you, you’re practically pouncing on the bed to get in front of her. Your hands go to her shoulders, her own gripping your forearms, her watery eyes darting around your face. Taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, you motion for Melissa to mimic you, trying to slow her rapid breath and heart.
Short gasps become slow, shaky breaths as panic begins to fade and tears form. A whimper of your name makes you pull her into you, her arms gripping your shirt and she cries into your neck. Between broken sobs, only the words window, knife, and everywhere and mention of a him come through, but you understood. This wasn’t the first time Eric’s actions haunted her at night, though it had been nearly two years since she’d woken up in a sweat.
Peeking over your shoulder, you see your parents and brother in the doorway. The look you give your mother is filled with anger and a raised brow that says I told you to listen. The clear fury makes your father pull her back towards their own room, pushing your brother to his. Some level of courtesy hits your mom, closing the door fully before she gets tugged away.
Attention back on Melissa, you alternate between playing with the ends of her hair and lightly dragging your nails over her back under her shirt. You tuck her hair behind her ear, tacky from tears, “you’re safe, Mel. Nothing and no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I wouldn’t let them.”
Rocking side to side gently, you feel her breathing return to normal, body no longer shaking from tears. Trying not to jostle her, you turn your body to lay down with her, keeping her tucked into your neck with your arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, you slide an arm down to grab her hand, lacing your fingers together.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, just below your ear.
You squeeze her hand, “you never have to apologize for this. If anything, I’m the one that should be sorry. I should have stayed.”
She sniffled, “I’m a grown woman, I should be able to sleep alone.”
“And I should be able to stand up to my mother about sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend, yet here we are,” you say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.
Thankfully, she chuckles, the vibration on your skin making you smile, “so it’s all your fault.”
“I’ll gladly take the blame,” you mumble as you settle into the bed more, relaxing as you feel the redhead relax against you.
In a sudden move, Melissa props herself up over you, hair dangling in your face. Leaning down, she kisses your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, long and loving. It’s a quiet thanks that she will never owe you.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you more,” you whisper back.
It takes half an hour for sleep to creep back in, Melissa’s breathing growing slow where she rests on your chest, your heart beating under her ear. When she eventually falls back asleep against your chest, you stay awake and trace lines on her back. You’ll gladly stand guard if it means she sleeps peacefully, stay awake if it means she’s safe.
note: solaris write a fic under 3k like u planned challenge good lord man. also thank you thank you for the compliment, it’s an honor to be the first person u thought of to write this. i hope i did ur vision justice <3
as always, feedback appreciated <3
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