#post christmas disaster | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

star-ocean-peahen · 4 months

Text

Christmas is a time for famil.............ial dysfunction!!

hahahahaha im the only person in this house who doesn't explode when upset hahahahahaha isnt it funny how that sounds like im a better person but i really just lash out quietly and sarcastically instead hahahahahaha and thats definitely worse because it's more insidious and hurts people when they have less of a chance to understand it hahahahahahaha

hahaha dad snapped at me for trying to protect my sibling from his forceful anxious rants and like yeah thats not the best way to go about the situation i see that now. its not going to work to tell him he's said enough because 1) he does not want to hear that 2) he does not want to hear that from me 3) hed never stop anyway because hes not ACTUALLY saying it for other people's benefit he's saying it because he doesn't believe emotional validation is a legitimate emotional need so he doesn't allow himself to have it so his anxieties have to come out somehow and this is how they do that and i cant really get down on him for that because i did it too!! when you dont have another outlet the anxieties will still come out but just in a non-constructive way!! of course whenever MINE did that he mocked me and made sure i knew EXACTLY how disgusting and cruel he thought i was being but BECAUSE of that i know how it feels and i dont want to do it to him!! the point is that i dont want anyone else to feel like i did and that includes the person who made me feel that way!! because he doesn't really deserve the grace and respect he never gave me but im going to try to give it to him anyway!! because thats the point of breaking the cycle!! but hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my drive to protect my younger sibling is stronger in the moment than my drive to break the cycle and i dont know what to DO to do it the right way and i dont have to get it right esp when it isnt my job.................i just hate to see him saying things that hurt me so much to them...........

and its so fuckign. hard to remember that small humans have no better way of dealing with their emotions so they express them in non-constructive ways. because theyre being little rats.

and my mom is like the only one actually trying to make this celebration fun for everyone and she cant handle the emotional weight of everyone's problems on top of organizing the entire holiday for everyone. she can't do it. i watched her break down in the kitchen. shes doing better now but its not fair!! its not fair that this is happening to her!! its not fair that this is happening to us all!! its not fair that i had to be strong for her when i was repressing all of these feelings!! its not fucking fair that i love them so much!!

and im part of the problem!! i know that!! i make situations worse because im upset!! i tell my dad off for not deescalating when i suck at deescalating too!! im catty and petty and im definitely traumatizing my siblings in the way i was and thats eating me up inside!! i dont know how to do this better and i cant be expected to do this better but FUCK i hate it!!

i just. i wish my siblings could calm themselves down i wish my dad could successfully deescalate situations and not get into stupid arguments that he has to win to make up for his lack of consistent validation i wish my mom could stop yelling at my siblings i wish she could have enough support that she doesnt have to feel anxious i wish my family was NOT SO FUCKING DYSFUNCTIONAL.

its silly goofy but my anthem for when my dad makes me feel bad is the living tombstone song "i can't fix you" because it makes me feel better but its not just that i cant fix them i cant even HELP them. or even if i can i hurt more than i help. wanting to help doesnt translate to succeeding. fuck. i just. i just dont want anyone to feel like i did. but i make them feel that way more than i save them from it. fuck. do i have a thing about saving people. do i care more about feeling like i saved someone than actually being what they need. i dont fucking know.

#yanno when i reblogged that post yesterday that was like compassion for people who have trouble with the holidays i wasnt #expecting it to apply to ME #because somehow every year i forget that christmases are a recipe for disaster #hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #lassie vents #vent #idk even what to tag this #tw christmas

1 note · View note

pathologicalreid · 1 month

Text

next of kin | S.R.

disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: actually might be gn! but i'm too scared to say it is. death, orphan-ing, funerals, child custody issues, blood, general cm violence, like actually an abhorrent amount of death. sorry i killed your parents for the sake of my fanfiction can we still be friends? word count: 3.33k a/n: this is the fic that this post is about. i am in fact my own worst enemy. i hope y'all like it actually genuinely i am most definitely overthinking this. if your name is maya im sorry that sucks.

“What did your parents say?” Spencer asked, walking into the conference room that the local precinct had offered to you.

You had been staring blankly at your phone since you got off the call with your mother, “Uh, they said thanks, but no thanks.”

The uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach as soon as you found out the team was being called to your hometown, and you had been nauseous ever since you found out the UnSub’s pattern.

Married couples with an older child who had moved out and a younger child who was still at home.

Your little sister was a surprise, you had incorrectly assumed your parents were done having kids.

Until today, you wouldn’t have traded Maya for the world, but now you sat in fear of your family being targeted by a serial killer. Hotch had offered them a protective detail, but they declined. Self-righteous as they were, they told you it wouldn’t feel right for them to accept help that couldn’t be offered to everyone.

Clenching your jaw, you stood at the table, “I’ll go by later and check in on them.”

Spencer had met your family twice by now. Last Christmas he had tagged along to meet them and celebrate with your family before the two of you spent New Year’s with his mom. Then, while your sister was on Spring Break, they flew out to Virginia, and you and Spencer had shown your family around Quantico and the District.

Maya had loved Spencer, partially because you loved him, but mostly because of his magic tricks.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked, stepping up next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back.

You sighed and shook your head, “No, not if you’re needed here.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly, “Thank you for offering, Spence.”

He nodded affirmatively, “If you change your mind,” he offered. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before the two of you returned to the rest of the team.

The fact that your parents lived only five minutes from the police station gave you some relief, but you still felt tightly wound. Everyone had noticed. You just needed this case to be over.

The porch lights were on when you got there, and you used your house key – which you had never taken off of your keychain - to open the front door. “Hey, kiddo,” your dad greeted from the couch. A peek into the kitchen showed you that your mom was wiping down the counters. It all felt so eerily normal.

It was dark by the time you had gotten there. Maya was already asleep, but you tip-toed into her room anyway and kissed her goodnight before going back downstairs. Once you had hugged both of your parents and told them you loved them, you made your way back to the police precinct.

By nearly three in the morning, there was no new information, and the team was starting to consider calling it a night until the police chief got a call.

“We just got a call. Lady reported shouts coming from her neighbor’s house at 86 Meadowbrook,” he informed you, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the team.

None of them even spared him a returning glance, everyone’s eyes were on you.

Blinking rapidly, you nodded assuredly, “I have to go get Maya.” You didn’t even recognize your voice even as you said it. It couldn’t have been your voice. That was the rasp of someone far away from you.

All of the other voices around you were muffled, you couldn’t hear what people were telling you, let alone understand them.

Maya. Maya. Maya.

Brown eyes. There they were, right in front of your face. “Let’s go get her,” Spencer whispered.

You had been speaking out loud. Repeating your sister’s name like a prayer without even realizing it.

Hotch let you go with them, but he made it abundantly clear to you – and the rest of the team – that you weren’t working this case anymore.

Surrounded by reverent voices in an SUV, JJ drove while Spencer stayed in the back with you. He held your hand tightly in his.

The house was closed off with police tape. Bright yellow plastic fluttered in the wind as you watched your team and other emergency personnel enter and exit. At your insistence, Spencer went in to get Maya, it felt like it had been hours before he walked out, carrying her in his arms.

Carefully, he brought her to you, and you pulled her close to your chest, blocking her eyesight as two body bags were brought out of the house.

You didn’t hear anything after that. You just let yourself be moved to wherever you needed to be, holding your kid sister as she cried for your parents.

They had to take their bodies to the hospital even though they were already gone, and you needed to be the one to confirm their identities. Spencer stayed with Maya while you were busy. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, you were grateful that she was sleeping, and then you felt cruel.

By sunrise, she was still asleep, and you had been set up in that same conference room from earlier. Sitting across from you was a social worker, a representative of the state. Your lips had parted in shock as you looked at her, “What do you mean they denied my request?”

In an attempt to be helpful, JJ worked with you to file an emergency request for custody of Maya, and the case worker had just told you that the request was denied. “The state doesn’t believe your request is valid,” she told you.

Your mouth went dry, “I don’t…” you glanced over at your little sister. “Our parents were murdered last night, and they won’t let me take custody of my sister?” You asked indignantly, peering at the social worker. It wasn’t her fault, somewhere in your grief-ridden brain you knew that, but you couldn’t help the feeling that she was somehow your enemy.

“They don’t believe you can provide her with a stable living environment,” the social worker, Brittany, explained.

Narrowing your eyes, you responded, “A stable living environment like a foster home? I’m her sister. We’re family – the only family each other has left.” You stood up, excusing yourself for a moment before walking out of the precinct. Once you were outside, you promptly hurled into the bushes.

That was how he found you, to the side of the building with your hair haphazardly moved out of your face, dry heaving into the shrubbery. Gently, Spencer placed a hand on your back before starting to rub small circles on your back, “You should eat something, love.”

You just shook your head in response, you weren’t hungry. “They won’t let me take her,” you whispered morosely, straightening up, you kept your back facing him.

“What?” He asked, his hand abruptly stopping its movement on your back.

Taking a deep breath and sitting on the curb, you looked up at Spencer. “The state thinks I’m not stable enough to take her in,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.

Your boyfriend crouched down so that he could sit next to you, “Are you going to challenge it?”

“Of course I am,” you cried. “But what happens to her in the interim, Spence? She gets placed with whatever foster home here and I go back to Virginia? I see her when the family court resolves this in two years?”

Treading carefully, Spencer cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”

Defeated, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m…” your voice trailed off. “My parents are dead, Spencer,” you murmured softly, tears welling in your eyes.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, “I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you whispered, leaning gently into him.

Spencer turned to kiss your temple, “It’s a good thing you’re not alone then. I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for a moment before continuing, “Give me something to do. Give me a job to take off of your shoulders.”

In the end, you let Spencer take over funeral planning. He thanked you for trusting him before the both of you went back into the precinct.

You had just hung up with a family lawyer who had offered to take your case, letting your phone drop to the floor, you let your arms hang at your side. Someone had taken Maya to get breakfast while you spoke with the lawyer.

At the sound of the phone falling to the floor, Spencer stepped into the conference room, letting the door click shut before him. “Hey, what did he say?”

Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you took in a deep breath, “Um, he said he’d be willing to take the case if I could put together a case plan to present before the judge.”

Before that phone call, you didn’t know what a case plan was, you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing what a case plan was.

“I need a year-long plan for how I’m going to prepare to have Maya in my custody, but he said a year is the best he can do,” you said, staring blankly at the wall ahead of you. “A year?” You whispered aimlessly, “I’m not waiting a fucking year to take custody of her. I have to take her home, Spence. I have to.” It wasn’t your intention to snipe at him, but you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.

The events of the last twelve hours threatened to take you down, but you had to stay strong for Maya.

Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at Spencer, “Why is it that every time I convince myself that it’s going to be okay, I get tossed to the ground again?” You asked him.

Maybe because you weren’t fully convinced. Maybe it was because it had only been seven hours. You needed to remind yourself of that.

“She’s a ward of the state?” Spencer asked for clarification, holding you tightly.

Nodding absentmindedly, you rested your head on his shoulder as he swayed gently. “She can stay with me until after the funeral, and after that, she has to go with the social worker.”

The sad look on Spencer’s face told you that he was running out of ideas, and you were coming to the very same conclusion. “We could get married,” he offered.

“Stop, Spence,” you said, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this was where he was going.

He shrugged helplessly, “I’m serious, Y/N. If we get married, they might think we’re stable, as a couple. They might give us custody.”

Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t want to get married just to get custody of my sister.” It certainly wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Spencer, just not like this.

He nodded understandingly, “I know, but I’m just saying. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” Placing a comforting hand on your knee, the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?” He asked you carefully.

Looking through the blinds of the conference room, you saw the rest of the team coming back to the precinct. Setting your jaw, you nodded, “I might.”

Opening the door, you had Maya go in with Spencer while you approached your Unit Chief. “Hey,” Hotch said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?” He pulled you away from the people, wanting to give you privacy.

This wasn’t fair, they were still working on an active case. A case that was disturbingly close to you, and yet, you felt you were out of options. “I need a favor,” you blurted to him, wringing your hands. Your nervous energy made it impossible for you to stay still.

Hotch nodded, “What do you need?” He asked, studying your composure with the eye of a profiler.

You took a deep breath, “I was… I need you to call in a favor with someone. Anyone, really. The state won’t let me take custody of Maya, but I can’t let her become a ward of the state. Not when I’m right here, ready, willing, and able to take her.”

“Okay,” he responded, not even pausing to think about it.

Taken aback, you looked at him curiously, “I- that’s it? I had groveling prepared.”

He nodded almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to tell you it wasn’t necessary. “You’ve been a part of this team for years and not once have you ever asked for anything in return for everything you do for everyone else. This is the least I can do,” he told you.

You couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed, you tackled Hotch in a bear hug, “Thank you.” Your voice was low, “Thank you so much.”

Succinctly, Hotch hugged you back before you pulled away, “I’ll go make some calls.”

It was the smell.

The smell that you’d sensed countless times before on the job, the metallic tang of the blood. It should’ve been mostly dried by now – you supposed you were more susceptible to the scent, considering it was your parent’s blood, but it put you on high alert.

Emily had brought you by so that you could pack a bag for Maya, but you found yourself stuck on the landing. To one side, there was your childhood bedroom and Maya’s room. On the other side, there was your parent’s room.

“Y/N?” Emily called your name from downstairs, “Are you alright?”

No, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue, scanning the house you had grown up in. “This doesn’t belong here,” you told her, glancing behind you as she made her way up the staircase.

You didn’t have gloves, so instead you pointed at the figurine that was resting on the bookshelves, a little bear facing in the direction of your parent’s bedroom door. “This is in the wrong spot?”

Nodding, your eyes followed the ceramic bear as Emily picked it up with a gloved hand. “It’s mine, it should be in my room,” you informed her. Your parents never changed anything about your childhood bedroom, not since you moved out. “It was like it was watching them,” you thought aloud.

“Do you think the UnSub did it?” She asked you gently, her voice was low but steady.

Blinking rapidly, you kept your eyes focused on the figurine, “Little Bear,” you murmured, “They called her Little Bear.”

Emily shook her head in confusion, dark hair swaying as her head moved. “Who was called Little Bear?”

Dropping the bag you had packed to the floor, you buried your face in your hands, “I should’ve seen it sooner.” The victimology, it all suddenly made sense to you. “When I was a kid, there was a family like mine. A brother who was in his twenties when his parents had another baby, a girl. They called her Little Bear.”

Realization dawned on Emily’s dark features, “Like this bear?”

You picked up the bag and started making your way back down the stairs. “Their mother made those figurines. The parents died in a fire two weeks ago – they left everything to the younger sister. It was all over the news. God, I should’ve figured it out sooner.”

“Hey,” Emily said sympathetically, “You had other things going on. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was stern, harsher than you’d ever heard her, as she pulled out her phone and called the team.

Your teammate drove, passing the police station on the way to drop you off. They left for the takedown, and you felt yourself floating into the precinct. Maya was waiting in the conference room for you, watching cartoons on someone’s laptop.

Kneeling in front of your little sister, you tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, reaching over, and smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”

She had cried herself to sleep earlier, and you felt like you hadn’t been around enough. Maya sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes, they were red, but not teary. “I miss mommy,” she told you, pouting slightly.

You nodded gently, moving to sit next to her before you pulled her into your lap. At six years old, she was all gangly limbs, just starting to grow into her own person. Just old enough to understand death, “I know, baby. I miss them too.”

“They wouldn’t lemme go home,” she continued, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I wanted Thumper,” she whined, sounding younger than she was.

Looking up at the light, you silently begged for your tears to go away. “I got him for you,” you told her, reaching into your bag and producing the small stuffed bunny that you had given her as a baby.

You savored the way her eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal from you.

“So, you and Thumper are gonna come to stay with me in Virginia. Do you remember going there? You said you liked it?” You kept smoothing her hair back as she held her toy.

She was silent for a moment, “Will Spencer be there?” She asked quietly.

Smiling slightly, you nodded, “He and I live together, so he’ll be there with us.” Slowly, you started rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the both of you simultaneously.

“As long as he doesn’t pull money out of my ear,” she answered succinctly, shutting her eyes as she leaned up against you.

There was approximately an hour before you watched the team return to the precinct, slowly, you laid Maya down on the couch before walking out. “It was a clean shoot,” you heard Rossi tell Morgan, and one look at the rest of them told you everything you needed to know.

The team went back to the hotel, and Spencer filled you in on the funeral arrangements he had made on your behalf. You were about to try to get some sleep when Hotch approached you and told you he needed to speak to you.

“I called a good friend of mine on your behalf, and he gave me some information. We were able to work out a plan,” he told you, sitting across from you in the hotel lobby.

You were about to tell him that a case plan wouldn’t work, but he held his hand out, telling you to wait.

He nodded before he kept going, “He was able to file an emergency request to grant you temporary custody of Maya, and it was granted.”

You felt sick to your stomach, “She’s mine?”

“Temporarily, you’ll have to take care of some formalities back in Virginia, but you have full custody of her,” he informed you. “You’re being granted family leave, and I’ve encouraged Reid to apply for it as well,” Hotch told you, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I am… I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this but thank you for coming to me when you needed the help.”

You nodded absentmindedly, your head still whirling with the information that you had just been given. Stumbling, you walked back to your hotel room that you were sharing with Spencer and Maya.

The funeral was planned, the custody issue was solved, all there was left to do was…

“Baby?” Spencer said softly as you swung open the door, “Everyone else took Maya to get ice cream, I figured it couldn’t-“ his voice broke off at your first sob.

Everything you had held in came bursting out, all of the grief and stress and exhaustion nearly knocked your legs out from underneath you.

But Spencer was there to catch you.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort

1K notes · View notes

southislandwren · 1 year

Text

things are actually going really great right now except if the paranoia could lay off i'd really appreciate it.

#there is no one in my house. there are no cameras in my house. i can go to my neighbor if i'm in trouble.#i can call a friend if i need to hear another person. i can call the cops if there's an actual problem.#is this a benadryl thing? is this because i took 1 benadryl a day 3 days in a row?#i dont think its actually from the natural disaster stuff like i previously thought. i thought the real footage etc was just winding me up #i think the benadryl chilled me out and now im withdrawing from it and the paranoia is coming back #although for me paranoia usually comes with hallucinations and actually never mind #as i was typing that im pretty sure im hallucinating a light #hmm. i am starting to panic a little #perhaps i shall consume........ a benadryl #im like lowkey genuinely afraid to go to sleep bc like. i feel like my room is not safe #and i KNOW its safe because i compulsively turn on the light and check the closet and under my bed and i never find anything #last night i slept with my phone flashlight on because i was so scared to go to bed #argh and now i hear a sound from outside and im fucking shaking. why am i like this.#maybe i'll sleep in my living room tonight with the lights on #i put up more christmas lights so my house doesnt get super dark anymore #but like. idk the darkness of my bathroom and bedroom are freaking me the fuck out #diary post

1 note · View note

loverleah · 2 months

Text

in between | leah williamson

- “(s)he laughs at her eyes, at her smile, the glasses on her face.”

in which: you rewatch all your favourite moments with leah.

warnings: hella fluff, swear words

you were a footballer. an outstanding one, to say the least. but on the side you took up vlogging, where you would film and post your favourite bits and pieces of your life.

leah was a frequent participant in your videos, which had over a hundred thousand subscribers. your supporters seemed to love your content when she was included, so what once was your vlogging channel soon turned into a “leah williamson fan page” according to the blonde herself.

on one particularly boring thursday, you had decided to rewatch all of your vlogs (the ones leah were in). you had stayed home from training due to “coming down with a sickness”while leah left to see her physio. with nobody to speak to and nothing to do, this was the only way you could entertain yourself.

VLOG 16 | gingerbread disaster ft. leah

“leah! stop it!” you scolded, slapping the taller girls fingers away as she previously attempted to tickle at your stomach.

“what? you won’t let me love you ‘cause you’re bloody camera is on?” she said sarcastically, hand on her heart. “i’m hurt, baby. truly.”

you turned away from her and rolled your eyes at the camera, mumbling a few incoherent words to yourself. you were both dressed in christmas sweaters and had santa hats on, you two were building gingerbread houses for the video.

“seriously lee, i’m halfway through mine and you haven’t even started building yours!” you exclaimed after looking over leah’s shoulder only to see she had been eating the chocolate you had bought.

“chocolate is supposed to be eaten!”

VLOG 23 | lazy saturdays

“hey everyone. this is for those of you who think leah is all tough and scary and that she wears the pants in the relationship.” you whisper out to the camera, shifting your arm so it is pointed directly at leah.

the defender had her hair sticking out in all different places, her mouth open and full body laying on top of yours. it was early on a saturday morning, you both decided on a relaxed day at home the night before considering you two had nothing on.

“she does this all the time, by the way. always sleeping. not as energetic and serious anymore, ey?” you giggle to yourself, squishing leah’s cheeks.

this action seemed to wake the girl up, her eyes widened at the sight of your camera right in her face.

“fuck fuck! no, get rid! get rid of it!” she wails, hurriedly stumbling to her feet as she chased you out of your shared bedroom.

“that’s going on all my social media, lee!”

VLOG 25 | day with the arsenal

“okay, so this is how you hold it.” you explain to kyra, your best friend and national teammate, “make sure the camera is straight and facing you, so they can see clearly.”

“uh, okay.” the younger girl nods, fumbling with the camera in her hands.

“honestly ky, you’re hopeless!” leah teases, yelping as kyra reaches for her ponytail. “ah! help, y/n, help!”

you grab the camera from kyra’s hands, hysterically laughing while you film the two girls wrestle as beth and vic chant “fight, fight, fight!”

“poor alessia looks like she’s going to shit herself,” viv laughs. you smile as you shift the camera to face alessia. the blonde stood behind lotte, grimacing as leah and kyra continued to yell and shove each other.

“let go of me you rodent!”

“you first, willy bum!”

a series of “ooo’s” and “oh no’s” were heard as kim entered the locker room.

“what is going on?” she yells, eyebrows furrowed as the group fell silent. you hid your camera underneath cloe’s elbow as katie and caitlin made room for kim to walk through.

the older captain grabs both the girls on the ground by their ears as they complain and point fingers at each other.

“kyra tore my top!”

“you bit my finger!”

the rest of the arsenal girls stifle their laughs as both kyra and leah were dragged by their ears out of the locker room.

“time out for the rest of break!”

VLOG 28 | special 200k QNA ft. leah’s horrid cooking

“-so that’s why i wear number 24 on the back of my shirt! i also wanted a two digit number and it kinda just stuck up until now-“

you were cut off by a loud shriek and a loud crash. you were situated in your room, where you had a bowl full of printed questions next to you which leah had handpicked from the poll you had put up earlier. she had told you she would be in the kitchen, where she never usually is, so you assumed she would wait there for you and not actually cook up a storm.

“fuck!” you swore, hurriedly grabbing your camera behind as you ran downstairs.

you swore you could have died laughing at the sight before you. leah was dressed in your apron, which was two sizes too small, considering your height difference. her hands were covered in ginormous oven mitts, and her hair was sticking up in all different places. the kitchen, if even possible, was in a worse state. there was flour everywhere, and egg shells in the sink. the oven was wide open, revealing two layers of cake and a whole lot of smoke.

“turn the smoke alarm off, lee!” you giggled, slapping her ass while she reached up and turned it off.

“fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen- are you honestly filming this right now?” the blonde exclaimes, making a move to grab your camera.

“oi! this new camera was expensive i will have you know!”

“oh, trust me i do, considering i payed for it!”

you roll your eyes and placed the camera down, grabbing a tea towel and swatting the remaining smoke out the open window.

“well, this was a nice surprise. thank you for trying, babe.” you smile, grabbing leah’s now bare hands in your own. the older girl leaned down and pecked your lips, brushing your hair out of your face.

“yeah, yeah,” leah’s smirk fell as she faced the camera, “shit, i forgot you were filming! don’t put that in!”

“oh put a rest to it, will you? let’s get that chocolate cake out of the oven before it turns a completely burnt black!”

“…that cake was supposed to be vanilla?”

you smiled as you added the remaining videos which included leah to a folder on your computer. little did the blonde know, you were going to play these at your wedding in three weeks.

A.N (AUTHORS NOTE)

this is my first ever fic, so please be nice 😭😭

i absolutely love leah fics and have literally read all of them so i decided to make some of my own content!!! requests are open!!!!

#arsenal wfc #leah williamson #woso x reader #lw6 #lionesses #woso fanfics #woso community #woso blurbs

467 notes · View notes

scientia-rex · 4 months

Text

The thing that bothers me so much about my sister in law who is trying to “live conscientiously” (quote from today’s Christmas retrospective Facebook post) is that she wants to apply her morals to me.

It doesn’t work that way. I live in accordance with my beliefs to the best of my ability. I am not somehow UNDERTHINKING morality. I think about it all the damn time. It’s a huge part of why I went into medicine in the first place, why I keep working at the jail even though it’s inevitably a disaster nightmare of mis-management and I don’t need the money and my life would be easier if I only worked my one full-time job. I am doing things, every workday, that make a tangible difference in the quality of life for people who need it. That’s where my morality is at.

But if you interpret your life through the lens of consumerism, of COURSE how and what you buy is the deciding factor in whether you’re a good person.

The idea that earth tones and listening to NPR and teaching your kid an impractical foreign language are ENOUGH, that you can give your life meaning through rejecting the same obvious signifiers of wealth the nouveau riche favor but still wearing the very best of your ethically-sourced wool, is just… no. You need to DO things for other people. You can give money. People don’t like to do that, because it feels like a cop-out, and it is. But it’s a far better cop-out than lecturing me on free range chicken (for just one of many, many examples). Or lecturing me on how to talk about gay people, when she isn’t one and I am.

I’m a brightly-colored, obvious weirdo who loves nice things. I’m a magpie. I want a collection of pretty shinies. THAT is not what’s wrong with this world. What’s wrong with this world is a deeper, more hideous rot that you can’t root out by not wearing big dangly earrings and neon colors.

587 notes · View notes

wynnyfryd · 5 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 37

part 1 | part 36 | ao3

cw: depression, ptsd, references to canonical death and horror

Chapter 9

December

The smudged feeling comes back.

Which sucks, if he's being honest.

Despite the new thing with Eddie and the breathing room in his budget; despite everything going fine with Robin and work and the kids, his good moods never seem to hold. They keep getting muddied up, can't shine through the grubby handprints that threaten to blot them out.

And sure, it's not like he expected one great make out session to change his life (and it was a great one, to be clear; a great make out session and an even better handy later that night in Eddie’s van), but he just…

Shit.

He doesn’t know.

He thought it might feel easier. Life, adulthood; everything. Like the lightness and warmth he felt that night might carry over, might drift through to fill the cracks in him like a blanket of fresh snow.

But they don't, because they can't.

They can't touch the fact that he has no clue what he’s doing. That Steve Harrington's got no purpose, no direction and no point.

Most mornings he's got nothing but his creeping paranoia and a bone deep sense of dread.

The new year closes in like a wet tongue up the back of his neck; hot breath of a drooling grizzly getting ready to take a bite, and the long winter shadows around his house are growing fangs, rows upon rows of razor teeth in petal mouths.

His nightmares tastes like rot and lilac. Something heavy in the air.

And in the mornings he feels stupid when he wakes up shivering in cold sweat, foolish and young and alone. He clutches at his nail bat and peers through the cracks in the blinds, and he feels like a lunatic because there’s nothing out there. Nothing abnormal. Nothing wrong-side up. Just the shadows and the strays; the scurrying of house mice and the skitter of dead leaves.

It’s over now, they told him. It’s over, kid. We won.

They said it all three times.

—

"Uh...”

Eddie's standing in Steve's doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms loosely folded over his chest, a weird smile on his face like he's deeply fucking confused by what he's seeing but is trying so hard to be cool about it.

Which, like. Fair.

It's mid-morning on a Sunday and Steve is crawling on hands and knees in his gutted disaster of a living room — ripping up the edges of his terrible burnt orange carpet without even pausing to say hello — and the kids will be here any minute to help put up the Christmas tree, and he hadn't meant to do this; knows he looks completely manic, sweat dripping into his eyes, knuckles bleeding from the tack strips, but he woke up trembling from another nightmare and decided that everything had to go.

The nightmare felt too real. Long claws and sharp teeth, squelching muck and snaking vines; a flash of Chief Hopper bloody and shorn in a frozen wasteland, but the chief is dead and everyone's dead and Steve is so tired of being haunted by their ghosts, and in his shaken, post-dream haze he convinces himself that it's this place.

This place is the fucking problem.

This godforsaken tin can with spirits crawling in the walls.

They're clinging on like static just before a thunderstorm. In the floorboards, in the rug. Steve can feel them with each step. How many footprints buried themselves in these worn fibers? How many exhausted treks to the fridge and frenzied rushes to the phone; how many angry late-night pacers and visitors overstaying a welcome?

"Stevie?" Eddie clears his throat.

Steve just wants them all gone. The whole haunted circus — wants to strip it to the bones, start fresh with something new.

So far all he’s done is make the place smell like his nightmares. Like dust and death and lilac as he pulls the carpet up. There’s an oily stain on the subfloor from where he smashed his mom’s perfume, and a green-black mystery splotch by the kitchen that could be water damage, or it could be the remnants of a liquified rat. Or a person; so many people, melted meat monster smashing through the city blood and gore in a demodog's jowls the walls pulsing with membranes like some fucked up rotten womb and—

"Hey." Eddie's boots come into view. Calm commandment in his tone, stepping right into Steve's space. "Look at me," he sighs.

Steve sits back and wipes his brow. The sweat stings his cut-up hands, and he wishes he weren't so busy being a nutcase, because Eddie looks good like this. Standing over him, petting a hand through his damp hair. Making him kneel down at his feet. It’s hot. They could do something with this. Steve could—

"You want to tell me what you're doing?"

Tears prick up in Steve's dumb eyes.

What's he supposed to say? There were ghosts in the fucking carpet?

He shakes his head and sniffs, and Eddie steps in a little closer; moves his hand to cup Steve's jaw. "No?" he lifts a brow.

Outside, tires crunch over the gravel, the kids making a racket as they pour out of the Wheelers’ car. Goddammit.

Steve huffs and gets to his feet; lets Eddie steady him. They share a look. The kids are shouting on the lawn. "Can you take us to Home Depot?"

—

part 38

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic

542 notes · View notes

ozzgin · 23 days

Text

BNHA Headcanons: Pro-Hero AU! Todoroki Shoto x Reader

A/N: Posting this separately for @eudonyx so people don't get confused by the Christmas greetings in the ask (I am that slow for some things unfortunately). 😭

Featuring Shoto as a loving husband to Reader. (Gender Neutral, fluff)

If there's one thing Todoroki greatly appreciates, it's routine. But not the kind of routine you'd expect, such as mere morning habits. You see, his life as a pro-hero is quite erratic and unpredictable. You never know when disaster will hit. Or when a villain needs to be defeated. But among this chaos, there's one thing that always stands true, one aspect that never changes: at the end of the day, he comes home to you.

In fact, he'd go as far as to say you're his little corner of peace. The world may burn; as long as his (Y/N) is by his side, there's still hope to cling onto. It's just the way it's always been: You are his greatest source of comfort. And so, after a long, busy day, he cannot wait to open the door and see your welcoming smile and hear your soothing voice.

It's the little things in life that matter. This is the philosophy Todoroki adheres to. He has a fantastic reputation, and the masses adore him. He's frequently interviewed and invited to events. Yet, for him, nothing compares to an evening spent hanging out with you. No amount of fame can ever compare to the love and understanding he receives from his one and only spouse.

Such thoughts are naturally matched by gestures to prove it. Todoroki is an incredibly thoughtful husband. Mind you, he's not the type to impress you with gestures of grandeur. He's one of the top heroes and could easily arrange extravagant proposals if you so desired. He prefers, however, to show he cares in quieter ways. Randomly returning with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Stopping by your favorite bakery to surprise you with sweets. Handing you tickets to an upcoming concert of your favorite singer (yes, he took the time off from the moment he heard about it).

He is also not one to parade you around, but he will be very firm about his relationship. From an awkward, easily flustered boy, to a tactful, confident man. It's not uncommon for Shouto to be approached by fans with flirtatious intents. In that case, he will smile and keep his distance, adjusting his suit with the same hand that bears his ring. "I hope you find someone who loves you as much as I love my spouse", he'll confess cheerfully. "I can understand your feelings, I am the same as you when it comes to (Y/N)", he'll relate empathetically.

Shouto strives for peace and justice, like any other hero, though he'd be lying if he said it's his main motivation. In reality, his driving force is you. He will do his best again today, so that he can return into your arms once everything is done.

#gn reader #gender neutral reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha au #pro hero au #pro hero shouto #shouto todoroki #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader

289 notes · View notes

epicbuddieficrecs · 5 months

Text

Weekly Recap | December 4th-10th 2023

Can you believe it's only been about six months and I'm on my second 9-1-1 rewatch? 😅

Complete

the trouble with family by adorkable_buddie/ @butraura (Post-S6, Getting Together | 7K | Teen): In which, after Natalia breaks up with Buck, he goes to bar and hits it off with some woman. The next morning and a one night stand later, Buck learns that the woman is Eddie's sister.

'tis the damn season by spaceprincessem / @spaceprincessem (Post-S5, Christmas, Getting Together | 7K | Teen): Eddie asks Buck to the Holiday Fireman's Ball. It goes so much better than he could ever imagine

when your world is on fire by smilingbuckley/ @smilingbuckley (Established Buddie, Angst | 6K | Teen): The 118 responds to what should be a normal house fire only to find out that one of their own is stuck inside and believed to be dead.

caught up in your curls by smilingbuckley/ @smilingbuckley (Getting Together | 6K | Explicit): After having been in El Paso for awhile, taking care of his Abuela, Eddie can finally go home to Los Angeles. He fully expected his son to have changed over the past few weeks because he's a teenager, they change every day. What he didn't prepare for was Buck, who suddenly has grown out his curls. Curls Eddie has a weakness for. It causes for some... interesting situations, until Eddie reaches his breaking point.

Don't Listen When I Scream by devirnis/ @devirnis (Bad Things Happen Bingo: Forced to Watch, Kidnapping, Angst | 11K | Mature): The man shoves Buck into the chair. Picking a hunting knife up from the tray, he points it at Eddie. “If you fight back or try to escape, I will slit his throat before you can even blink. Understand?”

there you are, sweetheart by oklahoma / @malewifediaz (Christmas, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Over Christmas hot chocolate and silly banter in the kitchen, Eddie tells Buck he loves him.

Why Not Take All of Me? by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Madney Wedding | 13K | Mature): When a small disaster strikes the morning of Maddie and Chimney's wedding, Buck, Hen, and Chim find themselves unwittingly caught up in an emergency across town, while Maddie and Eddie get stuck in an elevator.

even when the heat breaks I’m still yours by thewolvesof1998/ @thewolvesof1998 (PWP, Post-S6 | 6K | Explicit): Buck and Eddie get stuck in a cabin during a heatwave, they finally take the next step and fuck nasty on the floor.

You Ring, I Drool by callmenewbie/ @callmenewbie (Christmas, Getting Together | 8K | Explicit): 5+1 times Buck reminds Eddie of a dog // alternatively; the one in which Eddie accidentally conditions Buck to beg for treats

reach my hand through time (hold your hand so tight) by renecdote/ @renecdote (Exes to Lovers | 6K | Teen): In which Buck and Eddie breakup, get back together, and adopt a cat. In exactly that order.

bury my heart at the rodeo by lecornergirl / @clusterbuck (Getting Together | 1,2K | General): OR: eddie rides a horse and it makes buck a little reckless

let me take you (apart) by renecdote / @renecdote (PWP, Getting Together | 2K | Explicit): Buck is pinning Eddie’s arms over his head with one hand, the other low on his best friend’s hip, his weight pressing forward so that they’re chest to chest, mouths inches apart. Buck feels that exhalation against his skin, tickling, exhilarating, ghost-like in the way that it makes his hair stand on end. “Told you I could take you.”

the things that torment most by renecdote/ @renecdote (S3, Getting together | 5K | General): In which Buck reads a lot and all roads lead to him figuring out he's in love with his best friend.

this surprise ending i’m depending on (could be the story of another us) by Iover_of_mine (I_almost_do)/ @lover-of-mine (Post 6x15, Pining | 3K | Teen): Buck is on a date and Eddie pines.

for everything we are (everything we’ve been) by Iover_of_mine (I_almost_do)/ @lover-of-mine (Post-S6, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): “So here's what we're gonna do, the shit we've been through that you keep telling yourself didn't happen to you so you have no right to feel anything about it? You're gonna tell me how you felt about it anyway," Eddie says, turning on his chair so he's facing Buck fully and watching as Buck mirrors his movement, places his beer on the counter, and rubs his thighs before speaking.

swinging for the fences by inbetweenthestacks/ @organizedstardust (Getting Together | 6K | Teen): Buck takes Eddie to a baseball game.

🔥 reachin for me (makin love to someone else) by inbetweenthestacks/ @organizedstardust (Post-S6, Getting Together | 8K | Explicit): Buck says Eddie’s name while having sex with Natalia.

boiling point by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): Evan Buckley's extremely extended metaphor for loving Eddie Diaz.

it's like everything you say is a sweet revelation by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Friends to Fiances, Post-S6 | 5K | Mature): “Marry me,” Eddie said. It wasn’t a question, it was a sentence. He said it like he was commenting on the weather or last night's Dodgers game. Buck slowly lowered his coffee cup, eyes wide. Eddie lifted his drink and took a sip, a satisfied hum escaped him as he did. “Come again?” “Marry me,” Eddie took another sip of his coffee. “Please?”

If we’re both still single… by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): “I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to repeat that for me?” Eddie had a beer halfway to his lips, his arm slung lazily on the back of the couch. “If we’re both still single when we’re 35, we should just get married,” Buck repeated, as casually as if he was saying they should order pizza or change the channel from the basketball game to hockey.

🔥 it hurts to hope for more by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 15K | Mature): “I’m never - I’m never going to be a dad,” Buck sobs into Eddie’s shoulder. “She didn’t want kids. Why do I keep dating people who don’t want the same things as me? Is- is the universe telling me that I don’t deserve it?” “Hey, no,” Eddie pulls back from the hug and Buck lets out a pitiful sound at the loss of contact. “The universe doesn’t do that. The universe doesn’t scream and it definitely doesn’t get to tell you what you deserve, because you deserve everything Buck. Everything.”

don't wanna snooze and miss the moment by inbetweenthestacks/ @organizedstardust (Getting Together | 2K | General): Eddie gets caught on the edges of sleep and is a little too honest.

let me find some warmth inside this little love of mine by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (NYE, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Buck and Eddie find themselves outside of the 118’s yearly New Year’s Eve party. And wish making occurs.

WIP

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 10/? | 7K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 100/? | 266K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Fractals from the Lightning Bolt by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (One Shots Collection | 41/54 | 78K | Not Rated): A collection of oneshots, some originally posted on tumblr. Each chapter is individually rated.

Chapter 41: Melt: written around the time of the shooting, when I thought we'd get to see more of Eddie's physical recovery in one way or another.

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #911 fanfic #911 fanfiction #911 fic #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfiction #epic buddie fic rec

153 notes · View notes