#and even when i got into like my dream law school they were like

[lucidfairies]

money [a.a]

pairing: ceo!abby x secretary!reader

synopsis: when you finally land the job of your dreams, you had no idea what your boss would be like. and damn, no idea you conjured could've done her justice.

warnings: top!abby, bottom!reader, age gap (reader is in her 20s, abby is in her early 40s), cunnilingus (r/a receiving), strap (r!receiving), praise + degradation, mommy kink, dirty talk, manhandling, pet names (sweetheart, sweet girl, angel, baby, whore, slut)

word count: 3.3k

it wasn't everyday that you landed a job with one of the most well known law firms in washington. for now you were just a secretary, someone to sit outside of an office and take calls, but your hope was to work your way up to one of their lawyers.

you had little prior experience with being a secretary, but it was just enough to get you this gig. the building was large, and the office you were to assist was on one of the highest floors, naturally where the head of the firm was.

you knew her, abby anderson. incredibly talented lawyer who even won over a supreme court case. though you hadn't met her in person, you were exhilarated to meet her. she was who you dreamed to be, especially by her age.

it wasn't until your third day, when abby was finally in the office, when you got a glimpse of what working here would actually look like. abby showed up in a well pressed black suit, armani logo drilling into your eyes like a laser, making you feel all that underdressed.

"do I know you?" she asked when you knocked gently on her office door and went in. she truly didn't mean to be rude - her son had been sick for three days and she was feeling it now - but you didn't know that. you automatically assumed she was an asshole, and that threw you off.

you cleared your throat, meeting her eyes and immediately shifting them again. she was intimidating, almost scary. "I'm y/n. I'm your new assistant." she looked you up and down, gaze still burning your skin, and the corner of her mouth turned up to a smirk.

"great. I take my coffee black, nothing in it. there will be a card on your desk that you can charge it to every morning. get yourself something. I expect you to leave before I do, as I stay late. by any chance, do you babysit?" your eyes found hers as you finally looked up.

"I mean, I can. I used to when-" she cut you off, uninterested in anything except the yes. you noted that for later.

"I might need you to pick up my son from school every couple weeks. not often, and certainly not until I've run a background check on you." she wasn't hardly looking at you now, eyes flipping between her papers and computer. "did I miss anything?"

"no ma'am," you said, standing up and instinctively wiping off your skirt, though there was nothing there. suddenly you were back at your desk, waiting for calls and bookings to come in while trying to make sense of that interaction.

the next day you arrived late, but in your defense, the line at the coffee place was long and traffic was even longer, and now you weren't even sure that the coffee was hot. abby was there when you gently knocked on her door, allowing your entry with a low 'come in.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, there was really bad traffic and the line-"

"it's okay, sweet girl." your stomach flipped. yesterday, when your eyes knew nothing but the floor, you hadn't exactly taken in her appearance, but today. today.

today she was in a black turtleneck, sleeves right around the muscle in her arms that just made her look so, so good. her black slacks were tight at her hips with a belt, and they were hugging her legs so tight that you were sure the seam would rip.

her hair was pulled into a nice bun and she wore no makeup, not that she ever needed to. she had freckles, beautiful eyes. rings. she had rings, that she could put inside of you any day.

"I'll be on time tomorrow, miss." your gaze dropped again as you turned to leave her office. this was surely going to be nothing but torture for the following months.

two weeks later was the first time she asked you to stay late. you originally had plans, but the way your name dripped off of her tongue like honey made you immediately cancel them. she had asked you politely to pick up her son, and you even acquired her number from the ordeal.

dealing with kids was not your specialty, but abby's son was a delight. he talked all about his mom, some about his dad and it made you wonder if abby was single or not. she never wore a ring to your knowledge, not even on a necklace, and from your speculation she almost looked like a lesbian. maybe you were just dreaming about the end.

if you had taken your apartment and multiplied it by ten, it still wouldn't be half the size of abby's house. she truly did have money, if the armani suits and porsche didn't say that already.

an hour into your babysitting, which almost just felt like hanging out with a kid in a mansion, abby got home. she walked in, greeting you with the first real smile you had ever seen on her face. your brain malfunctioned when you gently placed her hand on your arm and pressed an innocent kiss onto your cheek.

you were blushing profusely, pupils blown, almost dizzy, all she did was kiss your cheek, a very normal way of greeting someone and you were fucked. abby didn't fail to see you run your fingers over the spot and look at them before quickly turning back towards the two of them.

abby lived for it. lived for the you drooled over everything she did, lived for the way that she was sure her fingers would look so, so good in your mouth... and she tried not to think about it. how could she, when her son was standing right next to her, trying to tell her about his day, and you. you just looked so innocent.

you were engulfed in her smell, the perfect balance of pine and amber and erotica. she smelled like five hundred dollar cologne right off the shelf of valentino. you wanted to smell like that, wanted to smell like that, wanted to wear her clothes and have everyone think that you were together.

"thanks for coming, sweetheart. I'll see you on monday." you looked at her with your brows knit, knowing you had work the following day, friday. "take the day off. you did something for me, and I'm repaying you. use my card and get something."

the amount of money she had to just throw around was so attractive to you. she was an independent woman who brought in millions every year and was letting some secretary she had known for three weeks let buy anything on a day off.

monday had arrived, and you had purchased nothing with abby's card, naturally. you weren't one to spend someone's money just because they had a lot of it, or because they told you to. she would've had to buy it for you to accept it, at that.

it was nearing eleven when abby called you into her office by your first name, instead of one of the many nicknames she always seems to use. "sit." she demanded as you stepped in, and you did so.

"is something wrong, ms. anderson?" she wasn't mad, but she was irritated. she told you to do something, told you to put yourself first and you didn't.

"I told you to treat yourself on friday," her gaze left her laptop and met your eyes. "why didn't you?" you blanked for a moment.

"I just.. I didn't feel right spending money that wasn't mine." she gave you a disapproving look, before getting up and coming around her desk to stand in front of you. in a matter of moments, one of her large hands was grabbing your jaw and forcing your head up to look at her.

she bent down slightly, lips grazing over yours, and you were sure she could feel how much your face heated up. "next time I tell you to do something, you're going to do it. understand, sweet girl?"

"I don't-" your pupils were blown and you were so desperate for her to press her lips just a bit closer, fill the gap and just let you have it.

"say 'yes abby'."

"y-yes abby." she let go of your face and went back to her desk, pretending to pay you little attention, but she was acutely aware of the way you pushed your thighs together and squirmed.

"you're dismissed. I expect to see a charge by the morning." you got up and hurried out, going straight to the bathroom. your face was burning up, and you could vaguely see an imprint from her hand.

you were meaninglessly circling the mall, trying to decide what to spend this newfound money on. obviously you wouldn't get something big and glamorous, no matter how much she seemingly wanted you to.

every time you walked, you seemed to pass victoria's secret. It seemed like it was calling you to buy something, and after that interaction with abby earlier, you decided that maybe you should treat yourself and went in.

you looked around for a while before finding a cute blue set, with embroidered, lacy flowers. it was nothing special, just transparent and high waisted, but it was speaking to you. suddenly you knew what you were wearing to work the next day.

- - -

you felt completely scandalous wearing a short little skirt over the lingerie in the morning, with a button down, where the first few buttons were unbuttoned. it was different from your usual dress pants and blouse, but it definitely did what you needed it to do.

work was as usual for the majority of the morning, and you were suddenly doubting why you wore what you did. there was no point, you were seriously delusional and seriously needed help. what kind of freak where's lingerie and completely inappropriate work clothes to work after one minor interaction with their boss?

that was until you got a simple email from ms. anderson herself, reading nothing but;

my office. now, please.

you cleared your throat, brushed out your hair slightly and adjusted your shirt before nonchalantly entering her office. you sat, observing the way she remained quiet for a moment before clearing her desk and turning her attention towards you.

“did you think I wouldn't realize?” she asked, cooly, with her eyebrows raised slightly. “I mean, props to you, you did as you were told. but I checked the card. I'm not the only one who can see the transactions on that card either, sweetheart.”

you were immediately red. who else could see them? “I didn't r-really think-”

“no, you didn't. I bet the men in my finances would love to see you dancing around in whatever you bought, wouldn't they, baby?” she was standing before you could think, hands resting on the handles of your chair. “why don't you show me, huh? I know you're wearing it.”

“I'm not- we can't do that here.” you looked around, though you knew no one would ever bother her and her office had no cameras. “we're at work, abigail.” there was a fast switch in her eyes, the way they went from cocky to wide, almost needy.

“fuck,” her head dropped into the crook of your neck before she ran her nose along your jaw. “say it again. please, baby.” her tone, the gentle pleading made any rational thoughts disappear from your mind. your hand wrapped around the collar of her button down and pulled her in gently.

“abigail,” you whispered, “I want this,” with that, her hands were everywhere, all at once. she was pulling you up, wrapping her large hands around your hips as she pulled you in for a harsh kiss. she was forcing you onto her desk, keeping her lips to yours as your bodies molded to each other.

she left your lips, finding a perfect spot on your neck and sucking. you gasped when you felt her hand undoing the buttons of your shirt and pulling it out of your skirt. you were grabbing her by her waist trying to pull her closer as she continued to mark up your neck and grab your tits.

when she finally pulled away from your neck, her eyes became wide looking at your lingerie clad tits. you slid your shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it, looking up at her as you began to unbutton hers. she didn't let you get very far before she was gently pushing you back until your back was against the cool wood of the desk.

she unclipped your bra and pulled it off, tongue immediately meeting your nipple. she bit it and you yelped, grabbing her shoulders. her large hand was messing with your other, tugging gently and kneading. "I love your tits so fucking much, baby.” she mumbled into your skin while she kissed down your stomach.

she left more hickies on your ribs, but you desperately needed her in one place. she was pulling your skirt down in seconds, pressing her tongue against you like it was nothing and watching you arch and moan. she was eating you out through your underwear for a minute, before you grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.

"take them off." she smirked, and her head tilted slightly to the side.

"who said you're in charge, sweet angel?" the nickname was new, but you fucking loved that she always called you sweet. you were something sweet to her, and that made your brain lag every time.

"abby please," you bucked into her, chasing friction. that's when you felt it; the large bulge in her slacks that you hadn't noticed earlier.

"feel that, baby? that's all for you." she pulled down your underwear slowly, tossing it in the pile of clothes. she spread your lips, watching slick connect and drip down your thighs. your face burned and you covered it, embarrassed. "uncover your face or I'll stop." you did as told.

she pulled a ponytail off her wrist and pulled her hair into a bun before pressing her tongue into your clit and licking a fat stripe. your head hit the desk with a thud, reveling at the feeling. she worked your clit, sucking it into her mouth and painting patterns with her tongue while she pressed a finger into entrance.

she used her free hand to hold you down by your stomach, since your squirming was messing her up. you whined when she added a second finger, not used to her thick fingers. "if you can't take my fingers, how am I supposed to fuck you with my strap?" you moaned at her words, loving the dirtiness of it.

she returned to your clit and you got loud when she curled her fingers up into the best spot, whimpering and groaning. she remembered the time when you pressed your fingers to your cheek in her house, and brought her unused hand to your mouth, tapping your chin lightly. "open your mouth and suck," she instructed, noticing your confused look.

you took two of her fingers in your mouth and sucked them, which shut you up. your stomach coiled, a warm feeling rushing between your legs before you could even mumble a word. it felt like you just kept coming, until she finally pulled away from your cunt.

"are you gonna give me another one, angel?" she was unclipped her belt while you caught your breath. "wanna fuck you all day." she pulled her pants and boxers down just barely enough to get her strap out. "flip over, ass up." you turned over, fucked out muscles aching.

she ran the tip of her strap between your folds, letting your wetness lube it up, then lined up with your hole. she pushed just the tip in, groaning at the way you took it so well and swallowed her in. "what if I just fucked you like this, huh?" you whined.

"please.. need more," you pushed your hips back slightly, trying to push her in further. she pulled out, simply pushing the tip back in.

"desperate fucking whore," she thrust in on the last word, bottoming out immediately. you whimpered, the strap stretching you far more than her fingers. "aw, baby, does that hurt?" she pulled out far and fucked into you again.

she started fucking you, deep and hard, until you were moaning and grabbing onto the desk, trying to stabilize yourself. one of her hands left your hips and grabbed your hair, wrapping it around her fist and tugging. "fuck.. abby- abs.. mommy,”

your eyes widened at the name, which came out unintentionally. she stopped momentarily before groaning and picking her pace back up rapidly. "call me that again." the tip of her strap kissed your cervix and bumped against your g-spot every time. her arm wrapped around your waist, flicking your clit.

"mommy.. m'gonna cum." you slurred, cock drunk and fucked out. she kept her pace, hardly changing anything except for the fact that she was louder now, finding the perfect angle to get the harness to hit her clit.

"just wait a second, my love,” you held it for as long as you could, but it became too much, and she was hitting just right. your mind went absolutely blank as your vision went white, a wave crashing over you as you came.

you could hear abby moaning, but you were still going, and unable to think of anything. “fuck baby, you make such a mess.” you relaxed your tense body and look over your shoulder at abby's soaked harness, pants, and desk.

“m’sorry.” she slowly pulled her strap out and unclipped it front her hips, letting you lay for another minute before she grabbed your hips and helped you flip over and sit up. “wanna make you cum, mommy.” you looked at her with doe eyes, watching her eyes darken.

“I already came, sweetheart. don't worry about me.” you brought your hand down to cup her cunt and she took in a sharp breath. you ground your palm against her clit and she groaned, shifting her stance from foot to foot.

you slid off the desk with wobbly legs and kneeled in front of her, pupils blown. “please mommy,” you ran your nails over her abs and under her boxer strap lightly, making her muscles tense.

“such a slut, aren't you? want mommy to fuck your face?” you nodded, pulling her boxers down to her ankles. her blonde bush matched her hair, and you noticed her happy trail that you hadn't earlier. “stick out your tongue, baby, be a good girl.”

you stuck your tongue out flat, not even getting a chance to lick before she was pressing her cunt to your mouth. she fucked herself on your face, gripping your hair tight and grinding fast. you gently pushed her against the desk, lifting one of her legs to your shoulder and leaving the other one down.

she must have loved the new angle, because she was moaning and grunting more than you had ever heard her. her clit was twitching and puffy, wet from your spit and her slick. she let out an involuntary whimper, and it was like music to your ears. “gonna c-cum on your f-fucking face, angel.”

her legs shook as she came, ans you spent the following moments licking all of it up. you pulled away and stood up, still shaky. she pulled her boxers and slacks up, moving towards the pile of clothes and handing you what was yours. “do you wanna get dinner tonight?” she stopped what she was doing to button up your shirt and zip your skirt.

“yeah, that's great.” she smiled, kissing you softly.

“you can go home if you want to clean up. I can take my own calls for a few minutes.” it was your turn to smile, grateful to get out of your uncomfortable, wet clothes.

“I'll see you tonight?” you asked, looking over your shoulder once you got to the door.

“pick you up at seven.”

a/n: part two? 🤭

tag list: @shewantstoknow @baumbii @zombholic

[f1byjessie]

SUGAR, SPICE, AND EVERYTHING NICE ━━ FA14.

being the wife to a formula one driver is hard, especially when they're far away.

( fernando alonso x wife!reader )

━━ one shot.

When you were ten, you baked with your grandmother for the first time and fell in love. With the flour up to your elbows, an apron two sizes too big looped twice around your waist, and your grandmother's sweet voice crooning along to Sergio Endrigo, she taught you the differences between a teaspoon and a tablespoon, that a pinch sometimes means two, and when it comes to cinnamon you can never have too much.

“My angioletto,” she called you, her little angel, “it doesn’t have to look pretty when it’s done. When I was younger, I made my husband, your nonno, the ugliest cookies you could imagine. But I put my love in it, and he loved me very much, and he ate every single one and for the rest of his years claimed they were the best cookies I ever made for him.”

She’d lifted you onto the stool at the counter, so you could peer down at the mangled mess of cinnamon rolls. “It may look odd on the outside, but it is just as delicious as the others, and you know what? It’s even more special because it was made by my granddaughter.”

She’d wrapped you up in her arms then, pressing a kiss to your forehead and laughing loudly and warmly when you tried to squirm out of her arms with a giggle of your own.

“One day, my angioletto, you will find someone who loves you with their entire heart, and it won’t matter how pretty your baking is, because they will eat it, and to them it will taste like heaven.” She’d pulled apart the cinnamon roll, looked you in the eye, and smiled— “Until that someone gets here, I will stand in.”

You ate the whole pan together, and neither of you cared that it ruined your appetite for supper or gave you a stomach ache a little while later.

She’d driven you home that night after the sun had set, and when you got to the little shop on the corner of the market square, a little storefront overgrown with ivy, she’d slowed to a cruise and pointed out where the old sign used to be— where there was just an off-color splotch where the walls around it had been bleached by the sun.

She had regaled you with another story of her time as a girl in the kitchen baking bread with the owner, as she did every morning before school in exchange for a few dollars a month, and then she told you, as she always did, that one day she’d buy it for herself and turn it back into the best bakery Italy had ever seen.

When you were twenty— a law school dropout, struggling to find your place in a world that didn’t seem to have any room for you— you bought the small shop on the corner of the market square, turned it into a bakery, and named it after your grandmother.

It was all on a whim, a result of what you're pretty sure was some quarter-life crisis brought on by feeling as lost as you were. Still, you were living out the lingering ghost of a pipe dream from your teenage years that your father's harsh words and mother's disapproval had shattered to pieces, and following in the footsteps of the woman who inspired your passion for creation.

You’re nearly thirty now, and you still don’t regret buying the bakery. It’s your home away from home now— your home when your heart is halfway around the world and waking up as you go to bed. You love what you do, and you feel grateful that you’ve lucked out in being able to spend your days doing something that makes you so genuinely happy.

But that doesn’t mean that every day is easy.

Today is one of those hard days. Valentine’s Day is just a week away which means orders are coming in like crazy, and on top of the hecticness it’s also the thirteenth anniversary of your grandmother’s passing. Even though you’ve made it these thirteen years without her, the reminder of her legacy— her dream, which you now live for her— is no easier to deal with now than it was all those years ago when you’d just lost her.

The smell of fresh bread from the kitchen and the deep lull of Sergio Endrigo over the bakery’s speakers do nothing but remind you of her and the afternoons you spent in her kitchen, kneading dough and icing cookies. You feel like a little girl again, laughing over old stories of your mother and flushing bright red when she’d bump her hip against yours and ask if there were any boys at school that had caught your eye.

You’d give anything to hear her talk about her days at the bakery one more time, have her guide you through another recipe, or listen to her sing along to old Italian classics.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Beatrice asks. She’s a young American woman you met a few years back when she was studying abroad. She hadn’t known much Italian back then, and you were the first person she’d met who could speak English, so she’d asked you for directions to the nearest bus station and you had walked her there to make sure she wouldn’t get lost, which had led to you both talking, trading contact information, and eventually you offering her a job at the bakery when she announced to you months later after continued talking that she’d be staying for the foreseeable future.

You wipe your hands against your apron and offer her a smile. It doesn’t come as easily as it normally does, and you feel like it shows. “Just being a bit nostalgic today,” you admit, turning your gaze to the picture of your grandmother that hangs on the wall across from the display case.

There are other pictures hung up with her— you in front of the bakery on the day you bought it, the bakery back when your grandmother still worked there nearly sixty years ago, you and your husband the day you got married, and Beatrice with her three dogs to list a few, all things and places and people you love and want to remember.

“My grandmother, who I named this place after, have I ever told you about her?”

Beatrice hums, thinking back to the many conversations you have both shared you imagine. As she does so, she reaches for a cloth to start wiping down the front of the display case. “I don’t think so,” she finally answers, rounding the counter to the glass front. “I knew the bakery was named after her, and that she taught you to bake, but not much else. You don’t really talk about her much.”

You frown, “I guess I don’t.”

“But it’s okay,” Beatrice adds quickly. “I know family can be a touchy topic. If you’d rather not talk about her, I understand. I’m not very fond of talking about my brother, to be honest.”

The only time Beatrice does talk about her brother is when she’s drunk, which she usually tends to be when the two of you sit down over a bottle of wine and gossip about the happenings of your lives. You’ve heard plenty of stories about him, and thinking back to the most recent one in particular startles a laugh out of you.

Beatrice seems relieved when you glance back over to her with a soft smile.

“My grandmother was the greatest woman I ever knew,” you start. “Do you mind if I talk about her?”

Your employee— your friend— smiles gently at you and continues polishing away the smudges on the display case. “I would love it if you talked about her.

“She used to call me her little angel…”

INSTAGRAM.

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yourusername i’ll leave a piece just for you, nonna.

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user that looks delicious!!

user it’s actually my dream to visit y/n’s bakery 😍

↳ user no cuz literally same, idk anyone else who makes smth as simple as bread look so amazing

↳ user it’s like how irl some foods don’t look that good but somehow in cartoons they make it look like it’s the most appetizing thing in the entire world i would actually cut off my own arm and leg just to get to try a single bite

user così carino!! ❤️❤️

user how is it possible to make food look heavenly 😳

user every time she posts food it makes me want to marry a husband that can bake bc there’s no way i could ever do this myself but i do in fact want to live a life like this so very badly

↳ user FELT THIS OMG

user what a beautiful way to remember someone 🫶

user she’s gorgeous aND SHE CAN BAKE???

↳ user she’s really the most wag of all wags 😩

↳ user fell down a rabbit hole of wag interactions throughout the years and y/n’s introduction into the group is so iconic bc she baked them all cookies and brought them when she first met them all

↳ user i read that in an interview that she knows all their favourites and tries to make them all throughout the season when she goes to races

↳ user she’s actually such a sweetheart irl too, i visited the bakery before i ever knew who she was or what f1 is and if i hadn’t already seen that ring on her finger i would’ve shot my shot no joke 😔😔

↳ user what’s alonso’s secret??? where can i find me a wifey like that???

user this is gorgeous

user using food to celebrate a loved one is one of the most loving things a person can do in my opinion. so much love goes into food, but especially baked goods which take time and patience and practice. this is a really touching and beautiful way to honor someone, and i hope she’s watching down on you and thinking the same thing ❤️

↳ user didn’t think i was gonna be crying today but here we are ig 😭

fernandoalo_oficial mi vida, she would be so proud of you 💛

↳ yourusername i hope so, i am who i am because of her 💛

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tagged: fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername arrivederci 💛

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fernandoalo_oficial and may it be soon, mi vida 💛

user obsessed with the way fernando is obsessed with his wife

↳ user the fact that he calls her mi vida every time he addresses her has me walking into oncoming traffic 🙃

↳ user “my life” in spanish 😭😭 i literally fucking can’t when is it my turn to get a man that loves and cherishes me like this

↳ user honestly i think it’s just time to accept we’ll be alone forever cuz if he don’t treat me the way fernando treats his wife then i don’t want him

user for the ppl asking, arrivederci means until we meet again in italian, it’s a pretty common way to say goodbye in italy

↳ user AND FERNANDO SAID AND MAY IT BE SOON OH I AM ILL

user when will he return from the war…

↳ user it’s only february the season hasn’t even started yet so why isn’t he with her??

↳ user aston martin’s hq is in the uk and fernando has to be there for the car reveal, testing/sims, training, promo content, etc. it’s the logistical pr side of formula 1 that makes the season start a lot earlier than what ppl might think

↳ user AND OVER VALENTINE’S DAY TOO??? 😭😭😭😭

user mama y papa

user i want to grow old with someone and have pictures of our vacations to look back on and remember and i don’t think that’s too much to ask for

user she’s posting like he’s dead or smth 💀

↳ user i mean i would be too if my husband was missing valentines day bc of work tbf 🤷‍♀️

user i can’t believe fernando alonso bagged a baddie who ain’t even 30 yet

↳ user i can have you SEEN fernando alonso?? 👀👀👀

↳ user have you SEEN y/n?? 👀👀👀

↳ user two baddies bagged each other guys there’s not a lot to try and comprehend

Fernando being gone has never really mattered to you much. You miss him, of course. He’s your husband and ideally, you would be able to travel the world with him on a whim without needing to worry about who’s in charge of the bakery, but despite how perfect your life seems with Fernando by your side, there are a lot of things that don’t go according to plan and Fernando’s hectic work schedule is one of them.

The constant traveling across the season is exhausting for both of you, even though you’re not the one doing the majority of it. You attend his races when you can— usually when Beatrice forces you to, which is more and more recently as of late, with the logic that you should get the chance to see the world while you’re still young and while Fernando is still racing— but even when you’re home in Naples, the worry that you feel for Fernando as he flies around the world and races in a dangerous car takes its toll.

You wouldn’t even think of ever asking him to give it up, but not being by his side is hard and you cannot afford— for the sake of the bakery— to follow him wherever his sport takes him. So for now, you will always worry and stress about the toll it all takes on him as well.

You honestly hadn’t given much thought that he’d be missing Valentine’s Day this year, but it occurs to you now as you scroll through the comments on your post.

It’s by far the first time he’ll be gone for the holiday, but something about this year just feels different. Maybe it’s the stress of the extra workload you’ve taken on at the bakery to make up for the extra orders this year and the employees that have had to call out, or maybe the anniversary of your grandmother’s passing is hitting you harder this time than it has in the past, but whatever it is, the idea of Fernando not being here to celebrate with you has your eyes filling with tears as you sit curled up in bed.

Alone.

As you have been for the last few weeks now.

Fernando is in Silverstone, preparing for the launch of the new car and getting back into the swing of things before the new season starts, and this is part of the job you understand. You’ve been his wife for many years now. The racing may start in March, but the real season begins much sooner, and to a certain degree it never truly ends.

There’s always a push to be staying in shape, eating healthy, and staying up to date with all the up-and-coming news. Fernando has worked hard to try and find the middle ground, to enjoy his break while he has it, and take a step back from the Formula One world if only to de-stress from the sport’s particular brand of pressure.

And you’ve worked hard to accept that he will always be thinking like a race car driver.

Nonetheless, though you have enjoyed the interview clips and photographs of him being posted around on social media, and you love even more the pictures your husband’s teammate has been sending you and you alone, you can’t help but want to be selfish. You want to have him with you, in your home, cuddled up beside you instead of 1700 kilometers away in another country.

But that’s the way of things.

You’re about to turn off the lamp and, maybe, cry yourself to sleep while ignoring the very cold and very empty other half of a bed that’s too big for one— a bed you haven’t slept in the middle of since before you ever met Fernando, too used to occupying one side and finding another body on the other— when your phone lights up with an incoming call and his contact image flashes across your screen.

It’s late in Italy, nearing midnight now, and the UK isn’t too far behind. With the strictness of his daily schedule and the importance of a full night of rest, he should already be in bed by now. He should’ve already been in bed hours ago, if you remember correctly from past seasons.

“Fernando?”

“My love,” he greets, soft and sweet and sounding like just hearing you say his name has left him breathless. You can practically hear the smile in his voice. “I am sorry that it’s so late. I hope I did not wake you up, but I am calling because I simply could not bear to fall asleep without hearing you.”

You sniffle, wiping away at the tears in your eyes, but the quiet noise must’ve been enough for him to hear because he makes an inquisitive sound.

“Mi vida,” he calls to you, concern seeping into his words. “What is wrong? Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum back to him, shifting around in bed to face the window and the scenic view that lies beyond. You can see the ocean from your home— the dark water pulling in and pushing out and glittering with the reflected light of the moon, and the boats docked at the marina, still, silent, asleep. The moon’s glow paints the cityscape in an ethereal haze, like something from a fairytale. “I’m okay. Just a bad few days. I miss you, Fernando.”

“I know, my love,” he coos. “But we will be together soon. Do you remember what I told you when I left?”

As if you could possibly forget. The morning he left, a fog had rolled in from the sea and you’d swathed yourself in a shawl to chase away the early, damp chill as you stood on the stoep to see him off.

Fernando had wrapped you up in his arms, an embrace so warm and safe that the feeling had lingered for hours afterward still, and he’d whispered in your ear that he would move mountain and sea to get back to you if you ever needed him.

“But I always need you,” you’d teased. He’d chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, a promise, and then pulled you in even closer, tucking your head beneath his chin and letting his fingers run through your hair and comb through the remaining bedhead tangles.

You would similarly move earth and sky to be with him again now, just to feel his arms around you, or in the bed beside you.

“I meant what I said,” he says over the phone, drawing your attention back.

You hum again, “I know. But sweetheart, you have a job to do. It’s a very important job, too.” You curl the blankets around you tighter. “Pay no mind to my musings, okay? It’s just been a rocky start. The bakery has lots of orders to get through for Valentine’s Day, and I am short-staffed now.”

“What has happened?”

“What hasn’t?” You joke, heaving a sigh. “Rodrigo broke his hand in a biking accident this past Sunday, and the doctor says he’ll be out for a month at least. I can have him work the register and do minor cleaning chores, but we really need him in the kitchen because Andrea hasn’t yet been trained to use the equipment. I am trying to have Beatrice help with that, but it will take time we don’t have. On top of that, Samuel’s wife is having her baby so he has taken paternity leave, and Gemma has gone back to France for her mother’s birthday.”

Fernando makes a noise of understanding. “You are so stressed, mi vida. I wish there was more I could do. I am sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You have no reason to. In fact, I should be thanking you because I’m feeling so much better just hearing your voice,” you answer. Feeling the tears dissipate as your husband’s joyous laughter trickles into your ear from the phone’s speaker.

“And I am better just hearing yours,” he says. “But I will leave you to sleep now. It’s too late for you to be awake. Te amo, mi esposa.”

“Ti amo, marito mio.”

INSTAGRAM.

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lance_stroll i’m really only here to take pictures for his wife

view all 4,964 comments

fernandoalo_oficial the heart is for her only

yourusername and i appreciate you very much for it lancino 🫶

↳ lance_stroll at least someone cares about the work i put in 😔

astonmartinf1 Breaking News: Aston Martin’s Lance Stroll challenges Aston Martin’s social media admin for their job

↳ lance_stroll thanks but i think i’ll stick to driving fast cars. it’s less stress.

user FERNANDO MAKING FINGER HEARTS FOR HIS WIFE 😭😭😭

user if you look closely you can actually see me about to jump off the roof in that last picture 🫠

↳ user real

user why is the first one so cute??

user lance is really just fernando and y/n’s kid at this point, he’s the disgruntled son who reluctantly takes pictures of his dad to send to his mom, and he complains about it, but he secretly loves doing it

↳ user i mean have you SEEN what y/n does for his birthday each year??

↳ user no????

↳ user she specifically learned how to make bannock and a bunch of other traditionally canadian desserts and baked goods for him

↳ user i bet lance’s trainer hates that lmao 😂😂

↳ user you all are talking about them like y/n isn’t just a few years older than lance himself is 💀

↳ user leave fernando and his controversially young wife alone

↳ user guys?? he’s literally only 42?? y/n is almost in her 30s, it could definitely be worse. at least they’re both well into adulthood

user nobody talk to me for the rest of the day this is all i can think about now

user HE MAKES LANCE TAKE PICTURES TO SEND TO HIS WIFE PLS OH MY DAYS

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tagged: yourusername

fernandoalo_oficial throwback thursday, as they say, except it isn’t thursday and i just wanted a reason to post my beautiful wife. te amo 💛.

view all 1,165 comments

yourusername i love you more mio carissimo 💛

↳ fernandoalo_oficial impossible, i love you the most

user adding “posts me just bc he can” to my list of standards for men

user SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING

user “just wanted a reason to post my beautiful wife” oh my god fernando alonso the man that you are… 😩😩

user guys he’s the blueprint

↳ user she’s so lucky

user WHEN IS IT MY TURN???? CAN I NOT BE HAPPY TOO????

user she’s actually so beautiful omg 😳😳😳

↳ user they’re such a power couple

↳ user super excited for y/n to be back in the paddock this year (fingers crossed it happens more) cuz she’s actually so stunning and her outfits are always very classy and fun to look at

↳ user is there a reason she doesn’t go to many races?? they don’t have kids iirc, so idk why she wouldn’t be able to attend more 🤔

↳ user she owns and runs a small bakery in italy, which means she can’t just travel for 9 months out of the year. she shows up when she’s able to, don’t get me wrong, but it’s definitely less frequently than some of the other wags

user gen imagine being fernando alonso’s wife

↳ user i think i would cease to exist

user cuando es mi turno 😭

Valentine’s Day arrives and with it comes the added stress of knowing you’ll be stuck in the bakery all day helping last-minute patrons sort through pastries and treats for their partners. This in and of itself is not a problem, you’ve always liked helping people and baking is your passion after all, but the idea of rising before the sun and being on your feet until long after it sets is not the most appealing, and even worse, your usual happiness is still overshadowed by the cloud of gloom that’s been following you since last week.

Ever since his first late-night call, Fernando has been good about making sure to ring you in the morning before he heads into the factory, and at night when he leaves. It’s helped, certainly, but nothing ever compares to the real thing and that thought makes you feel guiltier every day that you think it.

He has a job to do, a job that he loves. Neither of you should be forced to give up your passions, and that just means needing to make a few sacrifices every once in a while.

He doesn’t call you that morning, however, and though you hide it behind as much of a cheery grin as you can manage, it stings and you’re disappointed.

But throwing yourself into your work is always something you’ve been good at, so you focus instead on kneading dough, mixing pastry filling, and icing cupcakes.

Beatrice finds you back in the kitchen an hour before the bakery is scheduled to open, and the look on her face tells you she knew it’s where you would be.

“You shouldn’t be working today,” she says in lieu of a greeting.

You shrug, sliding a pan of bread from the oven. “We are too short-staffed for me to not be working today. Plus, what would I do anyway? Sit at home alone pretending that I’m not? At least in the bakery, I can put myself to use and be distracted.”

All she does is sigh.

The morning goes well. There’s a bit of a rush when you first open, the most notable of customers is a disgruntled older gentleman who you consider to be a monthly regular. He explains a long-winded story about his daughter’s boyfriend breaking up with her over text last night, and needing something to help cheer her up. He leaves with a box of cannoli, and an extra loaf of bread you threw in for him on the house.

Near the afternoon is when it starts to pick up, but in a lull between customers just after lunchtime, Beatrice corners you in the back. Her arms are crossed over her chest, her eyebrows are furrowed, and her mouth is set in a line.

“Go home,” she orders.

You huff. “Beatrice, I am the boss. Not you.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“I am not going home! The rush will get busier later this evening and we are short-staffed—”

“Rodrigo’s coming in to work register in—” she checks the watch on her wrist, “—fifteen minutes. I ran Andrea through kitchen duty the other day and I’ll be supervising her the entire time, and Marco and Silvia both said they could pick up a shift. I also have a text from Samuel’s wife saying if we need even more help she would gladly get her husband out of the house if it means he’ll stop hovering over her, and I’m prepared to take her up on that offer should the need arise.”

You blink at her. There’s a reason she’s the one you leave in charge when you travel, but whenever you’re reminded of just how good she is at managing the bakery you’re always left a little shocked. She orchestrated everything in the span of a morning and you didn’t even notice.

“Why do you want me to go home so badly?” You ask her, shoving your hands down into your apron’s pockets. “Nothing is waiting for me there anyway. Even if we weren’t short-handed, I would’ve still been here.”

“You sure about that?” Is all she says before turning on her heel and exiting back into the front of the bakery.

You don’t pretend to understand what she’s talking about as you hang your apron up and head for home. Beatrice shoots you a wink as you wave goodbye, and it feels like some sort of foreshadowing for whatever awaits you.

Nothing, however, looks any different than it had when you left. You park your car in the empty driveway, collect the newspaper from the stoep, and unlock the door.

Your keys and the newspaper are both tossed onto the counter just inside the kitchen as you toe off your shoes. You hang up your jacket on the dining room chair as you make your way into the living room, and then you pause.

There, resting on the couch is a stuffed toy bear and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. In the bear’s arms is a little sign, and the handwriting is already enough to have your eyes filling with tears.

“Fernando?” You call out to the silent house.

You check the ground floor and find no other sign of him, so you take to the stairs and begin the ascent up to the next, continuing to call out the many different pet names you have given to him throughout the years.

You peek into the bedroom, “Mia vita?”

Stood in the center of the room, a big grin on his face, is your husband. Fernando looks mighty proud of himself, a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s had this planned for a while and he’s smug that he’s managed to keep a secret from you. He opens his arms wide when you just continue to stand in the doorway, and like a flip has been switched, you rush into him when a sob of happiness.

He wraps himself around you, and the feeling of his arms holding you so firmly in his embrace is warm and comforting, and everything you had missed in the weeks he was gone. Your face is pressed into the crook of his neck, and the smell of his cologne has you sagging even further against him, sinking as far as you can into his hold.

He presses a kiss to your head and sways the both of you back and forth.

“Mi vida,” he murmurs. “I’m here, my love. I’m here.”

“I didn’t know you were coming home,” you cry against him, voice muffled from where your face is still pressed against him.

He runs a hand through your hair, scratching his nails against your scalp in the way that always calms you down, and hums. You feel it in the vibration of his chest more than you hear it. “I wanted to surprise you after you told me how stressed you were. I told you, no? I would move mountains and seas to be with you whenever you need me.”

“Ti amo,” you whisper against his skin.

“Te amo,” he whispers into your hair.

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yourusername to the luce dei miei occhi, i love you more than life itself 💛

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fernandoalo_oficial mi vida i'll love you in this life and the next, until the very end of time itself 💛

↳ yourusername ti amo mia vita

user LUCE DEI MIEI OCCHI = LIGHT OF MY EYES

↳ user oh my days 🫢

↳ user i’m actually ill that is too cute

user they ARE that couple and they have every right to be

user WAR IS OVER

user i need them to adopt me right tf now it’s not a want it’s a need

user GUYS HE WAS JUST IN SILVERSTONE LIKE A DAY AGO??? FOR THE CAR LAUNCH??? THAT MEANS HE FLEW ALL THE WAY TO ITALY LAST MINUTE JUST TO SEE HIS WIFE FOR VALENTINES DAY

↳ user fernando alonso once again proving why he’s the best husband on the grid

↳ user i’m obsessed with them a totally normal amount

lance_stroll every time i saw him he was talking to someone about how he had plans to surprise his wife, i’m so surprised he didn’t end up ruining the secret somehow

↳ fernandoalo_oficial have more faith in your padre

↳ lance_stroll well i’ve seen my “padre” make the most cartoon heart eyes at a picture of baked goods so i don’t think faith is really gonna cut it. you’re whipped man 🤷‍♂️

↳ yourusername lancino you must put up with so much from this old man

↳ lance_stroll you know what? i really do

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @casperlikej @pear-1206

━━ a/n: this is the longest fic i've ever written, coming in at a whopping 5.4k words! and it's also the first request i've written for! so, cheers to that. this is my little valentine's day story, because i'm actually a big sap and i really do love good fluffy romances, so writing this distracted me from the fact that i'm actually very alone at the present haha! anyways, hope you all enjoyed! i also wrote this in under 24 hours, and it's a lot, so if there's any editing mistakes please ignore them, i genuinely could not bring myself to re-read all of this looking for every single mistake.

[charmedreincarnation]

Hi Maya I was one of your first anons back in March and I manifested my dream life. i just wanted to share some things that helped me, and hope we can all pass some knowledge so we all get our desires life. I did, you did, and everyone reading this can and will so let’s all try to help out by sharing a little of our journey. I’ll never create a blog because tumblr is a mess, so I’ll just share them here bc I trust you as a creator and I hope you agree with what I’m saying. Even if you don’t these are my assumptions and my truth

il get into my methods in one second but users of tumblr there are only 4 THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THE LAW (Inspired heavily by you bc I used your blog religiously) I will say you’re kind of too nice and I wish I had someone to yell at me like this, and tell me to stop being a victim!!! So if it sounds aggressive it’s because it is in the best loving way possible.OKAY SO.

★you need to understand that you want to fulfill yourself in imagination because you don’t care about the desires only how you feel about it. Bare with me it sounds stupid I know. But I don’t care about men or how they feel about me. I just want to feel worshiped and love, and I could fulfill that in my imagination. I don’t care about money??? It’s fucking paper !!! I just want to feel secure and financially free and want the feeling of buying my favorite clothes without looking at the tag. I GOT THE SAME FEELING FROM PINTREST EVEN WHEN I WAS POOR GODDAMNIT. I didn’t care about getting all As in school when I’ve always believed school is not a representation of intelligence. I wanted to feel recognized adored and respected which I had to feel for myself in my mind before it projected. I don’t care about looking skinny, I just wanted to feel snatched, I wanted to be envied, and feel pretty. And in my mind everyone wanted to be me even when I was ugly and fat. BUT I DIDNT FEEL FAT. Even with no change in the 3D I had my desires. This applies to all your desires, and you really need to understand that.

★you can affirm,visualize, understand states, understand non dualism, use the Bible or Torah m, wall twerk and say “I AM THAT BITXH,” use sats YADADAA . No one cares it doesn’t matter. you don’t have to feel anything or, even believe in wth you’re doing. As long as you think that having it in imagination means it’s yours that’s all that matter. I’ve read so many teachers, Neville, Abraham, Abdullah, Edward art, paid coaches, and they all do different things but say the same thing. FAITH IS KEY. That’s all that matters. Don’t let anyone you otherwise or tell you what you have to do. All teachers were once students, all success stories were once struggled failures, all masters were once lost okay. You are god so have some faith in yourself.

★YOU ARE GOD. You know what a god is, you know how a god works, you know god can do anything with a snap of a finger, kill anyone with a thought, look anyway it wants, have anything everything and create whatever. You are an omnipotent loving creator so create and give yourself everything.

★you can’t over consume, you can think from lack of whatever, and doubt can’t hinder you unless you think it does. Having a desire does not mean you’re lacking or else having the wanting for it would mean that too no? When creators say that I want to slam my head against the wall. Even now I have all my desires and I still think about them constantly. Thinking of new clothes to buy with MY WEALTH, I think of new food to eat that won’t even affect my SNATCHED BODY, i find new places to try and explore bc MY SOCIAL CIRCLE IS HUGE AND IM SO LOVED, I think of new makeup up to try to enhance my GORGEOUS PRINCESS FACE. I think of it in the same way from when I didn’t have my desired (I always had them in imagination but you know what I mean.) so there is no thinking from lack, or else you’re always lacking it lmfao the fuck. Anyways I doubted my abilities up until I manifested my dream life. I was okay with it in imagination and whether it reflected or not it was my escape I was content with. DID YOU SEE THAT. I had doubts up until the very end, and it doesn’t mean shit unless you think it does. Just affirm having doubts and obsessions only speed up your results. That’s really all it is.

Now to my story if anyone cares. I won’t make a blog for reason number 2 and 3 listed above. That’s all you need but if you want more info for curiosity go for it. I know I was curious and that didn’t stop me from getting my dream life. Anyways I have the same story as about everyone else here. My life sucked, I found the law, and it worked! HOORAY!!! But how did I do it???? Easy peasy, in a couple of steps.

☞ I tattooed my four rules above in my mind. When fear and doubt emerged I sunk that shit like the titanic and went with my laws that I created. It’s literally called the law of assumption like come on, stop fighting with yourself when you assume and create reality.

☞I ignored anything that I didn’t agree with. Sometimes I’d get so mad and be like WHAT NO WHY WOULD THAT BLOGGER OR COACH OR ANON or whoever say that?? But am I dumb ??? each of us have our own reality our own bubbles. The fact that it works for them and not for me started to only motivate me more. It doesn’t work bc I assume sooo… sooo why not just assume the opposite and focus on my rules like they did. The law is always in effect and working. Either it’s in your favor or it’s not. It’s up to you

☞I used affirmations bc repetition is the only thing that works for my logical brain. Anything can change with repetition. It’s basic science. So in the morning and night time I would affirm. ONCE. Repetition meant for me doing it everyday and not wanting. The rest of my day was lived in my imaginations. And the affirmation was to remind me in my vulnerable state that I already have my desires. That’s why my affirmation was “I have my desires no matter what, and everything I do brings them to me faster than the speed of light” it was kind of funny and made me chuckle but I accepted it as facts. Look guys…

☞I didn’t repress myself. If I cried or yelled or told myself “FUCK YOU” it wasn’t me tf. It was the devil or something. Be like those Christian fuckers who when their child comes out as gay…it’s the devil within them or whatever. I would talk to myself, yell when doubt emerged and when my thoughts weren’t the ones I wanted. It wasn’t fucking me so get the fuck out I have my desires so who tf are you ??? It will feel weird but you’ll get used to it trust me. If you’re uncomfortable it’s working. Getting rid of bad habits and your comfort in dwelling in bad thoughts is uncomfortable but it’s worth it.

I manifested my dream life back in March. I LITERALLY WOKE WITH MY DREAM LIFE. A complete 180. I won’t talk about my past life bc I completely revised it and I’m the only one who remembers so for the most part it feels like a long nightmare that has past. I’ll just talk about what I changed instead because that’s the stuff we all want to hear. Anyways I’ll just post some of my list here.

♥ my life feels like the song rich kids by freak ocean

♥I’m a pretty spoiled princess who gets everything I want but I’m still kind

♥I revised my entire family from looks to personality to zodiac to religion and etc. i rewrote my story which included my family

♥I have natural admired intelligent

♥my family has a net worth of 500 million dollars, and my entire family stems from old money. (Think aristocrats not slave or colonization money)

♥I can play many instruments and speak many languages

♥ I am 5’2, 100 pounds, I have natural stunning vixen beauty, and the most desires body in the world. I’m the beauty standard and people either want to be me or date me. I am naturally skinny and have no worries about my weight, I have clear skin that only gets clearer with my skincare routine, and I have my desired personality where I’m kind but also don’t put up with any shit from anyone because I know I’m that bitch. I also have great style and embody a princess !

♥my life is a combination of my favorite watpadd stories, Gilmore girls, gossip girl, and mean girls.

♥ too many people pursue me I have too many options

♥I have a perfect school life, social life, family life, friend life, and people always wonder what I did to be “so lucky it’s unfair”

♥my family has multiple mansions in America, monoco,Australia, france, and China.

♥I’m a daddies and mommies money girl

♥I put myself first (I HAD SUFFERED TOO LONG I NEEDED A SOFT LIFE)

♥everyone’s purpose it to make my life easier and make me happier

♥I’m spoiled and privileged in every aspect of my life

♥I’m a master shifter, and manifester

♥I revised my age to 14. I was 18 and graduating but I wanted to redo high school how I had envisioned it all my life

♥I have a “cool mom” people are always jealous how lucky I am

♥I have my main estate in Hollywood hills with my family that’s in a gated, gorgeous, gate kept neighborhood. It is 30,000 sq feet with my dreams decor, dream cars, dream pets, dream house help, dream room with all my stuff saved on Pinterest including decor, furniture, clothes, shoes, makeup and skincare.

♥everything good in my life I have manifested and it’s too much to list. THERES NOT REASON FEAR OR WAIT. Do what you want and assume it still works and it will.

You honestly said it better than I could have. Literally every single one of these points are so valid :)!! I’m glad you think I inspired you love but all I did was allow you recognize your own godly abilities. I’m very proud of you, and have fun girl 🥹❤️

Also. “All teachers were once students, all success stories were once struggled failures, all masters were once lost okay. You are god so have some faith in yourself.” This one million times !!!!! Invest your faith into yourself more than anyone else and you’ll see how fast your reality conforms. I also adore your point about the state of lacking bc I never believed in that. If wanting your desires insinuates it’s not yours, we would have no thoughts since that’s where it all originates from. In fact Edward explains it pretty well.

When Edward looks at lack, he sees it as being something that is only brought about by the individual. He believes that your own actions, thoughts, and attitudes will bring about an artificial scarcity of resources. Edward says that this artificial lack of resources is not actually real—it exists only in our minds, as we focus on the things that we don’t have rather than the things that are available to us.

He believes that true lack only exists when someone has no access to resources—whether those resources be financial, physical, mental, or emotional. When someone has access to resources but they squander them or don’t use them to their advantage, it isn’t a lack of resources that is at fault—it is the individual’s personal choices and attitudes that create the feeling of lack. Same way we see attractive people feel ugly though they have women or men chasing them, modeling opportunities, and experience many examples of pretty privilege lol. You’re a hot girl.. you’re just not using it to your advantage, same way you have everything in imagination and access to anything yet… nothing bc of your own perceptions. That’s not lack. Simply inappropriate usage of recourse. A waste for better use of words.

[justporo]

Guilty as charged

A/N: So I saw this post about pre-vampirism law school Astarion by @lavendarr00 today and immediately my brain conjured up this idea of having a sort of friends with benefits arrangement with law student Astarion (to both of your benefit ofc) and I couldn't stop dreaming... So have this quick drabble before I move onto other writing...

~~~

You were repeating the same question for the third time to Astarion.

He answered for the third time - and still got it wrong.

The elf rolled his eyes. “This is useless, I need a break,” he pouted and let his head fall back, leaning back onto his hands, careful not to knock over the stacks of books, rolls of parchment and scattered notes.

You just enjoyed the sight: how his chest heaved when he took another deep and dramatic breath in, how the muscles in his arms moved, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A sight to behold. But unfortunately looks were no characteristic that helped one to pass law school.

The two of you were sitting on the polished wooden floors of Astarion’s small but luxurious dorm room, studying for the bar exam - or some of you were.

This was the final challenge you had to pass, then you would finally be done with school.

“If we’re taking another break, we will never get through all of this,” you muttered and motioned towards all of the material surrounding you.

Astarion replied with a pained noise, head coming around again to watch you.

“Have mercy on me, my love,” he begged and threw one arm dramatically over his face.

“Astarion, tell me how you will pass the bar exam if you’re not at least trying to study,” you scolded him and watched as he gave you his best puppy eyes - the gold in them glinting.

“But I am trying,” he moaned and then sat back up again. His hands shot forward to grab your wrists still holding the book you had been reciting questions from.

“But we can’t all be as smart and scholarly as you, darling,” he murmured and dragged you towards you. “Or as beautiful. Or… distracting.”

As much as you tried to make a face at him for wanting to distract you, you failed. You lightly giggled as the beautiful elf pulled you onto his lap.

Sometimes you wondered if he had solely sought your friendship so you could help pull him through law school. Not that you minded. But then he really wouldn’t have needed to fall into bed with you - frequently. You would have helped him only because you liked him and enjoyed spending time with him. Not that you minded the time spent in his embrace at all as well.

Somewhere between you first arriving at Baldur’s Gate’s esteemed law institute where you had met Astarion - who always seemed to have a sharp quip or cheesy line on the tip of his tongue - and now, you somewhen had formed the habit of repeatedly falling into the elf’s arms and tangling in the sheets with him.

Neither of you had been seeking a strict commitment so this semi-exclusive companionship you indulged in was as much of a bond you both could work with.

How things would develop once you both left law school neither of you had addressed yet.

Maybe tomorrow you would bring it up. Maybe when you would have both passed the exam, celebrated with drinks and your friends and you would have undoubtedly found your way into his bed again.

But now, there were other things to focus on.

“How exactly is this going to help you study, Astarion?” you asked as his hands were wandering up your thighs and his gaze had fallen to where your chest peeked through the laces of your top. You couldn’t help but arch your back a little - make the sight a little more alluring to him.

He noticed and threw you a haughty glance and smirk, one eyebrow cocked teasingly.

“Oh, I don’t know if I’m being quite honest. But I want to test out a theory of mine,” he murmured as long, elegant fingers wandered up your body, immediately making it hard for you to focus on anything else.

“And what’s that theory?” you almost moaned in response and shifted your hips to get even closer to him. The movement bringing the delectable advantage of creating delicious friction for both of you.

“That you will stop bugging me about this damned exam once I have you naked beneath me,” he explained in a low, breathy voice as his fingers were already starting to unlace your shirt.

“Anything to get my clothes off I see,” you replied with a last rest of your wit before Astarion pressed his hot lips to yours and truly made you forget about really anything else. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you leaned into the kiss, drinking it all up desperately. Until the elf broke the kiss again, the gold specks in his blue eyes glinting mischievously.

“Guilty as charged, darling,” he murmured with the smirk you had gotten so used to and adored so much.

Then Astarion pushed you onto your back, knocking over books and scrolls. He immediately followed, lowering his body onto you, tangling your fingers with his before he pressed down your hands on each side of your head and showed you just how much of a convincing case he could make if he wanted to.

[cathrrrine]

Perfect / Love Won’t Die

Dominick “Sonny” Carisi x Reader • Law and Order SVU • Domestic Fluff, AFAB!Reader

Summary: Sonny happily holds the bouquet of flowers he bought for his girlfriend only for her to open the door and start crying. He immediately panics, but soon finds himself amused when she reveals the true reason for her tears. AO3

A/N: I’ve never posted any of my SVU imagines, but I had to with this one :) Happy 2024! My resolution is to post more of my work so I’m digging through all my drafts and posting them lol. Enjoy husband material Carisi <3

In all the six months you had been dating Sonny, there were never many problems that couldn’t be resolved with a simple conversation or a hug and a kiss on the cheek. As far as Sonny was concerned, it was the perfect relationship. He had gotten to know all your little habits; likes and dislikes, pet peeves, niche obsessions. Six months wasn’t exactly a super long time but it wasn’t short either. After only half a year of dating each other, he’d confidently testify that he had fallen in love with you deeply, enough to want to spend the rest of his life with you. He was happy to get married, have babies, grow old together…the whole shebang.

Things were going steady with you. He couldn’t imagine himself being with anybody else, and he was over the moon to know that you felt the samw way. Long late-night conversations about the future the two of you dreamed of revealed that you wanted him to be a part of it as much as he wanted you. Sure, Sonny was aware of how much of a (hopeless) romantic he could be sometimes, but that was in the past, and all of those relationships weren’t with the right people. His sisters had been talking his ear off ever since high school, warning him about women that would only break his heart. It made him wince just to think about all the red flags they ticked off angrily; gold-diggers, manipulators, emotionally unstable women, emotionally unavailable women…and the likes of it. That and their own broken-heart experiences that prompted very fuelled lectures of examples of men Sonny shouldn’t follow always rang in his mind, even until now.

He’d also been made well aware of how right they were about his exes with a bunch of ‘I told you so’s’ and narrowed eyes, but those relationships were in the past and he was much, much younger (and dumber) than he is now. He only had a couple of serious relationships in his adulthood, which ended up not being the right fit for either parties. Then, his love life got buried under the heavy, heavy load of police work and law school and he never found the time to make himself available in the dating pool. He was always too tired, too beat, too mentally drained. It was never a priority.

Then everything came to a stop and his whole world wouldn’t do anything but revolve around you. Sonny was smitten, like a lovesick puppy who got shot by cupid’s nuclear-powered bazooka as fate would have it.

He never felt this way about anyone in his life before, it was a feeling he relished in and was adamant on not letting go.

You were perfect.

Obviously, you had your flaws, but all only human, none of them fatal. Like how you had a habit of ordering too much food but he ends up being the one to finish it up when you realised your eyes had been bigger than your appetite — but he didn’t mind that at all, in fact he secretly loved being able to feast like a King — or how sometimes, you would arrive 10 minutes late to your dates on one of your busiest weeks, which he never complained about because he had his fair share of being unpunctual as well. Plus, you always made it up to him one way or another.

You were absolutely perfect, inside and out. Sonny thanked God everyday for sending a woman as smart, beautiful and kind as you his way. He’s never felt so lucky.

Sonny knew and loved everything about you, down to your weirdest quirks. If there was a Jeopardy! game where the topic was You, he’d be waving around his trophy like a mad man. What you didn’t tell him, he learned. It was the same way you got to know him. The two of you were always honest with each other, trust being the pillar of your relationship, it was why you got along so well. You knew how to make him happy, as he did for you.

So, why is it that you were crying as he handed you a bouquet of your favourite flowers as soon as you opened the door to your apartment?

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” His sweet smile dropped to a concerned frown, uncomfortable and nervous at your sudden reaction.

There you were in front of him, dressed in your most comfortable pair of pyjama pants and an oversized tee that he was sure once belonged to him, messy hair up that he found extremely adorable. Nothing seemed out of place, except for the fact that…well, you were crying.

He always brought you flowers. Was he late? He glanced at the clock on your wall. No…was it something he said? Something he did? Something…he totally forgot about?

“Nothing- no, everything’s fine, nothing’s wrong.” You sniffed, hugging the fresh bouquet close to your chest, dipping your nose into the floral fragrance to smell it only to find that the tears had triggered an onslaught of snot. That only made you cry more.

The bubble of nerves in Sonny’s chest was bursting at this point, he was almost worried he was having a heart attack. “Doll, you’re crying, something’s wrong.”

He held out an arm to pull you into a hug and you eagerly sunk into his embrace. You buried your face into the fabric of his suit jacket, breathing in what you could of his faded perfume. His calloused hands stroked your hair, softly caressing your head as he cradled it. He gently peeled you off of him to get a better look of your face, now red and eyes puffy from sobbing.

He held your cheeks between his palms and you pouted, looking up at him with sad doe-like eyes, and if that didn’t break his heart that he must not have one because the look on your face was shattering him in every possible way right now. One of his thumbs swiped a fresh tear off your cheek, he felt you nuzzle into his hand.

The tall blond gently led you to your couch and set the flowers down on the coffee table before cuddling up with you close to his chest. You wrapped your arms around him desperately, wanting nothing more than to be absolutely engulfed by everything Sonny — scent, skin and biceps.

“You’re killing me sweetheart, you gotta tell me what’s gotten you all upset like this.” You felt him kiss the top of your head and love bloomed in your chest immediately. “Come on, doll, what’s up?”

You sighed, big and loud, huffing away all the choked up tears with one big breath. “I swear it’s nothing. I’m so stupid.”

He was quiet for a while until you felt his voice vibrate from his chest again, “Was it…me? Did I do something wrong?”

You whipped your head to look at him, only to be greeted with a very worried expression.

Oh, Sonny. Oh, sweet heavenly innocent Sonny. How could you not love this man with every fibre of your being when he’s got that look in his eyes? The one where his pupils are so dilated, you could see your reflection in his big, blue puppy eyes.

How could you have been so careless?! Of course he’d think you were crying because of him, the sweet stupid man — God, you loved him so much. The thought only made you more emotional…and just like that the waterworks came rushing back in.

“Oh, God, Sonny-“ you hiccuped, pulling yourself away from him to put your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry- it’s not your fault at all,”

The lovesick, worried-sick man shot up next to you to pull you into his arms once again, stomach churning at the wave of emotions you were going through. He couldn’t even detective his way through this, his mind going haywire with every sniff that came from you.

“Then what is it?” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, “Did something happen at work? Is it that asshole again?”

With what he dealt with at his job, it wasn’t out of the question for his mind to be going down that dark path, but he shoved his anger and panic down to focus on your well-being, remaining rational until you were calm.

That made you shoot up to look at him again, words tumbling out of your mouth hurriedly to curb his worries. “No, no! I’m okay, I’m absolutely fine, Todd — that ass — didn’t do anything to me, I promise you, I swear to God. And it’s not you, it’s not anything even remotely related to anything sane at all. I don’t even know why I’m getting all worked up over a bunch of random things, it’s just so—“

“Doll.” Your boyfriend’s voice pulled you out of your rambling. The loving concern that radiated off of him was enough to bring you back to your senses. Gently, he asked again. “What is it?”

You melted immediately, both embarrassed and exhausted from all the sobbing you had been doing. “I’m on my period.”

Oh.

Oh!

“I know, I’m not usually this emotionally affected but my hormones are all over the place and my TV decided to autoplay The Notebook, now I’m a mess.” You sniffed. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have seen me like this, much less deal with me.”

It was only then that the detective noticed the TV screen, paused on Ryan Gosling’s frowning face.

He tried to stifle his amusement, but it came out in a fit of giggles, much to your dismay.

“It’s not funny.” You pouted.

“I just— I thought—“ His laughter consumed him, shoulders shaking as he held up his palms to his face and ran his fingers through his hair, uncaring of how it would mess it up. Sonny leaned back into the couch and continued to laugh with his hands over his face.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was so quiet it came out like a squeak, ashamed of how you cried like a baby in front of him. Although the two of you spent plenty times over at each other’s places and hanging out with each other, over the six months he knew you, you never had your hormones hit you this hard. It wasn’t uncommon to you, but it wasn’t a regular occurrence either, and it certainly wasn’t an event Sonny had the pleasure of experiencing…until today.

“It’s okay if you’d prefer to be at your own place right now, I totally get it. I won’t be offended in the least, okay? I’ll call you in the morning.” Some men in the past have been weirded out when this happened to you, so you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be offended — it was ‘your fault’ anyway, that was what you had grown accustomed to.

But Sonny, the ever-loving and understanding guy, did not share the same view. Of course not! Raised-with-sisters, loves-his-mother, thoroughly Italian, good-Catholic-man-who-respects-women Sonny, would never in a million years ever even think about being upset with you just because your period messed with your emotions. And that’s why you weren’t sure why you were so surprised when he responded to your offer with a kiss.

This was Sonny. He would never think lowly of you because of something you couldn’t control.

“That’s crazy talk, doll.” He mumbled into the kiss, smiling as he continued to love on your lips. “I’d never leave you alone like this.”

You pulled away a bit to properly look at his face, “Really?”

This was the man your heart belonged to. You don’t know how you didn’t explode when he gave you the most charming smile that ever graced his lips.

“Really.”

Everything you were worried about solved itself into place, like sentient puzzle pieces figuring themselves out with confidence.

“You’re too good for me.”

Unabashedly, you continued to make out with your boyfriend on your couch, a newfound appreciation driving you mad with love.

“I’m only for you, babe. Don’t need anyone or anything else but you.”

———

Now that the two of you were freshened up and settled down with mugs of hot cocoa in your hands, you and Sonny were much more at ease.

There was nothing better to Sonny than to be cuddled up with his girlfriend with her head laying on his chest. You practically clung to the arm draped over your shoulder, making a nest out of his bicep for your face — which reminded him of a koala bear, but he kept that thought to himself. He was so comfortable, so happy that this was his life. His nose pressed against your hair, the scent of your shampoo reminding him of a holiday well-spent together in Mexico. Deja Vu hit him the minute he kissed your head, laughing through his nose when he remembered the events that happened just a few hours prior.

“Hey,” he nudged you with the arm you were glued to. You pulled your focus from the movie you were watching — a comedy, nothing that would make the ‘bloody demon hormones possess me’ as you put it — and raised your eyebrows curiously in response. “I’m just wonderin’…”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you cry when I gave you the flowers?”

You groaned, still somewhat embarrassed at the flurry of emotions you attacked the innocent man with. But you humoured the question anyway, “I opened the door and you were standing there, so handsome and so sickeningly charming, holding up flowers that you brought for me. You should be worried if I didn’t cry.”

“Wow,” he whistled. “I’m really that handsome, huh?”

You playfully hit him in the chest with your fist as you resumed your initial position, “Shut up.” A smirk managed to rip it’s way through your lips. “But mostly, I was crying because I was so sad that the flowers were going to die. I don’t know, just weird how my brain works on my period.”

It was a nonchalant mention, nothing big to you, but it stuck to his mind. Flowers dying made you upset. How precious was that? He catalogued the thought, filing it away for the future. The inkling of humour tempted him, though.

“So, not so much on the handsome part?”

You snorted, “Eh, I’ll give it a 60/40.”

“It should be in the news or something. ‘Guy So Handsome, Makes A Grown Woman Cry’” he gestured in the air as if there was a banner.

“How about, ‘Girl So Hormonal, Makes A Grown Man Cry With Her’?”

“Psh, I didn’t cry.”

“You so were.”

“Was not.”

You laughed, thinking he’d given it up when the sound of the movie began to fade into your hearing again.

“You should come over the precinct, tell the guys how I can make the ladies cry just by showing up at their door.”

He wore that goofy, toothy grin you were so accustomed to whenever he was joking around.

You rolled your eyes. Then decided to mess with him. “Excuse me? Ladies? Plural?”

The grin immediately wiped off of his face. “No- I meant lady, as in singular.”

“Mhmm.”

“I mean— no, that’s not what—“

“Sure, Son.” The monotonous voice you used made him sweat.

“You know you’re the only gal for me! I was just joking…hey, baby, come on, look at me…”

———

Months passed by and relationship milestones came and went. You finally met his family on month eight, and him yours. Month ten, you got a promotion at work and thankfully — not by your doing — Todd left the company. Sonny and the rest of the SVU team made a breakthrough on a case, you met his coworkers you heard so much about for the first time when he brought you along for their celebratory dinner. He was teased relentlessly for ‘keeping such a wonderful woman from us all this time’. You enjoyed the camaraderie that they shared with each other, and felt like you won a prize when they extended it to you.

Time passed by you so fast that you barely noticed it was almost a full year since you and Sonny made it official.

The day of your anniversary, he made reservations for the two of you at a fancy restaurant — Italian, of course. You reminisced the journey of your relationship together over some fine dining and a delightful bottle of wine. The ambiance, mixed with the light-headed feeling from one too many glasses of wine, only made the love you had for Sonny so much more emphasised. It was a dream, to be loved by such an amazing man, to have found your soulmate. If you weren’t at such busy points of your career, you’d literally have his babies right then and there. A couple of mini Sonny’s would do the world good, you pondered. Unbeknownst to you, the subject of your thoughts was thinking the exact same thing, only he was dreaming up a babble of mini You’s instead.

Sonny and you walked home together — he had basically moved into your apartment by now, he was finding it harder and harder to be separated from you at night. Having you next to him made him sleep better, and just generally being around you made him feel better — the two of you never made his move-in an official thing, but there was no need to. It was almost like you shared a telepathic connection. Although, Sonny being Sonny, will make the moving in an official thing whether you needed to or not. Maybe into an actual house, with a backyard and a huge kitchen and a family to raise in to make it a home. One day. Maybe even tomorrow. He’d do anything, anytime with you.

“Got you something, by the way.” He grinned, keys jangling on the doorknob as he swung it open for you.

“Sonny, you didn’t have to.” You blushed. One year together and he still had that effect on you.

“Well, I wanted to.”

While you were taking off your shoes, he used it as a distraction to take it out of the hiding spot he so carefully planned — his height being an advantage to said plan — and waddled over in his socks to where you were sitting on the couch, handing it to you once he was sat as well.

It was a daintily patterned gift bag, not too big and not too small either, with a card attached to it on the front. You carefully removed it to read his words in neat handwriting.

Happy 1 year anniversary, doll. I love you so much. You make me the luckiest man alive. My love for you will never die.

You wanted to cry, so touched by his short but undeniably sweet words. He saw how your bottom lip jutted out, the way it usually did when emotions got the best of you, and smiled to himself with a bit of pride in getting his words right.

Slowly, you pried the top of the bag open, only discovering a plastic dome. “Careful.” Your boyfriend noted.

You wondered what it was, going over all the possibilities in your head as you took it out of the bag; lava lamp, necklace, tiny bottle, lantern…only to gasp when you saw what it really was inside.

A small sphere-shaped cactus with a crown of pink flowers, placed inside a white ceramic pot with the words, ‘My love for you will never die’ engraved in cursive writing around it.

Ahhhh, here come the waterworks.

“Sonny,” your eyebrows scrunched up, lips fully pouting now. “This is the sweetest fucking gift ever.”

Your use of words didn’t go unnoticed by the smiling man, earning you a chuckle out of him. “I remember the time you cried when I brought you flowers, and you told me it was because you were sad ‘bout them dying…it’s cheesy, I know. Corny, a bit. But I thought you’d like it.”

The rising inflection of his voice gave away his nerves, but you were quick to make your appreciation known. “I do, I do! It’s just the most beautiful and thoughtful gift anyone’s ever given me. Thank you, baby. I’m- Aw…“

You choked up and he took that as his cue to pull you into his arms, careful to set the prickly plant down so you wouldn’t accidentally get hurt.

“It’s true though, my love will never die. You’re stuck with me for as long as you want me.”

“You know I’m shit at keeping plants alive, Son!” You couldn’t help the wavering in your voice, “Oh, but this is just so, so sweet. You’re just too cute for your own good.”

“Well, I was cute enough for you to accept the babbling guy who asked you out a year ago.” The giggling that followed made his blue eyes seem brighter.

“Yeah, I couldn’t say no to that face.”

You took the comfortable silence that ensued as a segue to your own offering to him, “Speaking of this cactus being put at the risk of dying, I’m gonna have to appoint someone to remind me it needs water every now and then.”

“I’m assuming that would be me?”

“Yup.” You shifted around to look through your purse. “So, I was thinking…”

Sonny narrowed his eyes at you, “Thinking…?”

You held out your palm and reached out for his, dropping a familiar weight into his hands. As soon as you pulled your hands away, the object revealed itself to be a single silver key with a brown leather strap keychain attached to the ring, ‘Det. Carisi’ engraved on one side and ‘Sonny’ on the other.

He looked up at you, meeting eager eyes that matched his own. You were practically bouncing with giddiness, excited to reach yet another milestone.

“Move in with me? Officially?”

God, you were so perfect.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

[kookslastbutton]

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m)┃ch. V

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3,342

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), jk has milk obsession, oc injured, both lonely :(, mommy issues, lots of family drama/in-laws, fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, jk being good hubby to oc

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: I've heard the requests and I think it's time to fulfill them–how did they get together?! Yes, it's here and I'm excited to finally share! Also, yes this took up whole chapter so a tiny break from present-day stuff but we'll be back at it next chapter. 💞

<< ch. IV ༓ ch. Vl >> | series masterlist

Before marrying you, Jungkook had the same routine. He got up, showered, brushed his teeth, put work clothes on, grabbed breakfast, and ran out the door with twenty minutes to spare. Trying to find a parking spot at 7 a.m. at the university was no joke and he had to leave early or some college kid would take the last spot and not think twice.

His night routine was similar. Jungkook finished the day between 5 and 6 pm, slowly regretting he ever agreed to teach evening classes. He’d kick off his shoes, eat dinner, grade some of his student’s papers if needed, brush his teeth again, and went to bed.

It was a constant cycle and with no one around, not even a pet, Jungkook’s life was fairly quiet and systematic. Sometimes his buddies would come over on the weekend for a couple of hours and that surely rocked his world.

But that wouldn’t happen often during the school season due to his ridiculously packed teaching schedule. The most recent person he’d hang around during those months was Taehyung and if he wasn’t free, Jungkook would spend his time at the grocery store–stocking up on milk.

4 years ago

“That was two weeks ago man,” Jungkook says, pushing a cart with five-gallon jugs of milk to his car. He’s on the phone with Taehyung who's reminiscing about the grand opening of the new art exhibit and how “lovely” it was to meet you there.

Jungkook doesn’t need reminding though.

He clearly remembers seeing you there and Taehyung happily making a complete fool of him once he found out who you were. Thankfully you hadn’t seemed to mind too much since you and Taehyung soon moved on to discuss various art theories, masterpieces, and underrepresented artists.

“You didn't have to stay y'know.” If Jungkook didn't know any better he'd think Taehyung was salty. "You could've left at 8 pm like you planned. __ and I would have been fine."

Jungkook winces hearing the man's argument. He did think about going home at 8, but it unsettled him to leave you alone with Taehyung. His colleague was enjoying himself a little too much that night and there’s no telling what he’d do or say when he’s overly comfortable.

Jungkook had to stay until you left.

"Are you kidding me? Leaving you unsupervised would've been the worst idea after all your endless blubbering." Jungkook pops the trunk of his car, stuffing the jugs of milk inside. "God knows what you'd scar __ with."

On the other line, Taehyung smirks through the speaker. "No, that's not it......you weren't going to leave me alone with a woman, an attractive one at that."

Jungkook grabs the last jug of milk, slamming it on the floorboard. "Student, and stop talking about her like that. She's my stu—"

"Say student one more time and I'm going to take all your milk and give it to Yoongi hyung's cats."

"I swear to god, Taehyung, if you touch my milk I'm never going to another art museum or wine tasting with you again." Jungkook is very protective of his dairy products.

"That's okay. I don't need you when __ says she'll be happy to go with me sometime." Smug bastard, Jungkook thinks. There's no way you said that.

"That's bull Taehy—"

"Look she's in her masters and is literally eight years younger than you. It's not that serious so stop acting like she's fresh out of high school. Besides, you said it yourself, she's not a child."

Jungkook grunts, shoving the cart into the others. "She's a young lady who happens to be enrolled in the school. As faculty, we have no business thinking or talking about her outside those terms."

"For fucksake, Kook. You always make things so complicated!" Taehyung's baritone voice cracks through the speaker. "I'm just trying to get you to admit that you're into her some way or another. How many other students have I stayed to talk to and you couldn't give a—"

Just then a loud, high-pitch screech interrupts the call. Jungkook whips his head around immediately. He doesn't spot anything at first but a string of profanities remains audible in the distance.

"Jungkook, are you okay?"

"Yeah, but someones screaming and I can't tell where it's coming from." Jungkook walks around the grocery parking lot, eyes darting left and right. "Oh shit!"

There, near the bus stop, you lay on your side with your right leg stretched out and blood running from your temple. You try getting up but you fall right back down, cursing sharply.

"Taehyung I gotta go, it's __. I don't know what happened but she's laying by the bus stop and I think she needs help!" Jungkook shuts his phone and races to where you lay. He kneels next to you with sheer horror on his face. "__, what happened? What can I do?"

"Damn college boys, Dr. Jeon," you spit, dragging your leg up as far as you can. You reach for your bag which had flung about a foot away when you crashed. "So fucking eager to get off the bus and—oh damn that hurts like a bitch!"

"What hurts?" Jungkook lunges forward to catch your torso from slamming on the hard concrete. "Stay still okay? We need to get you to the hospital."

"I'm all set, but thanks. It'll likely heal in a day."

Jungkook shakes his head and wraps an arm under your back and legs. "Can you put your arms around my neck?"

"Dr. Jeon, I appreciate what you're doing but I don't want to go to the hospital. Please."

You're serious. No trace of bluffing or even simply trying to act tough. You really don't want to go.

"You need to be checked by a doctor sweetheart," Jungkook insists. "Whatever happened has made it so you can't walk. C'mon, my car is nearby and I'll drive you over."

"No, wait!" He feels you push against his chest.

"__. I'm not leaving you without making sure you didn't break a bone or something. I don't want to make things worse but you don't look so hot right now. So please, let me take you." Jungkook lifts you up when you give a barely consenting yes.

"You sprained your ankle pretty bad hun." Dr. Kim Seokjin draws your attention to the X-ray scan. "Second degree." He points to the visual of your partially torn ligament. "There's going to be a lot of swelling so you're gonna need to stay off your foot for at least 4 weeks."

"Do I have to stay here?" is your first question.

"For the first couple of weeks, we strongly advise—yes." Dr. Kim moves on to the next X-ray scan. "You also cracked a rib which will also take about 4 weeks to heal, or more. Of course you're head has suffered a mild concussion as well but it's very mild thankfully." Dr. Kim catches sight of Jungkook next to you, staring at the scans. "You're wife's going to be okay," he says mid-diagnoses.

"We're not—" you start to say but Dr. Kim continues talking.

"Wife, girlfriend, lover, what have you. The point is, much of what we have here will recover with a month of rest, ice, and elevation." He takes a pen from his pocket and starts jotting down something on paper. "I recommend two weeks here for moderation purposes. If things look good, you finish the healing at home. Still, be careful though, no funny business."

The blank looks on both your faces tell Dr. Kim he wasn't clear enough. "Yah, my filters going to die with you two doe-eyed deer. No funny business means no sex!"

"Oh god!" You outburst, mortified by the thought. Jungkook whips his head to your slack-jawed expression. "Dr. Kim, it's not like that between us."

The older man suddenly zeros in on your professor, eyes narrowing slightly. "What's the matter son? Having trouble getting it up?"

Jungkook jolts in his seat, startled by the crass response. "I—no, what? There's nothing wrong with my—"

"We're not together!" You shout before Jungkook's sentence finishes. "We're friends." Saying that your professor brought you here sounded a little odd for some reason, especially when Dr. Kim was already convinced you two were a thing.

"Mhm sure, heard the same thing from my wife before we went off and eloped." Dr. Kim treads to the door. If he has a dime for how many times he's heard that "we're friends" bs he'd be...well, he's already rich so never mind. "Let's move on to something more productive now, like getting __ settled in a room. The sooner she starts the healing process, the sooner she can be good as new again."

"Thank you Dr. Kim," Jungkook says, slowly standing up to stroll you and your wheelchair out of the room. You didn't like it but the nurses insisted you be in one to keep pressure off your muscles.

"Yeah yeah." Dr. Kim waves him off. "Just remember what I said, no funny business. Especially here at the hospital. You don't know how many times I've heard the nurses catching their patients on top of one another at 2 am in the morning. That better not be you two, whoever you are to each other."

"Yes, doctor." You both reply, thankful of the fact that neither of you are in any position to be looking at each other.

"Is there any way I can be here for less than two weeks?" Jungkook watches as you plead with the nurse. It worries him that you're still anxious to avoid medical attention.

"I'm afraid not," the nurse says simply. "If you need anything, press the call button and I'll be in as soon as I can."

Once the nurse leaves, Jungkook pulls up a chair next to your bed. "Stupid question but how are you feeling?"

"I'm in an ankle brace, my rib burns, and my head is still dizzy. I'm trapped in the hospital for two weeks and all because a bunch of nineteen-year-old boys couldn't wait to hit up some frat party," you groan, not bearing in mind your tongue. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this Dr. Jeon."

"You didn't drag me into anything __. I'm glad I was there when this happened and I'm even more glad that you're here, getting help." Jungkook clears his throat before continuing. "Even if it isn't ideal for you."

You ignore the subtle pry for information. "Please, Dr. Jeon. You don't have to stay any longer. It's the weekend and I'm sure you have plans."

Jungkook gives a faint smile. "So, you're saying this is none of my business?"

"No, not—not at all. I mean if you want to stay then I guess you can but I don't want you to feel obligated or anything."

"I want to be here," Jungkook says simply. "But you know that's not what I meant. I'd like to know why it bothers you when anyone tries to help you...if I may."

"Just habit," you mumble quickly, averting eye-contact. It's not your professor's job to bear the weight of your problems.

Jungkook nods in reply, pretending you gave a satisfactory explanation. He wishes you'd tell him but if you didn't want to share more then that was your choice —he wasn't going to force you. "I understand." He grabs his phone from his pocket and rests his elbows on his knees. "Are you hungry?"

"Huh?" You look back at him, his question going right over your head.

"I asked if you're hungry. It's about dinner time so I can get you something if you want. I also have a bunch of milk in my trunk that needs to get to a fridge. But I can place the order now and pick it up in my way back here."

"Milk in your trunk?" Is the only words you repeat, dumbfounded. "Like chocolate milk or...?"

"Nah, Whole Milk." Jungkook grins at your scrunched up face. You try to hide it but not very well. "Don't look so disgusted. Milk is good for you."

"Yeah when you're ten years old."

"On the contrary!" You flinch when his voice rises, along with his eyebrows. "Milk has a lot of health benefits as adults. It has thirteen essential nutrients and helps maintain muscle and bone strength. I drink at least two full glasses a day, if not more."

"I'm sorry but that's nasty." You shudder at the thought of drinking milk in your twenties let alone your thirties. "You really enjoy it? The taste?"

"Yup, always have since a baby! Loved it so much that my mother-" You raise an eyebrow to which he abruptly switches topics. "Anyway, do you want me to pick you up something or no?"

You giggle, a little uncomfortable with whatever he was about to disclose to you.

"That's okay, no thanks."

"You sure? Otherwise I'm gonna be eating in front of you." Jungkook knows how this sounds — he's trying to force you to eat. But the truth is, he just doesn't want to eat by himself tonight. He also doesn't want to leave you alone this early, especially when you obviously detest being here, for whatever reason.

"I'm sure," you say. "But...if you want to come back you can. Not like I have anything to do anyway."

"Good then." Pleased, Jungkook opens up his phone contacts. "Give me you're number in case you change your mind while I'm out."

Over the next couple of weeks, Jungkook continues to stay by your side. He leaves to teach his classes of course and to go home late at night, but he stops by every day—hours at a time.

You keep insisting that he not come so much but he always makes the same excuses. "I just brought food" or "You're on my way home from the university". Sometimes he brings in class notes too.

Due to your current predicament, you're missing a lot of content so Jungkook thinks it best to go over key principles with you and takeaways from his lectures. He says it's his duty as a professor–never minding the fact that many of his other students are in a predicament of their own yet he’s not bothering to do jack for them.

"Look Dr. Jeon, I appreciate what you're doing but you really don't have to. I'll be perfectly alright to catch myself up from the textbook and study guides. You don't have to keep stopping by." You try again but Jungkook keeps his wall just as strong as yours.

"I know I don't have to __. I know that I could leave right now, take all these lecture notes home with me, and not feel guilty about a thing. But I told you I was going to be here and I'm going to keep to that no matter how many times you urge me to leave. I also want you to call me Jungkook outside class but have you allowed for any of those to happen?" Jungkook tosses the folder of notes in his sachel, a loud thump following. "A simple thank you would suffice."

"I am grateful, I really am. But I never asked to be given so much of your time. I feel bad because maybe you're just one of those overly nice people who feel it's their duty to stick around or what not when someone's in trouble. I don't need to be pitied over! Also, you said I could keep calling you the usual, so Dr. Jeon it will remain!" Why you're raising your voice, you don't know but it's happening either way.

"Yeah I did," Jungkook quips, matching your tone. "But after the last, nearly two weeks I think we ought to be on a first-name basis! And I'm in no way pitying you okay? I'm here because I care dammit! I don't want you to be alone and I don't want you to be behind in getting your Masters. So I' try to be be here every day for at least fifteen minutes if not more!"

You don't fully process what he says so you reply to what you remember most. "Why? Why can't I call you Dr. Jeon? It's been that way from the start, twice every week. So why do I need to call you Jungkook all a sudden?!"

"Because it makes me feel younger, you insulted my milk after I first took you to the hospital, we've been eating dinner almost every night since your injury, you told me about your childhood cat named Mr. Muttonbottom, and you just called me by my first name so there are no take backs! Now, if you're done making a fit, do you want bibimbap or jajangmyeon for dinner tonight?!"

What the actual hell? You cease your arguing at once, hearing your professor, or excuse you, Jungkook, all fluffed up. Obviously, you're not the only one high-strung over being stuck in the same routine day in, day out.

"Jajangmyeon...please," you mutter.

"Thank fuck," he swears. Yeah that's new too.

"Sorry for getting mad earlier." You mumble the words as soon as Jungkook returns with the food. "It just feels odd that you've been here all the time...you're my professor."

Jungkook mauls over your choice of words, stiffening ever so slightly. "Well, I'd like to think we're sorta friends now but alright. Does this actually bother you __? I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, you know that." He places the bag of take-out on the small desk near your bed.

"No, it's doesn't bother me." you just don't know how to react or what to say besides a measly thank you. More so, you don't want to make someone feel responsible for you...you should take care of your own shit without bringing others with you. It's not the best mindset, you're aware, but its the one you have.

"Okay good because to be completely transparent, I'm sorta here for me too. I live my myself, eat by myself, talk to myself....I do most things alone so it's nice having someone else to be around." He's not sure where to set his eyes, so he looks downward, fumbling with the napkins in front of him. "I'm making this awkward, sorry."

Feeling the strange need to offer comfort, you stretch a hand over Jungkook's arm. "I get it. It's nice having someone around too."

You and Jungkook hold each other's gaze for a few seconds more, letting the brief silence do the rest of the talking. Maybe you've been looking at this a little too one-sided.

"How are you feeling today? Any better?" Jungkook cracks open the bowl of Jajangmyeon, handing it to you with a pair of chopsticks.

You take the steamy food and gesture to your ankle which has swollen down a good amount. "Still more healing to be done but it's better."

Jungkook hums in approval. "That's comforting to hear. Dr. Kim going to discharge you soon?"

"Yeah, I think so. A few more days and he said I should be able to rest up at home."

"Really?" He chews on his bottom lip. "Well great, uhm , do you have stuff going on when you get back?"

You think a moment, trying to recollect if you made plans with Na-Rae. "Maybe some but not much. I don't have a ton of people around me right now either...down here I mean."

"Well, do you wanna go out to dinner then?" Jungkook pops the question more causal than expected. It's almost like he planned this or at least has been thinking about it for a bit. "We've been eating together for a while now and I think it might be a nice celebratory thing."

"Are you asking me on a date...Jungkook?" Because it defiantly sounds like he is, as indirect as it may be.

His reply is barely audible but you hear it and for the first time, your professor sounds truly timid. "Uh, well...let's go with "hang out", like friends do."

A/N: so yeah, thats how they got together 👀😅 anyone surprised? Thinking about a drabble for thier first date now haha. Anyway, next chapter we get back to present day stuff where more drama goes down. Also, adding a chapter bc this flashback took the whole chapter lol. Lmk your thoughts 💞

Masterlist

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[sophies-junkyard]

NOBODY ASKED but… Obviously Simon’s arc in adventure time solidified the series as one of greatest of all time (and I’m so hyped for this ice king sadness renaissance) but now I’m thinking of OTHER Adventure Time moments that rewired my brain as a kid. In no particular order:

1. “Once the strong guys got it how they liked it they said ‘this is fair now. This is the law.’ Once they were winning they changed the rules”. They really had the cartoon dog say that on tv in 2014.

2. “People get built different. We don’t have to understand it, we just gotta respect it”

3. The entirety of All The Little People. That shit was absolutely nuts for a kids show but also like…. I can’t articulate the lesson I just know there was one and it haunted me. The danger of the human ego. Hubris. Irreverence. Don’t play god bro.

4. Lady and Peebles. When PB ripped Ricardio’s leg off and bashed his skull in with it. And it was so hardcore they edited it out of the episode. Bro. I remember watching that after school one day and how my jaw just DROPPED at a PRINCESS being so brutal. They let her be so fucking angry and that was a game changer.

5. [Finn, about a horrific memory] “that one’s going in the vault. Aaaaaaaaaandd. It’s gone.” I quote that CONSTANTLY. It’s a great way to bring levity to a bad situation, but also forces me to go “hey wait a sec that’s not gonna work forever”. Things don’t stay in the vault.

6. Puhoy. He lived an entire life in that pillow world. He had kids. And then it’s just gone like a dream.

7. The deer. It was probably my first real introduction to horror. The hand wiggle. You all know exactly what I’m referencing. Were the candy people stuck in that well for 6 months???

8. What Was Missing!! Obviously now because it foreshadowed (and confirmed past) Bubbline, but back then just because it was so good??? IMO, this is the episode that defined WHO our main cast was, and how their relationships needed to grow for them to be content. It set up the next 6 years of the show! Plus it gave us 2 absolute BANGERS. Ugh i rewatched that recording so many times it wasn’t even funny.

9. Ghost Princess. Really just for the line where he sounds like he’s gonna shit his pants remembering his death and then in a clear narrator voice he’s like “I was a broken man.”

10. The pajama war episode. Now I’m doing this from memory so I could be wrong, but I think this really marks the start of Finn growing up. “I’ve really enjoyed just… hanging out with you.” The ability to start over with someone you’ve got complicated history with. The kindness. The growth from both of them!! It’s a direct parallel of episode 1 but their tones couldn’t be more different and I love it.

11. The slow and horrifying realization that The Mushroom War was nuclear Armageddon. Mushroom clouds. That went so far over my head as a kid even though they reference it constantly. It finally clicked during “I remember you”. Which I am NOT gonna go into because holy fuck that’s like 18 posts on its own.

12. Goliad! A child mirroring EVERYTHING they see, for better or worse. Seeing Jake in a bad moment screaming at the kids and goliad absorbing that behavior. Seeing she can use fear to control people. Also PB was Fucking Crazy! Her line “I’m not gonna live forever… I would if I could” is even more unhinged when we learn (like years later) that she’s already 900 years old. But she does physically age so I guess there’s that. The Suitor also falls into this category of episodes.

Ok getting into some of the more talked about moments

1. OK I LIED I have to talk about I remember you. I was 11 years old. I turned on the new adventure time episode like usual. 10 minutes later I was grappling with a grief I had never imagined before. Absolutely BAWLING not just for Simon and Marceline (the PLOT), but for what it showed me. The reality that every kid tries not to think about: your loved ones will leave you someday, even if they don’t want to. It’s an episode that becomes more powerful with every year I get older. To get a bit personal, dementia has completely taken my grandparents from me. I’ve seen sides of my grandfather that should never have existed, and I must constantly forgive him for what he does… now that he doesn’t remember me. And someday it’ll be my parents. That’s just the way of the world, ya know? Anyways, I remember my mom got home right as the credits were rolling and we had a long talk about keeping people alive with memory, mortality, and how the future was far away and we should decide on dinner lmao.

2. The Hall of Egress. I was almost 15. Life was changing. I was changing, and it was strange and frightening. That feeling where you know you’re losing your childhood but you just want to cling to it. Follow the same old familiar path, stick with what’s comfortable. But life doesn’t work that way. It took me years to really understand this episode and it’s symbolism. Honestly I still don’t think I could fully explain it. It’s like. How do I put this. I was so glad to be in the target age group in that moment. I was so glad that something I was growing up with was assuring me “you’re changing, but we’re changing too”. And isn’t that the theme of adventure time? Everything stays, but it still changes.

3. The absolute horror of Ferns existence. He’s Finn, but he’s wrong and warped. All those memories of the people he loves and they can’t stand to be in the same room as him.

4. Susan Strong. The introduction of a RUNNING PLOT. The show up to that point had really been so goofy and so monster of the week. I think the only really plot heavy episode before this one was It Came From the Nightosphere? And then suddenly they call into question the fact that Finn really is the ONLY HUMAN in all of OOO. And then… is he? It was SUCH a departure from the usual tone. Ending that episode with him reaching below her hat and gasping in shock, but never telling the audience what he found. And then she’s just gone. Which leads us to Islands!

5. Min and Marty. Second saddest episode in the entirety of adventure time, made worse because you know exactly how this family is gonna end up. There’s SO MUCH to dissect about Martins behavior in the series. A reformed con artist receives a traumatic brain injury while attempting to save his son. They’re both lost at sea, and he never looks for him. Was it the emotional trauma? Was it the physical damage? Meanwhile a mother loses her husband and her child in a single night and never EVER learns why. Nobody but Martin knows what happened that night. Also Finns fear of the ocean from season 1 is finally explained. 7 years of ignoring Finns origins and then they throw you THIS??? Watching it live was unreal.

Anyways I’m sure I’ll think of more. I might add on to this later for my own sake lmao, but I’d love to hear other peoples formative moments, quotes, episodes, etc. I really just needed to dump this information out of my brain so I can get on with my week.

[wellofdean]

OK, I was going to reblog this excellent post by @luckshiptoshore so go read it, because yes. Yes!! YES!!! But then when I got started my post got super long and I felt bad tacking it onto her post and decided to make my own in response to these tags:

#i am actually a bit obsessed by the whole hunting as queerness metaphor#it’s so clearly something everyone involved in the show is thinking about#supernatural

Gurl, me too! Like go back to the start! By the time Supernatural began, the backlash against the Joseph Campbell Monomyth-style mode of storytelling had already begun in the hallowed halls of USC film school, and yo: I was there at the time of Kripke's graduation, and my best friends from college are full scale big giant time filmmakers now, whose names I will not share on main because it's uncool, and I don't want that attention, but... yeah. I am referencing FIRST HAND SOURCES on this.

But, for a real source? The Oxford English Dictionary places the first use of the term "Queer Theory" in 1990, with Queer Studies as an option in the academy by 1992. I know the kids think it's a new-fangled thing, but Kripke graduated USC in 1996 (I graduated in 1995) and it was ALL THE RAGE by then. My friends read queer theory in their Critical Studies courses in the Film School, I read it in the College of Humanities getting my degree in Literature. By that time, you could not get through that school with any degree in any non-STEM subject without knowing about ye olde postmodern lenses, queer and feminist theory, and without knowing how to employ those lenses.

Queer refers to sexuality, yes, but the word's earliest use (again, according to the OED) is in the 1500's, meaning: strange, odd, peculiar, eccentric. Also: of questionable character; suspicious, dubious.

So, ok, in 2005, Enter Supernatural, episode 1:

Presented? Two brothers. One actively seeking credit in the straight world that is not available to him in the bosom of his family: Stanford, law school, hot co-ed girlfriend, the other bound to his fractured, wounded family by duty, yes, but also by love, living on the fringe, alone, fighting monsters, and chasing after his father's approval, and who has long since given up any dream of being 'normal'. Episode 1 presents Sam's call to adventure, which he refuses when it's just familial duty, honor and love calling him, but accepts when the show takes a very straightforward and very telling path by classically fridging his woman. Ok, now he's on board. Like John, whose motivation is another dead woman, his motivation is revenge. So far so straight!

Dean though: he's different. He is already on the adventure and he was not 'called' or given the option of accepting or refusing because he had no agency when his feet were set upon this road. He does not fit the straight world at all, because he is cobbled together out of love, duty, deep guilt, striving, desperation and fear. This is who he is now, in some elemental, incontrovertible way. It was not a choice for him, he was born to it. His mother is dead, and we later learn, she made the choices that brought them all to this fate. Dean remembers her idyllically, but he is not motivated by revenge, more than any other thing, he wants to be worthy. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love.

Enter Supernatural's main theme: fucked up relationships between men enmeshed in patriarchy, which will eventually expand to include fucking GOD HIMSELF.

And like, there are SO MANY CLEAR STEPS ALONG THE ROAD in season one, and I am not even talking about sexuality and gender here, but there is SO MUCH TO SAY about it in season 1. But I am not talking about that -- I am talking at a structural, narrative level, the whole thing is just fucking all the way queered, yo.

The big climax?

At the end of the season, Dean says: "I just want my family back together. You, me, Dad... it's all I have." He is Sam's mother, John's partner! His vulnerability and emotion is feminized and contrasted with Sam and John's more overtly driven by their more masculine/straight heroic revenge quest. John: "Sam and I can get pretty obsessed, but you always take care of this family." Only that's not John talking, it's Azazel, and Dean knows it is because his father would never forgive how soft he is, how he will always choose love and family over revenge. Then, in the end, the show makes a huge point of telegraphing that Sam is finally aligning with Dean by refusing to shoot Azazel because he's possessing John, and Sam just can't do that to Dean.

Sam and Dean are thus bound together and cemented into a marginalised path, living on the road, haunting liminal spaces and cheap motels, confronting the monstrous everyday. Sam is presented as the brains of the operation, he does research, logics his way through things (masculine) while Dean is the heart who acts impulsively and on instinct and intuition (feminine).

It later transpires that Sam has a piece of the monster inside himself, and Dean has to learn to love the monstrous, he has no choice, because Sam is his brother and then Cas... and, and, and!

Like... I could go on and on, citing ENDLESS EXAMPLES. This could be a literal book. Maybe one you need to read with a magnifying glass like my condensed edition of the OED. LIke, the queerness of Supernatural is DIZZYING and MYRIAD.

But basically? FROM THE START, hunting is a queered version of family, and within that, Dean is a queered version of a Campbellian hero. Hunting is a metaphor for otherness and liminality, and that's even before you say a WORD about sex. It starts in deviation from the norms of family, masculinity and expands from there on so many levels both in story and on a meta level. The story is flesh on queer fucking bones.

I'm so sorry, but anyone who thinks queerness was not BAKED INTO Supernatural and more specifically into Dean from DAY 1 has clearly never seen Dean's insane lip gloss in season 1, and vastly underestimates the cultural awareness of people who write shit in Hollywood, and also the other people who put pink lip gloss on pretty boys in Hollywood. Nothing that gets on your screen wasn't a fucking choice made and approved by a LONG LIST of people who know what they are about.

[arisuworld]

LAW OF ASSUMPTION : AN EPIPHANY-Ⅰ

⋆ ☾ : What is the law of assumption?

Law of Assumption in it's simplest form is: WHATEVER YOU ASSUME, YOU WILL HAVE IT IN YOUR REALITY. Now, for example : if you were assuming that you're a billionaire, then BY LAW you're a billionaire. You will have it in your reality in no time!! ALL ASSUMPTIONS HARDEN INTO A FACT.

⋆ ☾ : If it’s that easy, then why do people fail?

First of all, you cannot “fail” in the law of assumption, there is never failure in the law of assumption. The LAW CANNOT FAIL YOU!! People simply don’t get their desires for many reasons, which i will discuss thoroughly :-

1. THEY ARE IN THE “WAITING” ZONE.

This is a common mistake and i see it all the time, you are NOT WAITING FOR YOUR DESIRES, your desires are already YOURS. Once you assume it, then your desire is yours, thats it. It's done. Start maintaining the state of wish fulfilled.

State of wish fulfilled isn’t being happy or excitement, it's the fulfilment and acceptance that your manifestation is yours, it's a natural feeling.

2. THEY GO BACK TO THE OLD STORY.

“Your assumption to be effective, cannot be a single isolated act, it must be a maintained attitude of wish fulfilled” — Neville Goddard

You cannot serve two masters at once, to successfully manifest you must kill the old beliefs you’ve had, you must get rid of the limiting beliefs you’ve entertained. For example: if you’re manifesting a new desired appearance, you can’t keep persisting in the assumption that you’re ugly and start tearing yourself apart, you must persist in the assumption that you HAVE your desired appearance.

3. THEY ASSUME THEY HAVE TO DO A LOT OF THINGS TO GET WHAT THEY WANT.

THIS IS WRONG! You do not have to lift a finger to get what you want, you can stay in the comfort of your bed and home to get your dream life, the only thing you have to do is get out of the comfort zone of a victim mindset. Methods, yes they’re helpful but are they necessary? no. You do not have to do the void, SATS, scripting, 5x55 or 3x33 or lullaby method to get what you want. You just need yourself and your mind.

4. THEY HAVE A FEAR OF FAILURE.

As i mentioned before, you cannot fail. So, GO ALL IN, start taking that leap of faith, nothing bad will happen, start believing in yourself and start having faith within yourself because trust me YOU CAN. You can do it. Majority of people have this longing fear that they’re wasting their time but it WILL WORK and it's NOT A WASTE OF TIME. The biggest risk is sitting there idly by not doing anything and staying in the same position when know all this power you have!

5. LACK OF SELF CONCEPT.

Self concept is something everyone will benefit from, no matter what, take it from me. When i focused on my self concept i got better treatment from other people, people treated me with respect, i treated myself with respect, toxicity out of my life, fortune and luck everywhere i go.

Our concept of ourselves revolves around our manifestations; if you always thought of yourselves as ugly, a loser, stupid you don’t have that self respect for yourself and you dont feel worthy enough. Look at rihanna, rihanna treats herself highly and so does everyone else around her. why? because she has a high concept of herself and SHE KNOWS that she deserves to be treated with the upmost respect and she reflects that.

⋆ ☾ : So, it’s really that easy?

YES! it really is that easy, a lot of people don’t think its easy because of the way they VIEW it. Some people view law of assumption as a job or a chore when it really isn't. We assume everyday without even realising it, when we see food that looks gross to us, we assume that it most-likely tastes like absolute garbage and because we assumed it so....IT IS!

That girl in your school who you think is a snobby little privileged bully? if you changed their assumption on them and replaced it with new beliefs and maintained those new beliefs then they would change.

[There will be total four parts of this series!! Also, THIS POST IS NOT MINE. I just edited this and posted here because a lot of people need to read this]

[milktei]

Hi! I was wondering if your requests are still open, if so, could I maybe pwease have an Osamu OS with angst but comfort at the end? Like Samu is super busy with the restaurant to be with his partner, so his partner hangs out with Tsumu and it makes Osamu jealous? Thanks in advance!❤️

Jealousy and Love

Miya Osamu x gn!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Minor manga spoilers. not edited :P

Requests: Closed for now as i catch up on both requests and school

a/n: Hope this is to your liking! I feel as if the ending was a teeny bit fast for me but i couldn’t think of what else to write lmao. Writing in the twins and there accent is a big of a hurdle for me but i enjoyed writing it a lot :3

Waking up to an empty bed is something you had grown to get used to.

The opening of Osamu’s restaurant meant that he was extremely busy, he was there from opening to close, cooking, serving customers, watching his employees, budgeting, creating schedules.

The business was far from a well oiled machine at this point, but you couldn’t be more proud of your boyfriend for making his dreams become a reality.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel the sting of loneliness that creeped up on you whenever you saw his side of the bed empty.

It was the weekend, a day where you didn’t have work but your boyfriend did. A five day work week was just not possible with his restaurant.

You sighed as you turned over in bed again, having been up for over an hour at this point. Deciding to not let the rest of the day go to waste, you got up to in hopes to do something productive.

You had managed to start a load of laundry when you heard a knock at your door.

You looked at your front door in confusion at the sound, you hadn’t been expecting any company or deliveries that day. You stood there wondering who it could possibly be.

Another knock.

“Oi! Anyone home?”

Ah. That answered it.

You walked to the front door and opened it, revealing a mop of bleach blond hair that was all too familiar to you.

“Atsumu? What are you doing here?”

The man pouted at you, “whatever happened to “hi Atsumu! it’s good to see you.”?”

You stared at him blankly, “hi Atsumu, it’s good to see you. What are you doing here?”

He huffed “Well hello to you too. If you must know I’ve weirdly found myself with a lot of free time and thought that I would take that time to spend it with my dear brother and his partner. Now can I come in?”

You opened the door wider and moved aside to let him in, “so in other words. It’s off season and you’re so bored with all your free time that you decided that it was time to bother Osamu and I.” you paused, “don’t you have partner to bother instead?”

Atsumu scoffed as he took his shoes off “no need to rub my loneliness in y/n”

You sighed “No I think we’re in the same boat.”

He sat down at your dinning table and nodded in thanks when you put a glass of water down in front of him. “‘Samu’s not here? It’s the weekend.”

You sat in the chair front of him “No he’s been busy with the restaurant these past weeks.” It was your turn to pout “He’s really only off on Sunday’s and even then he’s usually exhausted.”

“So what you just sit here alone most days? when’s the last time you’ve gone out and done something fun?”

Your silence was enough of an answer to Atsumu.

“Well this is just unacceptable!” Atsumu suddenly stood up from his spot startling you with his outburst, he pointed at you “as the certified funner twin, I say that we go out to have a fun brother, partner-in-law day out!”

You looked up at his wide grin in shock “Your brother and I aren’t married-“

“So where do ya wanna go? I’ll pay.”

You opened your mouth to protest but stopped. It really had been a long time since you’ve gone out to do something fun as you were waiting for the day that Osamu would be free again.

But that seemed so far into the future. When would another opportunity like this present itself again?

“Well…” Your started, “there’s this cafe I’ve been wanting to go to, and down the street from it is the claw machine arcade that we haven’t been able to go to yet.”

“Great! Let’s go!”

Atsumu excitedly made his way to the door before you called out to him. “Atsumu wait!”

“Whattt? Don’t flake on me already.”

“At least let me get ready first.”

Atsumu looked at the state you were in. Still in pyjamas, hair a mess, and wearing your house slippers.

He silently made his way back to the dining table and slid back into his chair.

“I’ll wait here, take yer time.”

———

Your time with Atsumu had turned out to be a lot more fun than your would care to admit to the blond, in fear that his ego would grow bigger than you could handle.

The cafe you suggested had a calming atmosphere along with wonderful food and drinks. You could tell that Atsumu liked the place too with how many pictures he was taking of the place.

The claw machine arcade also showed just how stubborn the man was.

“Atsumu you’ve spent more at this machine than what the prize is worth. You could probably find it onli-“

“Ya don’t understand y/n! it’s the feeling of finally winning that matters. I’m so close I just know it.”

“…if you say so.”

In the end, Atsumu had won that prize, and combined with the prizes you had won, you were bringing home a multitude of things ranging from plush toys, to figures, and even snacks.

You insisted that Atsumu come back to your place for dinner, in a way trying to make up for how much he had spent during your time out in the city.

With Atsumu having found his spot on your couch with the tv remote, you were nearly finished cooking when you heard the familiar sound of a key unlocking your front door.

“I’m home.” You boyfriend called out as her took off his shoes.

“Welcome home.” You replied back.

There was a pause, “is someone here y/n?” Osamu asked from the entrance.

“Only Atsumu.”

“So no one important then.”

“Oi!”

Osamu appeared from the entrance and rolled his eyes at the sight of his brother lounging on the couch, walking to the kitchen he crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his kissed your cheek, you smiled softly.

Both of you ignored Atsumu’s fake gag.

“You’re home early.” you noted.

“Everything seemed to be going well, thought I could treat myself a little bit.”

“This is early?” Atsumu piped up from the couch

Osamu glared at the back of his brother’s head “Yes, the restaurant closes at nine, i’m trusting that my employees will be able to do it.” his eyebrows furrowed “why are ya in my house?”

Atsumu glared “First of all it’s yours and y/n’s house, second of all aren’t ya glad to see your only brother ‘Samu?”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’s not volleyball season and he’s lonely.” You answered from your spot at the stove, ignoring Atsumu’s splutters of indignation.

You grabbed three plates and quickly set the table, inviting the boys to sit and enjoy an eventful dinner.

When you were finished, Osamu had grabbed the dirty dishes and began making his way to the sink when he finally noticed the large bag of prizes you and Atsumu had dumped on the living room floor.

“What’s all that from?”

“Oh!” you piped up in excitement, “those are from the claw machine arcade. Atsumu and I won a bunch of stuff, even snacks! you can look and grab some if you’d like.”

“He’ll no he can’t! I spent my precious sanity winning all that stuff.” Atsumu protested

“Atsumu I won the most prizes out of the both of us.”

“Well I paid for it along with yer order at the cafe.”

“You were the one who insisted!”

Osamu paused as the two of you bickered, “Cafe?”

You stopped your teasing to look at your boyfriend “Yeah! the one with all the flowers I showed you like months ago. I told Atsumu about it and he insisted we go.”

“I got pictures! ‘Samu look at this.”

The sound of dishes clattering aggressively in the sink was followed by silence.

“I thought that we were going to go together?” Osamu asked bitterly, he glared at the picture Atsumu was showing him of you mid claw game, “and you went to the arcade too? Without me?”

You looked up at Osamu from your seat, fidgeting nervously as he crossed his arms over his chest, “I know we talked about it before but we’ve never really had the chance. You’ve been so busy lately.”

“So you decide to go without me and with my brother of all people?”

The silence that filled your house was deafening. Osamu’s anger seemed to grow by the second.

Atsumu coughed awkwardly. “Ya know what I think it’s time I go, I’m suddenly busy. Okay bye!”

In record time Atsumu had grabbed his things and fled your home, leaving you alone with Osamu.

The front door slammed shut and the tension in the room bore down on you. Osamu’s glare kept you frozen in your seat.

“Well?” Osamu urged, wanting an explanation.

“I don’t know what you want me to say Osamu.” You said, defending yourself, “Atsumu offered and I couldn’t refuse.”

“Except you could.”

You looked at him incredulously, “and then what? We sit here in the apartment doing nothing instead?”

“No! You kick him out! Tell him to leave!”

“That’s your brother Osamu, I can’t just shut him out!”

Osamu scoffed, “yes you can, and you should have. Instead of running off to god knows where.”

“Oh so that I could sit in this apartment by myself doing nothing again? Do you know just how bored i’ve been?”

“We could’ve gone-“

You threw your hands up in the air,,“When!? when Osamu? When could we have gone out together for an entire day? You’ve been so busy that I can’t remember the last time we’ve been able to go out on a date.”

“That not fair y/n, you know that the-“

“Restaurant? Yes I know damned well about the restaurant and how it’s important for you to be there, especially in the beginning stages. But can you blame me for not wanting to wait around every single day?”

“We agreed early on that this would take time to settle, that I would be working long hour and I wouldn’t be able to be around as often. You knew this well in advance y/n. So yes I’m sorry that you have to deal with what you agreed with, and I’m so sorry that for once, the world isn’t revolving around YOU!”

You froze where you sat. Osamu had never been once to raise his voice at you,

“Do you really think that I’m that full of myself? That I think that I deserve all the attention in the world or else I will wither away?” you stood from your spot “Do you know how lonely it’s been for me? Just how much I’m willing to let go because I know how busy you are?”

“y/n…”

“Have you ever stopped for just a moment to think about how living in an empty house may make me feel? I wake up to an empty bed nearly every day, I come home from work to an empty house.”

you shake your head sadly. “If I’ve had a bad day at work I can’t even bring myself to voice my feelings because I know just how exhausted you are the moment you walk through that door. It hurts every time you ignore the dinner I’ve prepared and head straight to bed without even saying hello.”

“Three days Osamu.”

He looked at you confused “Three days?”

You chucked sadly, “that’s the longest we’ve gone without speaking, three whole days of living with what felt like a stranger rather than a boyfriend.”

Tears started to flood your eyes and you had to force yourself to continue. “Believe me when I say that I know more than anyone, how important this is to you. It is why I haven’t said anything up until this point. So forgive me if I decide that I want to spend some time out with a friend.”

With that you turned on your heel and made your way to your bed room, slamming the door behind you. Your breath sped up as the darkness of the room enveloped you and you barely made it to the bed before you found yourself collapsing into a pool of tears.

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, angry at him for being angry at you, sad because it felt like he would never understand, even more sad because you felt like you were losing him.

You knew that you had gone over what to expect when Osamu had started his business. You knew that it would be tough and taxing but you also knew that you could get through it.

At least you had hoped that you could get through it together rather than apart.

It was some time before the door creaked open. You buried your face into pillow in an attempt to hide your remaining sobs.

The bed dipped where he sat and there was a moment of quiet, filled only with your cries.

“I…” Osamu started. He sounded apprehensive, unsure of what to say in the moment. He sighed, “This isn’t the life that we talked about when we first started dating. I never wanted it to turn out this way, and for that I’m so sorry y/n.”

As he spoke, you willed yourself to sit up and sit in the edge of the bed beside him. Still refusing to look directly at him.

You missed the way he way he looked at you in remorse, too occupied with your own hands fiddling in your latp.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, “That I took my anger out on you, you don’t deserve that either. I just got stuck with this idea that you would always be home waiting for me. I got too comfortable with that. When I heard you had gone out with Atsumu without me…“

Osamu looked away in shame, “I guess I was just…jealous”

His words caused you to finally look at him in surprise, “Of your brother?”

he scoffed “I would’ve been jealous regardless of who it was. It’s just…I know I haven’t been able to spend as much time with you as I much as I want to. I know you’ve been wanting to go to that cafe among other places for a while now and the fact that I wasn’t able to take you there, it just made me mad. You told me about it first, I should’ve been the one”

“Osamu…”

“I guess it just reminded me that you are alone here because of how busy I am, and I turned the anger I was feeling towards myself to you instead. You are allowed to go out—no you shouldn’t need my permission to go out and do all the things you find fun.”

There was a pause before you spoke, “I know that you’re busy Osamu, you’re achieving your dream! I could never blame you for that.” another pause, “it’s just that I hope that now you can understand that there’s only so much alone time a person can take, and that I have another life outside of what happens in this apartment.

he sighed “I know.”

“I miss you ‘Samu.”

He smiled sadly at you, “I know y/n, I miss you too. So much.”

Without saying anything else, you crawled up beside him and wrapped your arms around him. He took the chance to pull you fully in his lap and hug you even tighter. He rested a cheek against the top of your head and the pleased sigh that followed made you smile.

“We have a bit to work out regarding our expectations of each other.” you lamented as you rubbed a hand up and down one of his arms.

He hummed in agreement, “I’ll be home tomorrow so we can talk each others ears off all day.” you softly laughed at his tease.

he continued, “and how about I schedule myself some time off and we can spend the entirety of next weekend together doing whatever you want.”

“I would really like that ‘Samu.”

He smiled and pulled you impossibly closer, as if you would disappear if he were to let go.

“We have to apologize to Atsumu first though.”

“if you insist,” Osamu groaned, “But for now, how about those snacks you told me about earlier?”

[punkcheeks34]

feelings/ pt 1

eren x reader, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, drunk confession

you knew eren before you knew him. his mom and your mom were the best of friends in highschool, and a friendship was fated from the start. from family barbecues to birthdays, you two were always together. “inseparable” is what carla describes us. eren always scoffed when mom would say we would get married one day. my eyes would brighten at the mention.

eren was always the outsider growing up, the rebel. he grew his hair to his shoulders, didn’t get along with the popular crowd, got an illegal tattoo at 16, and religiously wore band tees. as we got older, i noticed him more and more. we were around each other so often, so close. when his voice got deeper and his arms became toned, i couldn’t help fighting my feelings. to him, we were friends. to me, he was more. i knew he never saw me the way because he slept around. he smoked and wasn’t afraid to break a few laws. hes the personification of the boys your mom will tell you to watch out for, because their mystery is so alluring that you won’t be able to resist, and that in the end, they will break your heart. mom would never see eren in another light though. nothing other than her best friends adorable, sweet child.

as i’m about to fall asleep, my phone buzzes on my bedside table and reach for it quickly.

R u awake

it’s 2 in the morning and i know what he’s been doing.

what’s up eren?

i wait anxiously.

Im sorru it’s so latew but can u pick me up from Jean’s please?

i immediately get up and throw on a zip up hoodie. i grab my keys and hurry out of my window. god, the things i do for this boy.

the first time i felt something for him was 6th grade. for a while, he had been trying to slum it with the popular boys, reiner, jean, flock, and zeke, in our class. it didn’t work. he was a puzzle piece that didn’t fit, but he tried and i watched. i watched him try biking every day after-school with them when i knew he preferred to go skating with me. i watched him try to salvage his failing math grade from constantly attempting to meet the demands of these boys, their constant hangouts that eren didn’t really look forward too, telling me how unfunny he thought their jokes were. i watched eren and the popular boys talk to the popular girls. seeing eren laughing with historian reiss made me fume. who was she to even speak to him? she doesn’t know him like that? she doesn’t know him like i do!

it was all jealousy. historia was beautiful, popular, and i knew eren thought so too, because i would see them drinking slurpees at the quick zip every friday after school. i fumed even more. there were rumors that they had even kissed. stupid me thought and dreamed that maybe he secretly wanted me, and maybe he secretly wanted me to be his first kiss. hearing the rumor crushed me. i was heartbroken, but i could never be mad at eren over some dream that would never come true.

but suddenly eren withdrew. historia and him never hung out on fridays and the popular boys treated eren like he were a plague. jean still spoke to him though, even with their bitter rivalry that he would never tell me stemmed from what. me and him were already attached at the hip by that point, but he stuck by me like glue from then on. i didn’t question it. i didn’t care too because that he wanted to spend time with me, me.

we spent the rest of our middle school and high-school years together. always turning around to make sure the other one was behind. always picking the same classes to take so that we’d be together. always going back to my place after school, sitting on my bed to talk about everything the world has to offer over and over again. i would always help him with math, and he would always defend me against the popular guys that pursued me, warning me that he knew their motives. that they didn’t want me for the right reasons. i understood and i kept away. but they didn’t.

junior year, after our AP physics class, the ringleader of the group, zeke, cornered me in the stairwell and confessed how long he had been wanting me. how much he needed me, and that i should come over sometime with his friends. and from that, i already had an idea that this was what eren was talking about. i tried to get out, but he wouldn’t let me. eren pushed him to the wall and fought him. jean and armin had to pull eren off of him. eren got suspended because he broke zekes nose, and he had to get surgery to fix the damage.

during erens suspension, we spoke.

“i don’t like how the guys are,” he starts, fixing the pink pillow under his head,” they get me so fucking mad.” he’s been staying at my house ever since he got suspended. his parents are mad.

i look up from the book i was reading. “it was only zeke who really pushed it? why are you so pissed about the whole group?”

erens eyebrows furrow. “y/n, they’re guys. i’m a guy, and you’re not. i know how guys like them are!” he suddenly looks uncomfortable. “it’s disgusting.” he mutters, “and i don’t like that zeke wanted you to come over.”

“but still?” i argue, “just because you have something against zeke doesn’t mean you should hate the whole group with a passion. i know they’re obnoxious, but don’t let them get to you.”

“of course i have something against zeke and his friends! he forced you into the corner and told you how bad he wanted to fuck you!”

i cringe at the honesty. “i meant that you’ve hated him since middle school. like.. obsessively hate.”

eren lets out a laugh at the idiocracy. “first of all, i am not obsessed with zeke fritz.” he takes a deep breath like he’s preparing for the finale of a grand speech. “and second of all, he’s always pissed me off.”

“even when you hung out with him and his friends?” i tease.

eren grows silent. “i don’t want to talk about it.” and i dropped the conversation.

i pull into the round-about where jean lives. i’ve had to pick eren up a few times from here, but lately, the only reason he’s been here is to get drunk at jeans college parties. jeans parents are loaded, lawyers who travel for work, which leaves him at home with way too much freedom.

the music is vibrating the ground from here. i wonder when the police are gonna show up to shut down this party for the noise disturbance. i need to find eren, soon. i open the front door and see people leaning on the walls with drinks, talking, joking, some making out. i look away and try to find eren. i don’t see him anywhere.

after scanning the entire first floor, eren jeager is no where to be found. i head towards the stairs and start walking up, hoping to find him upstairs.

where are you? i text.

as i’m walking down the hallway, i hear a familiar voice.

“In here!”

i walk toward the sound of his voice, the last door of the hallway that has the name “jean” written in bright blue letters. i open the door and see the unexpected.

well, not fully unexpected. i see eren, his almost- shoulder length hair pulled back into a bun and his body adorning grey sweatpants and a navy hoodie, who i was expecting to see, laying down on jeans bed, smiling at the ceiling like a weirdo. yep, he’s one drink away from blacking out. but what i didn’t expect to see was historia reiss, sitting at the end of the bed, picking at her split ends and chewing her gum with her mouth open. my stomach turns at the scene, but i force down my feelings.

“hey!” i say. historia turns to me with a look of disappointment on her face and eren lifts his head and laughs drunkly when he sees me.

“uh,” i suddenly become uncomfortable under historias arrogant stare, “sorry i didn’t knock, i’m here to get eren.”

she looks at eren and then looks at me, saying, “okay..” condescendingly and walks into jeans bathroom. she wasn’t wearing any shoes. erens not wearing any either.

“heyyyy,” eren slurs as i walk over to him. “i didn’t know you partied!” he jokes before bursting out laughing

“you texted me. how much did you have to drink?”

he looks dumbfounded at the simple question “what?”

“i said, how much did you have to drink?” i repeat. i can barely hear my own voice over the booming music.

“uhhhhh-,” he replies after a few seconds, “i don’t know.”

“okay, cmon. get up eren. we’re going.”

“yes ma’am.” he says, giving a military salute. surprisingly, he can stand just fine despite how drunk he seems. i make sure he has everything

and we leave jeans house. we walk over to my parked car and i put eren in the backseat incase he pukes all over my dashboard again. i don’t want a repeat of the last time i picked him up.

“there’s a plastic bag in the right pocket if you need to puke, eren, just letting you know.” i mention as i pull out of the round-a- bout.

“okay, mom, thanks” he scoffs.

i pull unto the main road, stopping at the red light.

“so,” i start,” historia, huh?” my voice filling the silence.

“huh, what’re you talking about?” he says in a genuine, drunk confusion. “did something happen”

“i just didn’t know you guys were really friends.” i reply. and i murmur, “obviously more than that though.”

you’re eyes are fixed on the road, but erens eyes are dead fixed on you after that snide comment that he definitely heard.

“yeah,” he rolls his eyes, sarcasm and the presence of alcohol in his tone, “we had so much fun, y/n. you don’t even know.”

i look at him through the dash cam window and he’s staring at me with a smirk and an indepipherable look in his eyes, testing me. i grip the stealing wheel and drive faster. i know he’s joking, but i can’t tell if he’s hinting at the truth or just telling a lie to get a reaction out of me.i just want this conversation i started to be over with.

“uh, so, how’s jean?” i change the conversation.

“what, you like him or something?”

“what! no!” i deny. “i never said that, eren?”

eren leans back into the seat, head resting on the head rest as he looks up. “whatever.”

unlike eren, there’s no alcohol in my system, but i’m feeling bold today. “what do you mean whatever, eren? you think i like jean?”

“uhhh, haven’t you always?” he states like it’s the obvious. “i saw the way he looked at you in art class.”

“just because he looked at me once or twice doesn’t mean i want him to fuck me or something.”

erens eyes narrow and his brows furrow, lifting his head in interest. “what the fuck did you just say?”

“what the fuck are you saying?” i fight back. “i ask you how jean is and you act like i’m begging on my knees for him. god damn.”

now he’s fully attentive, elbows on his knees and leaning in as if he’ll learn more by his upright posture. “i don’t like the idea of you liking jean,” he states, the slurring of his words still audible , “aaand i don’t like the idea of jean liking you.”

my heart races. “why?”

“maybe it’s the same reason you don’t like seeing me with historia.” and suddenly, he sounds sober.

my heart stops. he heard the comment i made under my breath.

“eren, i don’t care who you see.” the lie is evident in my tone, but eren is so drunk that i don’t bother to hide it. “you can hook up with historia for all i care. have fun with mouth herpes.”

“see, this is what i don’t like,” he slurs out, “did it really not bother you when you saw me and historia in the same bed?”

“why would it bother me? we’re just friends.”

“is that what you want to believe?”

“is that what i shouldn’t believe, eren?”

eren sighs and leans back again. “you remember when i hung out with zeke, flock, reiner, and jean like way back?”

“yeah.”

“that entire time. all they talked about is who would get you first. who would be the first to- fuck. fuck!” he slurs “i never wanted to tell you that!”

my mouth is to the floor. “seriously? that is so- why woudlnt you tell me?”

he looks out the window, “because i was scared that if i told you they liked you, you’d like the attention and shit, and then you wouldn’t be mine.”

my heart is beating out of my chest. “my god, you’re so drunk. eren, you’re speaking nonesense.”

“i’ve been in love with you since the 6th grade.”

“eren, stop.” tears brim my eyes. in the morning, when he’s sober and remembers this, he’ll regret his drunken lies and i’ll have to pretend like this drunk, fake confession didn’t mean the world to me.

“i left the digusting group for that. i hated that me and those annoying dogs had something in common, wanting you.”

“you never wanted me, eren!” i snap, “ you would fake a gag every time our moms shipped us together! and what about historia, huh? don’t act like you two haven’t been sleeping together since highschool. oh, and what about mikasa? you and her-”

“i don’t care about them! all i want is you y/n! i thought you already knew how bad i had it for you” he cuts me off.

“fucking lies.”

he grows quiet for a while.

“i pretended they were you everytime,” he admits,” they didn’t turn me on. i had to pretend they were you, ” he leans in, “and honestly? i still do.”

his words send butteflies rushing to your stomach, but you know better. “eren. you’re drunk”

he pulls his hair out of his messy bun and puts his hood on. “drunken. words. are sober. thoughts!” he enunciates before laughing.

we pull into his house driveway.

“i’m sorry for teasing you about me and historia tonight.” he apologies, and i smell beer from his breath. “im really sorry.”

“i thought drunk words were sober thoughts?” you retaliate with hurt in your tone. you didn’t want to argue, but you didn’t want to not stand your ground.

“i just- wanted to make you jealous. im sorry, y/n” he hugs me, arms wrapping around me tightly as he fits his head into the crook of my neck and sniffs. “god, you smell so good..”

“eren.” you warn.

“your perfume. it drives me insane.” he whines and starts peppering kisses down your neck.

you blush and your heart stops before you push him off of you. he stumbles back, having to regain his balance due to the alchohal in his system. he’s drunk, he’s drunk and he’s so fucking drunk.

the look in his eyes are nothing short of hurt. “y/n..”

“we’ll talk in the morning” you breath out. “go sleep this off.”

“i’ve already tried,” he replies as he walks up the stairs to his room, “why do you think i get so drunk all the damn time. seeing historias face sober every weekend makes me remember that she isn’t you.” he gets to the top step and disappears behind the wall.

[melswifeasf]

Can I please request Sam Carpenter x femreader

Sam and the reader were super close before Sam left Woodsboro for five years, Sam tried to talk and apologize to the reader, but reader keeps her distance from the older Carpenter girl. The two eventually reconnect at the end of scream V, reader goes to NY with Sam and Sam kisses Reader in the lobby instead of Danny.

In secret

Fandom: Scream

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

summary: you’ve been in love with Sam for as long as you can remember. the sad part? you could never tell her that.

Words: 4535

Warnings: kind of bad writing because this is my first time writing in second pov. kinda angsty but fluffy at the end. mentions of injury and blood.

Notes: thanks for the request! im not sure if i got carried away but i hope this was kind of what you wanted to see! pls keep the requests coming, i love writing for Sam. thinking about writing smut next, pls send requests if you have any:)

(not proofread)

living in Woodsboro your whole life had never been your plan. you always planned to leave as soon as you finished high school, get into a good college - or any college, really as long as it was out of California. the plan had been made with your once best friend, Sam Carpenter, she wanted similar things as you. the two of you had been best friends since middle school, having been in the same classes and you both shared the pain of losing one of your parents.

you had lost your mother to cancer and you might as well had lost your dad as well, he hadn’t gone a single day sober since the moment her heart monitor flat lined.

Sam had been the one to help you through it all, inviting you to her house almost every day so you wouldn’t have to go home to a drunk dad who would cry as soon as he saw you considering you were the spitting image of your mother. she was your best friend.. even if you were in love with her since the moment you landed eyes on her, as long as she was by your side you had accepted only being her best friend.

you knew about her dad and why he had left, although she never told you who her biological father was, she had told you about why her dad had left and how, much like your dad, her mom drowned herself in alcohol. she wasn’t around much though, spending most weeks away on business trips and leaving Sam with a debit card so she could buy whatever it is she and Tara needed.

you were both damaged but maybe that was what brought you two closer. it was in your junior year that you two decided to go to the same college, hopefully dorm together and leave your lives in Woodsboro behind. you made sure to help her with her grades even while she was in trouble with the law and taking any drugs she could afford. you stuck with her through all of it, how could you not? she was the girl of your dreams and you’d do anything for her.

you quickly realized the sentiment was not returned. the morning of Sams eighteenth birthday you had gone to her house to celebrate with her. you had gotten her chocolate chip pancakes and a smoothie, her favorite breakfast but when you arrived all you saw was a crying Tara and her mother with a ghost of a smile on her lips. Sam had left. without you. your plan to leave together had worked for her, she just didn’t leave with you. she left alone and she left you behind to deal with your own pain alone.

you hated Sam from that day on. maybe you were pathetic for not leaving, maybe it was stupid that you relied on another person so much but the only reason you wanted to leave Woodsboro was if you got to leave with her. otherwise there was no point, you’d be just as lonely as you are now, possibly even more.

so you stayed. settled as a real estate agent, you were liked by most in the town considering who your mom was so it was easy.

yet it wasn’t.

Sam left you behind but she took away a piece of your heart, a piece you needed to be happy again.

you tried dating, went on a couple of dates with a cute blonde and it worked for about a year until it didn’t. she was nice and practically the perfect girl but she wasn’t Sam. she wasn’t the girl who would hold your hand during class because you would get anxious around so many people, she wasn’t the girl would know how to hold you at night so you wouldn’t feel smothered but still feel safe. she didn’t know how you liked your coffee or what your favorite flowers were.

she just wasn’t Sam Carpenter and you loathed that.

you just wanted to move on with your life, be happy with someone else because you knew you’d never get her back.

but you were wrong yet again.

Tara was attacked by a ghostface, you had heard about it from Mindy and Chad. you still kept in touch with the group, having been there when Sam would babysit them. Tara had been the one to keep in touch with you from the beginning, she had told you that you were always welcome in her home even if Sam had left. you never took her up on that offer but that didn’t mean you didn’t make conversation with them if you saw them out in public.

the distinctive smell of bleach and latex made you sigh as you sipped on your coffee. you had gone to the hospital to check on Tara but once her friends were there you decided to step out and give them some space, you didn’t want to be the one adult in the room that made them all filter their words.

you didn’t want to leave yet, not until you told Tara that you were there for whatever she needed. maybe you should have left though.

a familiar girl with dark brown eyes and dark hair approached you in the waiting area. she was the same and yet different, her once completely black hair now had highlights and she seemed to dress differently now, her number jackets and boots long gone as she had on a simple green jacket.

Sam looked shocked at first, her eyes wide as she took in your body once, twice and finally they settled on your face.

you’re sure she thought the same about you, the once timid and shy girl long gone.

“y/n..” she whispered and took a step closer.

“hey” you said curtly as you refrained yourself from taking a step back.

“i-..” Sam spoke but cut herself off seemingly speechless. you almost chuckled.

“it’s fine, Sam. i should go” you said beginning to turn around so you can leave but a hand on your arm stopped you from doing so.

“wait. please.” there was a certain desperation in her voice you had never heard from her that made your heart rate pick up and a lump to form in your throat.

you sighed as you turned back toward her, you raised a brow to signal for her to continue with whatever it is she wanted.

“im sorry, y/n. i really am, i didn’t mean to hurt you” the girl said softly and her eyes were beginning to shine but you didn’t care.

“like i said. it’s fine. i really need to go though” you said not giving her a second to respond or even react as you turned back around and began walking away.

-

the sound of the news channel was in the background of your kitchen as you made yourself dinner. it had been a day since you saw Sam and you hadn’t spoken to Tara or anyone else since.

Mindy and Chad had been texting you updates but you hadn’t responded to any of them. it’s not that you didn’t care because truthfully you cared for those girls with everything in you but you couldn’t face Sam. besides, there was nothing you could do to help them other than drag them down, you would just be putting yourself in danger and having to add to their worries.

the smell of tomato sauce filled your sense as you mixed it, the pasta was already cooked and sitting in the strainer as you finished heating up the sauce. you weren’t very hungry but you also didn’t want to go to bed on an empty stomach.

as you continued to stir the food a faint crash echoed throughout the house. you stopped, you head snapping up with furrowed eyebrows. you kitchen was facing straight to the living room but it was empty, the only noise coming from it being the television that was still on.

you frowned as you reached for the remote and began turning the volume down. you stayed frozen for a second but it remained silent. you rolled your eyes, it was most likely just in your head. you didn’t turn the volume back up but you remained stirring the pot, once you thought it was enough you turned the stove off and moved the pot to the side.

as you moved to grab a plate to serve yourself, a sudden hand grabbing you by the hair made you instinctively grab onto them. you began to panic, your heart beating so fast you could quite literally hear it. you tried to wiggle out of their grip but they were too strong.

“let me go!” you yelled as you tried to kick them but you were doing so blindly and every time your foot connected with their leg, it didn’t make a difference. suddenly they let you go, throwing you onto the floor in the process. you breathed shakily as you turned to see who the hell was in your house but instead of being met with another person you were met with the sight of fucking ghostface.

your eyes widened and you slowly moved away from them as you tried to remember where you left the big knife. shit, it was in the sink.

ghostface tiled their head to the side, waiting for some kind of reaction from you. you couldn’t find a way out of this, if you moved he’d kill you but if you didn’t he’d still kill you. you took in a huge breath and looked down at his legs, without a second for regret you brought your foot down onto his leg as hard as possible and stood as he bent down to hold it.

you quickly moved to the sink where you expected to see the kitchen knife but it wasn’t there. tears began to form in your eyes causing them to blur and you were petrified. there was no way out of this, your phone was charging in your room and you didn’t own a gun or any sort of weapon that could help you.

a sudden sharp and dull pain on your back made a scream ripple from your throat. the blade entered you for a second time near your shoulder before you turned around. you tried to kick them once more but they swiftly grabbed your leg and stabbed you on your thigh making you cry out in pain.

your body fell to the floor as you clutched your leg in pain. there was blood. so much fucking blood and it was coating your hands making you begin to hyperventilate. ghostface lifted his knife about to strike you again and you coward down as you held your hand up. you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of pleading for your life so you didn’t, instead you swallowed your tears as you waited for the knife to enter your body one last time.

but it never did as your front door swung open to reveal Sam Carpenter in all her glory with Dewey behind her, he shot twice hitting ghostface before he ran away. Dewey quickly went after him whilst Sam rushed toward you. she bent down and held your leg to try and stop the blood.

“i think i’m dying” you said with a slight laugh, you were losing too much blood and you were starting to feel light headed. you wouldn’t be able to hold on much for longer.

“no, no you’re not. the ambulance is coming, okay? your gonna be okay” Sam said quickly trying her best to reassure you but you shook your head a small sob escaping your lips.

“it hurts so much” you cried as you felt your back gushing blood.

Sam had tears in her own eyes and her lip was trembling. you couldn’t make out her hand but you felt it shaking against your leg as she applied pressure to it.

“i love you, y/n. okay? you don’t get to leave me because i fucking love you and i can’t lose you. not now” Sam cried and shook her head.

you attempted to laugh but instead your body felt as if it were running out of oxygen as you coughed. you could make out the taste of blood in your mouth and knew it was over.

“five years too late, Sam” you attempted to joke but the look on Sams face made you realize your words hurt her even more. you frowned, “i love you too” you confessed softly, your hand reached for the girls face but you realized how much blood was on it so you stopped yourself.

Sam shook her head, “im so sorry. i’m so fucking sorry for leaving. i should’ve taken you with me, i should’ve given you the option to come. i..” but her words were slowly fading, just like your conscious.

-

a faint beeping noise lulled you awake. your mind was foggy and you could make out the distinct smell of bleach and latex. you were at the hospital.

you could feel a hand on your own stopping you from moving it and you could feel an oxygen mask on you. it took you a second to be able to open your eyes, they felt heavy and parts of your body felt sore. there wasn’t pain necessarily - although you assumed you were pumped full of drugs so the pain was pretty minimal to what you should be feeling.

slowly your eyes fluttered open. it was blurry at first but they steadily cleared and you looked at the weight on your hand.

Sam.

she had her head laying on the bed with her hand securely holding yours. she was in a hospital gown herself causing a worry to fill in the pit of your stomach.

“Sam” you said and squeezed her hand in order to wake the girl up. she did so after a couple of seconds, she lifted her head her eyes filled with sleep until she realized you were awake and she quickly wiped the sleep away.

“y/n. how are you feeling? are you okay?” she asked quickly moving closer to you. she looked exhausted, her eyes had huge dark circles under them and they were slightly red. you weren’t sure if that was from crying or just plain exhaustion.

“im okay” you said with a gentle smile, a wave of relief washed over Sam. she was still holding your hand tightly almost as if she were to let go you would slip away. “but what happened to you?” you quickly asked with furrowed brows.

Sam sighed softly, “ghostface attacked Tara and i. turns out the love interest always is the killer” she chuckles.

your eyes widened, “so your boyfriend..?” she nodded.

“him and Amber. he lured us to the house and well..” she trailed off motioning to her body. you shook your head, you never thought it would be Amber. you never really stopped to think who it could be but you definitely didn’t think it was Amber.

“how’s Tara?” you knew how close her and Amber were and you can’t begin to imagine how she must be feeling.

“she’s okay” Sam nodded, “she’s resting now. Chad and Mindy were attacked too but they are recovering as well” she said.

a soft sigh escaped your lips. this was all so fucked, they were all still kids and they didn’t deserve to be dealing with this bullshit. especially not from their own friend.

“what about you?” you asked worriedly looking at her body for a sign of where she had been hurt.

Sam smiled gently and waved you off, “i’m fine. just a stab wound” she said as if it were no big deal.

“Sam, what the hell. that’s not nothing, are you okay? where was it?” you hurriedly asked and began to sit up but quickly winced at the pain in your back.

Sam stood up immediately and held you down, “stop. don’t do that. the doctors said he didn’t hit any major arteries but you still need to take it easy.” she said making you nod.

until you remembered about your leg, you quickly removed the blanket to reveal it bandaged up, you lifted it slightly and let out a sigh of relief.

“your legs fine too. you’ll probably just need a bit of therapy” Sam said and grabbed the blanket to put it back over your lap.

a fluttery feeling spread across your chest, Sam was here. she was here and taking care of you when she was probably in pain as well. you shook your head with a soft smile and moved your body slightly to give her room. “lay down. being stabbed isnt for the weak” you joked earning a low chuckle from the older Carpenter girl. she listened to your words and laid on her side so she was facing you.

it was silent for a second, the only thing that could be heard was your heart monitor and the faint chatter from outside the room.

you had almost forgotten how beautiful Sam was. although you feel stupid for thinking that considering she had always been the most beautiful girl you’d have ever met. even after five years she still had the power to pull a smile on your lips with just her presence. she still gave you butterflies and that damn giddy feeling in the pit of your stomach. she was the only one who could make you smile even though you went through something so traumatic.

“can i ask you a question?” you said lowly. Sam nodded. “why did he come after me? i just mean.. i’m not really a part of your lives. maybe Tara’s life but i’m not really a part of the group or anything” you said slightly confused. besides, it’s not like you were related to any of the original ghostface victims.

Sam glanced down at your hands that were playing with her hair. she was nervous. you could tell by the way she wouldn’t meet your eye and the way her breathing began to grow heavier.

“i told Richie about you when i first met him. he had asked me if i had ever dated anyone and even though i hadn’t.. i said i dated you” she shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal.

you couldn’t help but smile, “why?”

Sam finally looked at you, “i don’t know” she shrugged again, “i always had a crush on you and we were so close that it almost felt like we were together” she continued.

she was playing it down but you could tell everything she was saying meant a lot to her.

god you felt stupid. this whole time you thought your love was one sided, you thought you were the helpless lesbian in love with her straight best friend when this whole time her feelings were recuperated.

Sam seemed to take your silence for being uncomfortable as she spoke again, “i’m sorry.” she shook her head and looked back down at your hand. “that was stupid. i shouldn’t have, we were best friends and i-”

you placed your hand under her chin and leaned forward to press your lips against hers in a soft kiss.

it was everything. the fireworks, the explosion of butterflies, the feeling of coming home.

it all made you smile and your teeth hit Sams causing you both to pull away with a slight giggle.

“i loved you too by the way. i thought you were straight so i just never told you” you said making Sam snort out a laugh.

“you thought i was straight? are you serious? do you know how many times Tara called me out for checking you out?!” she exclaimed making your eyebrows raise.

“oh? you were checking me out miss Carpenter?”

Sam rolled her eyes not able to control the smile on her lips, “whatever. i have no shame in it, you were hot” she shrugged making you laugh again.

“you weren’t alone in that”

you both fall silent, your hands intertwined in the middle of your bodies. this was weird, after five years of being alone you now had the girl of your dreams. it was surreal and almost didn’t feel real but Sams touch was grounding you. this was real. she was real and she loved you. just as much as you loved her.

Sam bit her lip nervously, “i’m sorry for leaving you. i never meant to hurt you. i thought that by leaving i’d be protecting you and Tara but i was obviously wrong” the girl said in a low voice. her eyes were lowered and you felt your chest tighten at the sight.

“Sam. stop. i understand now, maybe i didn’t before but i do now. although i don’t get why this all happened” you confessed a little confused.

at your words Sams head snapped up to look at you, “you don’t know?”

“know what?”

“well..”

-

one year later

never in your life did you think you’d be here. in New York dating the girl you’ve been hopelessly in love with and living with her and her sister. even when you were still friends, you never thought being together would ever be a possibility.

funny how that sounded now.

Sam had asked you out on a date a week after you were released from the hospital and it went great. it was as if she never left and there wasn’t a five year gap since you last saw each other. even though you were both different in some ways, having grown and matured into adults, you still complimented one another in all the best ways.

two months later Sam and Tara decided to move to New York and Sam had asked you if you wanted to go with them. she didn’t want to lose you and the difference between New York and California was too much. of course you accepted. there wasn’t anything keeping you in Woodsboro anyway.

the three of you moved into a three room apartment, you and Sam shared a room and you put up an anonymous flyer for a fourth roommate. that’s how you met Quinn. she was… interesting to say the least.

things were going great, Tara was going to school and although she wasn’t dealing with her shit as well as she should be, she was doing well for everything she went through. Sam pushed her to open up a lot but you tried to convince your girlfriend to give her space, she’d open up when she felt ready.

Sam was going to therapy, even though it wasn’t easy. you had to do a lot of convincing for that to happen.

Chad and Mindy were attending school as well and they were all as close as ever.

you still did real estate but you decided to go to school and major in something that had to do with law. you still had ptsd just like everyone else and maybe that was what pulled you toward the law side of school. either way it felt like the only way to be able to protect yourself and the people you love.

much like other Friday nights you spent it on the couch finishing up some last minute studying. Sam had therapy until a little later and considering the weekends were the only time you could spend time together, you tried to study whenever Sam was busy.

but your plans to make dinner with Tara to spend quality time together did not go according to plan. Tara had gone out with Chad and Mindy to a frat party, originally she had told you Sam was cool with it so you didn’t find a reason to alert your girlfriend about her whereabouts. turns out teenage girls lie quite a lot.

once it slipped out from Quinn, Sam grabbed your arm and pulled you with her to get Tara.

you didn’t care to protest, you found angry Sam hot so you simply followed the girl around. thank god you did considering you got to witness her tase a guy in.. his most intimate area.

you simply followed along even whilst Tara stormed away angrily and had to listen to her bash your girlfriend for simply worrying. you didn’t step in though, it wasn’t your place and you were well aware of that. you and Sam had only been together for a couple of months and although you were a part of Tara’s life for years now, it just didn’t seem right.

but that did not mean you didn’t step in when some bitch spilled her drink on Sam. you immediately pushed the girl back, about to swing a punch but Chad held you back making you even more mad.

now people were bringing their stupid conspiracy theories into the mix and Sam had been on the receiving end from a lot of people’s anger.

you sighed softly as you slowly walked down the steps. Sam was sitting on the last step with her face buried in her hands. you were silent until you were standing in front of her.

“hey” you said gently making her look up. you smiled sadly, “i’m sorry baby.” you whispered and reached for her hand. Sam shook her head.

“im so tired of this” she confessed with a tone of exhaustion in her voice. you understood what she meant completely.

“i know but we’ll get through this. we have to” you said. maybe you weren’t the best at comforting people but you weren’t sure what else you could really say. nothing you said could change the way other people viewed Sam or how Tara was simply acting like a teenager. “what can i do?” you asked as Sam began to stand. she shook her head, a detectable look in her eyes that you knew all too well.

you felt her hands on your waist and she slowly walked you backwards until your back hit the wall. “oh?” you chuckled amused.

Sam only smiled as she leaned in to press her lips against your own. you let the kiss happen, happily accepting her tongue in your mouth as you placed your hands on your girlfriends waist. she was desperate and you could feel her grip on your waist slowly tighten.

you sighed blissfully into the kiss, her soft lips moving hungrily against your own. but the more the kiss continued the more light headed you were becoming so you pulled away, her chest heaving.

“you smell like cherry coke” you said as your forehead was placed against Sams. you felt her body shake as she laughed and pulled away from your touch.

“you don’t like it?”

“oh no” you waved her off. “i love it. better than any perfume you own” she laughed with a shake of her head.

the sound was like music to your ears and it was your favorite noise in the world. a smile tugged at your lips. “i love you, Sam. i’ll be here with you every step of the way. okay?”

“okay” she confirmed softly.

and you were. from that day on you kept your promise.

[charmedreincarnation]

Success Story Using Your States Challenge 🎉

Hello Maya! I've got to confess, I used to despise the concept of states. It made it seem to me like bloggers were simply being lazy and deceiving us because at first, it made zero sense. If I could just choose to embody any state, then why was my life in shambles? Why was I poor, why was I abused?unattractive, and suffering? When did I choose to embody these states?

But then it hit me! Whether consciously or subconsciously, whether due to coincidence or purposeful, whether knowingly or ignorantly, I realized that if I wanted to manifest my dream life, I had to take accountability for the negative aspects as well. That's the law of reversibility. It was a bitter pill to swallow initially because I've been through some really tough shit experiences that I wouldn't wish upon anyone.

It wasn't my fault, but I kept replaying those old stories, and reliving them hence creating my reality . But I learned that I could use this to my advantage. I could replace the old story with a new one that fulfilled me.

I started making choices aligned with my dream life. Every time I encountered something from the old story, I chose to perceive it differently. Working with an abusive manager? Odd, because in my state, I'm a trust fund baby. Seeing an unattractive reflection in the mirror? Confusing, because I have a social media following based on my looks alone bc of pretty privilege. My bank account nearing zero? Must be an error, because I have millions in savings and investments.

I strongly recommend checking out these posts for additional insights:

Pink's post on overcoming doubt

Angel's advice on states

Bambi's tips on manifesting under unfavorable circumstances

Maya's post on time

Since embracing this mindset, I've manifested so much! Like literally waking up with a whole new life. I've moved to LA, gained a large social media following (100k on Instagram, 200k on YouTube, and 1 million on TikTok), and now live in a beautiful house in Beverly Hills. I attend a prestigious private high school with other celebrity kids. My dad (revised) is retiring from the NFL, and my mom is a successful interior designer.

I've also manifested my dream body (Alexis ren), dream face (I am so pretty it’s not even fair) dream cars (Lamborghini Urus, Tesla Model X, and Porsche 911 GT3), an enviable closet and room, a loyal friend group, and much more. My list was about 100 pages long, very specific, and yet my life turned out even better than I could have imagined!

Thank you so much and Happy New Year! 💋

I am very happy for you! I’m glad you kept reaching for your dreams and inspiring yourself and thank you for inspiring others 🤍🕊️✨Honestly I forgot what state challenge you’re talking abt bc I genuinely lowkey don’t remember making that post… like who knows where my mind was but regardless wishing you a lifetime of happiness and success! So glad I could help

[navybrat817]

A Sunny Outlook

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: After everything Andy has been through, his outlook on life is a bit jaded. Until you show up. Word Count: Almost 1.3k Warnings: Defending Jacob spoilers/Mix of canon and canon divergent (talk of divorce, child death), slight angst, opposites attract, future smut and feels (it's me), Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Tenth and final day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to new couple, Grumpy and Sunny! Set in the same AU as Hottie and Sugar, I mixed up my list a bit and plan to share Thorn and Rose at a later date. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Andy edit by the beautiful @randomagnes0210. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If you would’ve told Andy Barber years ago that he’d be living his life today as a tattoo artist, he wouldn’t have believed you. He had his path carved out. Life didn’t care what people wanted though, no matter how hard they worked to get it.

“Um, Mr. Barber?” Jake called out to him from the desk.

"How many times have I told you to call me 'Andy'? For fuck's sake," Andy snapped.

"Sorry, Mr. Bar- Andy!"

Andy took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled. He didn't mean to snap at Jake. He was a good guy. One of the nicest around. It wasn't his fault he was in a bad mood.

Which was his mood most days.

"No, I'm sorry," he said.

He wasn’t always a jaded man. Though his dad had been in jail his entire life, he thankfully had a good childhood overall. It helped set him on his path to become a lawyer, as he wanted to help others. He also made a promise to himself to be a good father if that day would ever come. He thought he had that chance to make that dream a reality with his college sweetheart, Laurie.

As a lawyer, he enjoyed his work. It challenged him and helped him grow. It was also stressful depending on the case. Long hours and seeing some people at their worst didn’t always leave him in the best headspace. But he had his wife and they had their son, Jacob.

Life was good.

Until his world got a little darker.

“This isn’t working, Laurie.”

“No, it isn’t."

Andy couldn’t put his finger on why and he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that Laurie was on the same page. Love took a lot of work and sometimes it wasn’t enough to make a marriage last. Not that they didn’t give it a try. They met with a counselor. Neither of them stepped out on each other. They wanted desperately to make it work for their kid.

But the loss of their son solidified the end of their marriage.

“Andy, I know you blame me.”

The thing is Andy didn’t put that on her. It was the bad weather that caused her to spin out of control. But she carried guilt for fighting with their son before the crash. It was something she couldn’t let go of.

The divorce was as ammicable as it could be, but it didn’t stop him from feeling like a failure. Work couldn’t distract him either. How was he expected to help people, some who were not even innocent, when he couldn’t help himself?

Tears filled his eyes as he sat in his empty house, trying to figure out what the hell was he supposed to do with his life. He didn’t want to go back into the office. He also didn’t want to drink himself to death. In a drunken stupor he called an old friend of his.

Steve Rogers.

One of the most honorable men Andy had the pleasure of knowing. While he went off to law school, Steve joined the army. The last he heard, he became a tattoo artist with another friend and army buddy, Bucky Barnes. He felt like an ass calling when he hadn’t reached out in so long, but the inebriated part of his brain didn’t process that.

“I don’t know what to do,” was all he said on the voicemail.

He woke up the next morning with a text message from Steve: “You any good at drawing?”

It was the beginning of his new chapter.

"You are never gonna get laid if you keep snapping at everyone," Hal winked as he walked by his chair.

"Get fucked," he said with only a hint of malice as Hal chuckled.

"I'm tryin'!"

"Give him a break," Steve said from his station, but he was smiling, too.

Like Jake, it was hard to get mad at a guy like Hal. A charming piercer who drifted from place to place before he met up with Steve and Bucky, he did some of the best work in the city. He was sure some came into the new shop just to hit on him.

"What is it, Jake?" he asked as he stood up and stretched.

"Your consultation is here about the sun tattoo," he explained, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. "Said she saw some of your work online."

Andy took another breath. He prided himself on the portfolio he built. It took him time to build and he didn't have as much clientele as Steve and Bucky, but he was slowly catching up. He was proud of the work he accomplished.

"Yeah, send her over," he said. He had a few minutes before his next appointment. "Thanks."

Jake rushed off before he could say another word, likely afraid he'd snap again. He'd have to apologize again later. He should've been happy. The opening of the shop went well. He liked his place in the city.

What the hell was his problem?

"Hi!"

Andy blinked when you stood in front of him. He wasn't used to seeing such a cheerful smile on someone’s face. Not directed at him, at least. He would've thought it was fake if not for the kindness in your eyes.

Ironic that you wanted a sun tattoo since he saw the world as much darker a long time ago.

Would the sun still shine in your eyes if I had you spread out under me?

Where the fuck did that thought come from?

He didn't lust after potential clients. He hadn't even done one night stand after Laurie. Why did seeing your happy, beautiful face make him want to change his mind?

Why did your smile get to him?

"Um, I can come back another time," you offered, as if you inconvenienced him by walking over.

The mere presence of you rendered Andy speechless until he remembered he had to speak.

"No, it's okay. Please, have a seat," he stood up to pull a chair over. "I'm Andy."

Your smile was back on your face as you gave him your name.

Beautiful, just like you.

"I just want to say real quick that I love your work,” you said as you took out your phone. “I can’t believe I was lucky enough to get in so quickly.”

"I appreciate that,” he said. The compliment meant a lot. “It’s a sun tattoo you want, right?"

“Yeah. My friends call me Sunny because I’m what they call a ‘big ball of sunshine’,” you explained.

“I can’t imagine why,” he deadpanned. You looked like you were trying to hold in a laugh as you set your phone down. “Something funny?”

“Do people tell you that you’re grumpy?” you asked curiously. "Or is it a requirement that at least half of the staff here have to look intimidating?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he wasn’t the least bit offended. “People tell me almost every day."

“I can’t imagine why,” you echoed with a smile.

"And if only half of us look intimidating, then we aren't doing our job."

“Don't worry. I won't tell," you mock whispered.

He actually smiled back at you before he frowned and cleared his throat. He refused to let you consume his thoughts, even if your bright aura began to chip away at his tough exterior. “Then why don’t you tell me more about your tattoo.”

He listened intently as you explained the kind of sun design you wanted and where. He had a feeling by the time he finished your consultation, he'd be in a much better mood. Even if he didn’t want to be. And your tattoo would be his best work yet.

Andy's world may be a bit brighter thanks to you. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[dixons-sunshine]

Seizing for a part two of young!daryl head cannons omg😩

Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU Headcannons Part Two | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Word count: 853.

A/n: Here's a part two of my personal headcannons while I mentally prepare myself for the scene I'm about to write in my newest fic. Hope y'all like these!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

★ So it's quite common for us Daryl writers to have him call the reader "Sunshine", but I feel like it explains a lot about how he feels about you in this.

★ He definitely called you sunshine long before you actually got together. It's because Daryl sees his life as a bad thunderstorm, but you're the ray of sunshine that breaks through the devastating downpour.

★ Of all the things he loves the most about you, his favourite physical thing about you is your thighs. Whether you guys are watching movies on the couch and are cuddling, whether you're with him when he's driving, whether you guys are doing more... not-so-family-friendly activities, it doesn't matter. He loves gripping them. It's his absolute favourite.

★ Despite that, however, he's definitely a boob guy. He just can't hold them when you're in public, so your thighs share first place with them.

★ He definitely is also enamoured with your smile. It just makes his day so much better whenever he sees it.

★ He wanted to drop out of high school, but you talked him out of it—it wasn't easy, and you promised him that you'd support him either way, but he decided to stick it out and graduate.

★ In the first part, I mentioned that you and your mom lived with your grandparents until you were six. I definitely headcannon that your grandparents didn't love you and were deeply disappointed in your mom—they are really conservative and couldn't come to terms with the fact that their daughter got pregnant at 18.

★ They were abusive to you. Whether it was physically or mentally, that I'll let y'all decide for future fics.

★ Despite that, you remained positive. That was over a decade ago and you had refused a long time ago to allow them to be an anchor around your neck.

★ You talked to Daryl about them a while after you officially got together.

★ You told them about what they did and that made Daryl realise why you were so patient and caring with him. You understood.

★ On a more lighthearted note, Daryl has an unhealthy obsession with playing little pranks on you.

★ He's usually a serious guy, but with you, he allows himself to let loose. He plays pretty innocent pranks on you, like swapping your toothpaste out for mayonnaise. Never anything that could hurt you.

★ You always returned the favour, though, and that started many prank wars between the two of you.

★ Daryl isn't a great dancer, but sometimes he'll pull you into his arms and just sway with you, with or without music.

★ You absolutely loved it, even if you didn't understand why he did it.

★ “D, not that I'm complaining, but what's this about?”

★ “Jus' 'cause.” He never revealed more than that.

★ He would never tell you this, put he loved wearing face masks with you.

★ He kind of loved the way his skin felt afterwards. However, he loved how giggly you would get whenever he put up a "fight" and then finally agree to it.

★ He would always agree to it, but he allowed you to think you convinced him to change his mind. He'd let you have that just to see your radiant smile and hear your radiant laugh.

★ He lives for forehead kisses. Whether it's him giving them or receiving them from you, he doesn't care. He just loves them.

★ You and Daryl had both walked in on your mom being all lovey dovey with a man and teased her endlessly for it.

★ She always teased you and Daryl, so it was only fair to repay the favour, you had told her once.

★ She knew it was all in good fun, though, so she didn't scold you for it.

★ Your mom and Daryl are close. Not in a gross way, but in a familial way. She sees Daryl as her son-in-law.

★ She worked a lot of nightshirts at the bar and more often than not walked in the next morning to find you and Daryl acting all romantic in the kitchen.

★ Has she accidentally walked in on you and Daryl having sex? She would never tell...

★ She has met Daryl's father, as stated in the previous part, and absolutely hated the guy for what he was doing to Daryl.

★ She may or may not have been the reason why he had a flat tyre once and was late to something.

★ She had grown to heavily dislike her parents for how they treated her when she got pregnant with you. She vowed to herself that if you were to get pregnant at that age, she would never make you feel like you were worthless. She may have been a kid having a kid, but she loved you dearly and couldn't imagine her life without you.

★ She knew she wasn't always the best mom, but she tried her best and hoped she was doing okay.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Okay, so here's part two. I might make a part three?

[mvltisstuff]

911 fic - A fic of y/n begins like buck/Eddie begins please, but the reader is eddie’s sister 💗

angst, heartbreak, grief, fluff too if possible pls 🫶

thank you ❤️‍🩹

mr. rager - e.d

summary: request

eddie diaz x sister!reader

gif from @tawaifeddiediaz

a/n: i hope i included all the things you wanted in there, apologies if i missed anything 🩶 can we also appreciate kid cudi for a few mins thanks

ever since middle school, y/n was told about how much of a dream life she had. she had good friends, good style, she was pretty. she spent a lot of her time occupied with friends and out of the house to avoid the chaos and criticism.

she’d been the youngest of the diaz family, with two older sisters, adriana and sophia, and her older brother eddie. at home, she was just the little sister who was forced to live up to her siblings. when she wasn’t home, she was y/n and only y/n.

for as long as she could remember, it was her and eddie. when they were kids, they ran around the yard and had slumber parties in the basement. her sisters would be out with their own friends, sharing their time together. as time went on, eddie grew older. it’s natural, y/n knew. she dreaded the day that eddie would want to move on and stop hanging out with her.

then, eddie enlisted. y/n was immensely proud of him, but she then realized that she would be alone. her sisters wanted nothing to do with her, and her parents just put her to the side. y/n almost felt selfish for wanting eddie to come home, despite knowing all the good he had been doing.

eddie had been in the army for a few years, and that’s just how long it took y/n to adjust to life without him there. she didn’t know what to do with herself. she had no one at home who truly supported her. eddie came to all of her sports games, all of her award nights, every single thing that y/n was a part of, he was there. she prayed that her parents would come, to be proud of her and to cheer her on, but it seemed that everything she did was useless to them. it was impossible to form bonds with them. her sisters basically said they wouldn’t waste their time on her, and her parents didn’t have time for her.

the sneaking out started freshman year. the drinking with her friends and getting wasted pretty much every weekend continued for a while. her parents rarely even noticed her, so she didn’t think they’d care about any of that.

it wasn’t until her sister-in-law, shannon, got pregnant and had christopher that eddie came back. he instantly noticed y/n’s change. her style, personality, and she became a stranger. she held a lot of anger for him, somehow. he was the one person to look out for her, and then he just left again.

eddie was in the living room of their house, christopher and shannon sleeping in the other room. he had a bottle of beer and was watching a spanish show on the TV. he heard the footsteps that came from behind him, but y/n didn’t care if he heard. he wouldn’t say anything, he’s done enough by leaving her in hell already. it wasn’t his fault. she knows that, but some part of her broken self cannot realize that yet.

“hey, you’re up late,” eddie speaks first.

“so are you.”

“it’s midnight, where are you going?”

“out, edmundo.” the backpack on her shoulders was clanking, signaling that she very noticeably had stuff in there.

“why do you have all that? what the hell has gotten into you? sneaking out and drinking, wearing that?”

“this isn’t a new thing. besides, i’m like a ghost here anyway. with my friends, at least i get some type of attention. i’ll see you later,” she argues, trying to end the conversation.

“no, i cant let you go out now, y/n,” eddie replies, standing up and speaking louder.

“can you be quiet? it’s not like anyone would notice anyway.”

“y/n, this is so stupid, c’mon-“ he’s cut off by the sharp cries of christopher, sighing when he hears them.

“why don’t you go take care of your kid before you disappear again?” she asks, and turns around, quietly shutting the door and running to her friends car. her words secretly sting eddie. he had to support his family, and he had to finish his tour in afghanistan. he didn’t know leaving would cause so much tension between him and his baby sister, but it did and he didn’t know how to reverse it. eddie went back to the room, picking christopher up into his arms and looking at shannon, who was beginning to roll awake.

“is he ok?”

“yeah, yeah he’s alright.”

“are you ok?” she asks him, not taking her eyes off him.

“i don’t- i don’t know what happened to y/n. she’s changed so much and i missed all of it. and i don’t think it’s for the better.”

y/n arrives home from her friends house the next night to be confronted with her family at the table. “y/n, sit,” her father breaks the silence.

“papí, i have so much homework i need to get done-“

“maybe you could’ve done that instead of sneaking out,” he cuts through her sentence, ending it. y/n’s eyes immediately dart to eddie’s, not breaking the contact between them. “i don’t know what to do with you, y/n. what happened to the girl i knew?”

“what girl you knew? none of you ever attempted to spend time with me, so i found people who will. and you’re kissing up to someone who’s leaving tomorrow!”

“y/n, stop this now! your brother has to work,” her mom says.

“yeah, i know. i’m happier than i’ve been in months, months! no thanks to you guys, i might as well be invisible here!”

“what do you want us to do?” adriana remarks. “you’re not the center of the universe, y/n.”

“yeah, like grow up,” sophia comments, in her sisters footsteps. y/n forced back any tears of frustration she had, not letting them see her cry like a child. they missed everything important to her, they didn’t care.

it was finally graduation day. y/n was free of everything, and it was the marking of her adulthood. her family sat in the audience, and she looked at christopher who attempted his own sign. the words were unreadable, but y/n didn’t care. she had a plan and saved up a ton of money for school, and maybe even an apartment, eventually. she stayed for the summer, but left for los angeles in the fall.

she attended university of california in berkley, finally wishing to settle her life out of el paso. meanwhile, eddie had been having an internal battle with himself. shannon had left for her mother, leaving him with christopher. his parents begged him to give them chris, but he refused. the boy needs his father, and eddie would never, ever leave him again. he decided to go to los angeles for a job as a firefighter/paramedic. he knew y/n was there, and maybe he could find shannon too.

eddie and y/n had become strangers, almost. she moved away after school and barely spoke to her family. a direct cause of their treatment toward her. he missed her dearly, longing for the bond they had as children that had faded away. y/n wanted to see him again, but figured he was still disappointed in the person she was without him. she forgets that she was just a teenager. their brains are all hormonal and such, but the true reason was the abandonment she felt. she hadn’t been back to texas in years, content with her new life and friends she formed in california. it was completely different. she was in control of her life, not having to be under the spotlight of judgement every day.

after his shift one day, eddie was brought up by his motivation. he knew if he didn’t fix his relationship with his sister now, they never would be the same again. it’s such a fragile concept. one obstacle in a family can have a domino effect over everyone. so, he picked up his phone and pressed on her number, even if it was late. it rang for an uncomfortable amount of time, before her memorable voice came through again. he’d been stuck watching videos and tapes of the family out of fear to push her away even more, but he was relieved to her her voice live.

y/n sat in eddie’s kitchen on his day off with a cup of coffee in her hand. christopher had been out with buck for a while, so they could have a little bit of time alone. eddie sat down soon after across from her. he sighed, disappointed that he didn’t know where to begin. “so, what have you been up to? work, you know.”

“it’s been good, i’m working with some of the best in the field right now. i got promoted.”

“that’s great! you like it there?”

“i love it, i’m happier than ever right now,” she smiles and looks down.

“it’s been so long, i feel like we have too much to talk about.”

“i know, eddie,” she says. “but, how’s everyone at home?”

“they’re good, have you spoke to them?”

“not too much. just for the big milestones like weddings and babies.”

eddie pauses, thinking about whether or not he wants to mention the elephant in the room. “i never meant to put you in the dark, y/n.”

“eddie, it’s fine-“

“no, it’s not fine. i thought that they would care about you when i wasn’t there, but i didn’t realize how bad things were until i got back. i don’t know why they didn’t notice when you’d get back hungover as hell.”

“it sucked but-“

“i just think-“

“dude,” y/n speaks up, interrupting him while grinning. “you have to let me speak.”

“sorry, go on,” eddie laughs.

“it was awful not having you there. you’re the only one who gave a shit about me. i never got a ‘how are you doing’ or a real appreciation. and i tried so hard to get their affection and i don’t know what i did.”

“so you came here?”

“yeah. and i found what i needed. i get told thank you and get appreciated by people who’ve known me for a minute now. it took 18 years for me to get that from everyone else. i was crushed when you decided to leave, but i’m just proud of you now. and i was too blind to say that years ago,” y/n spills out about her life, and portrays everything to him to lay it out. it’s off her shoulders now, and eddie’s here. she can forget about it.

“i’m sorry, y/n. i’m never leaving again, and i never wanted anything more than to see you living the life you’ve always wanted.”

“stop,” y/n speaks abruptly.

“what?”

“you’re gonna make me cry, stop it!” she replies, trying to hide her watery eyes, but eddie’s smile is clear. it’s mocking, but in a beautiful way. “where’s my little guy?”

“he’s out with my best friend, buck. figured it would give us some time to talk,” eddie informs. “they’ll be back soon, if you wanna meet him.”

“i already know christopher, eddie. i haven’t been away that long.”

“no, buck,” eddie tells. “you’d get along, just a hello.” before eddie can keep ranting about buck and how he’s trying to set her up, the door swings open to reveal the brightest smile from christopher and the man behind him. christopher has always remembered y/n. no matter what she went through, she was there for him and he adored her. y/n decides to surprise him, moving into the doorway and hiding behind a wall.

“hi, dad!” christopher says, walking over to him.

“hey, buddy! i’ve got a surprise for you.”

“i love surprises,” christopher awaits what could be shown to him.

“your tía is here,” eddie says, in a singsongy voice as y/n steps out into the door.

“y/n!” christopher says, trying his best to move as fast as he can over to her. she bends down to his level and pulls him into a hug. “i missed you.”

“i know, kid. it’s been too long, but i’m here now. i’m here with you and my brother.”