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slytherinslut0 · 6 months

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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Eight-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theós fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviours, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Angst, Kissing, Sadism, Grinding.

***FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

Monday dawned, heralding the return to the comforting rhythm of routine. It was the day that marked the return to navigating through a series of classes, where the majority of students seemed disinterested--their attention merely a sliver of the fervor you felt for the subject matter being presented.

Strangely, Monday held a special place in your heart, a day you embraced with boundless enthusiasm. As the sun stretched its golden fingers through your window, you sprang out of bed, brimming with a vitality that could rival the sunrise. Every cell in your body hummed with energy, enough to fuel you through the day and perhaps even run a marathon around the school grounds before your legs begged for respite.

However, on this seemingly mundane Monday, time seemed to drag its feet, the minutes stretching into endless hours as you maneuvered through class after class. Familiar faces that once held no significance now sent a shiver down your spine, tightening your stomach into knots so constricting they threatened to suffocate you whole.

Normally, classes with Mattheo, Tom, Enzo, and the rest of the Slytherin boys were unremarkable--a monotonous routine where you blended into the background. However, after the tumultuous events that unfolded in the Slytherin common room that past Friday night, it felt like every single pair of eyes in the room bore into your skin with an unsettling intensity, leaving you acutely aware of the weight of their scrutinizing glances.

The memories of that evening hung in the air like a lingering mist, casting a somber aura over your every interaction. Each sidelong glance felt like an interrogation, and hushed conversations reverberated with the unspoken questions that hung between you and your peers. Their collective scrutiny bore down on you, and as the day wore on, you found yourself yearning for the respite that the night would bring, where you hoped to escape the watchful eyes and find solace in the darkness.

With the finesse of a skilled acrobat, you expertly maneuvered through the day's treacherous waters, keeping your head low and your presence inconspicuous. The weight of wary eyes and whispered rumors hung in the air, yet you managed to evade their grasp, emerging unscathed by nightfall.

As darkness cloaked the castle, you found sanctuary in the Astronomy Tower, something you done quite often. There, beneath the celestial tapestry of the stars, you immersed yourself in your weekly research, finding solace in the quiet solitude of the night. The distant hoot of an owl and the gentle rustle of leaves provided a soothing backdrop as you delved into the captivating realms of celestial phenomena.

With parchment and quill in hand, you meticulously documented the positions of stars, planets, and constellations, observing their intricate dance across the night sky.

Your research focused on celestial events, planetary alignments, and their potential impact on magical energies. Guided by the wisdom of ancient texts and your insatiable curiosity, you sought to unravel the cosmic mysteries that intertwined with the magical fabric of the wizarding world. Each Monday night since the start of the fourth year, you climbed the tower's spiraling steps in order to gather documentation and compare with the previous week.

Lost in the ethereal dance of the stars, your quill moved across the parchment as if guided by some unseen force. Each stroke of your pen felt like an incantation, weaving together the threads of magic and the celestial realm.

Suddenly, the soft echo of footsteps on the stone floor snapped you back to reality. Your head whipped around, eyes wide and heart pounding, only to find Mattheo Riddle sauntering over without a sheer care in the world. His cheeky grin mirrored the mischief that danced in his eyes as he slumped down on the ground in front of you, his back resting against the cold railing.

For a moment, the enchanting allure of the stars faded, replaced by the enigmatic presence of the boy who always seemed to tread the line between trouble and fascination. His eyes glittered with amusement, and you could sense there was more to his presence than mere curiosity.

The stars held their secrets close, but Mattheo Riddle was an enigma you were yet to decipher.

"Stargazing, Raven?" he asked, his voice a smooth melody in the quiet night. "Or might you be decoding the secrets of the universe?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" you retorted, your heart still pounding in your chest, nerves still recovering from the fright he had given you. "You scared the bloody life out of me."

The moonlight cast eerie shadows across his features as he nonchalantly pulled out a pack of cigarettes, the metallic glint catching the dim light. He skillfully extracted one, placing it between his lips, the end glowing briefly as he lit it with the flicker of his lighter, the scent of smoke wafting through the air. Amused indifference danced in his eyes as he exhaled a plume of smoke into the night, his gaze meeting yours with a teasing glimmer.

"What's the matter? Thought I was Berkshire?" he teased, his voice a low murmur, the cigarette smoldering between his fingers. "I came up because I knew you'd be up here...you're quite the creature of habit, even after all these years."

The tension between you hung in the air, thick and palpable, the silence broken only by the distant rustle of leaves and the soft crackle of the burning cigarette.

"You knew I'd be up here?" you huffed, irritation lacing your words, the annoyance palpable in the air. His Berkshire comment had struck a nerve, and you felt the sting of it. "What, are you stalking me now?"

Mattheo let out a low chuckle, smoke curling around his lips like a ghostly veil.

"Hardly stalking, princess," he said, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a smirk. "This used to be my smoking spot. Had to find a new one ever since your prissy little ass decided to take up stargazing as a bloody extracurricular."

His voice slithered with a playful venom, a tantalizing blend of sarcasm and arrogance that only Mattheo Riddle could master. Each word was like a silk thread, wrapping around your senses, leaving your skin prickling with irritation and your pulse quickening with an unsettling desperation. The emotional whirlwind he stirred within you was as intoxicating as it was maddening--a dizzying concoction of annoyance and desire, a sick dance that left you both infuriated and oddly enticed, your heart pounding in your chest like a caged animal desperate for release.

Your eyes narrowed, a flicker of realization washing over you as you caught on to his unspoken admission, your lips curling into a devilish, twisted smirk as you tilted your head in challenge.

"Oh no...how utterly tragic, Riddle," your words dripped with sarcasm, each syllable carefully enunciated, as you arched an eyebrow in mock surprise. "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience I've caused you--please, tell me, should I get on my fucking knees for you now, or later?"

A wicked smirk curved Mattheo's lips as he took a leisurely drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the darkness. His posture oozed unfazed arrogance, his sharp features highlighted by the soft glow, casting a sinister shadow across his face.

"Now...later...doesn't matter to me, Raven," he purred, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "You'll end up on them for me eventually."

"Just charming, you are," you retorted, rolling your eyes to hide the flicker of arousal that his words ignited. "Look, I appreciate the company...but if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to my 'prissy' little activity in peace."

You chewed your cheek, your tone laced with sarcasm as you turned your attention back to your celestial research, not bothering to look up at him as you tossed him another jab, seemingly unable to control yourself.

"And no, I wasn't worried you'd be Berkshire," you muttered, focused on your parchment. "I was worried you'd be your brother, you know, the prefect...getting caught by him is the last thing I need right now."

Mattheo's eyes narrowed, a glint of annoyance flashing in his gaze like a stormy sky. "Sorry to disappoint," he retorted, his voice low and laced with irritation. "Bet you'd love a punishment from him, huh? He'd make you face the wall, maybe even bend you over and have you lift up your skirt...the sixth years certainly seem to fucking love it."

Your stomach twisted, the weight of his words sinking in as you peeled your eyes away from your work. You met his gaze, desperately assessing him for any sign of bluffing, but not finding even a shred. His words hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that he might be telling the truth. A scoff escaped your lips, a mix of disbelief and nervous tension.

"Don't believe me? Maybe try crawling out from under your little rock for once and listen to the talk." He took another drag of his cigarette, his lips curling into a half-smirk. "Consider me your guardian angel tonight, saving you from that terrible fate."

"Guardian angel?" you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you tried to brush off the uneasy feeling settling in your gut. "So that's why you're here...you're worried Tom is going to find me and touch me without your fucking permission, aren't you?"

Your words carried a biting edge, challenging him to reveal his true intentions. His half-smirk deepened, the corners of his lips tugging upward in a way that made your skin crawl. Mattheo's gaze bored into yours, his eyes flickering with a mix of amusement and something darker, something possessive that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I prefer to be the one that decides who gets to play with my toys," he said, his voice low and laden with a subtle threat. "And as it turns out, I don't like sharing what belongs to me, Raven."

The way he said your nickname sent a shiver down your spine, his voice wrapping around you like a dangerous promise. A predatory edge underscored his words, a warning wrapped in seduction, making you acutely aware of the dangerous game you were playing with the messy, brown haired boy in front of you.

And in the aftermath of his words, something inside you snapped, tired of his games, a fierce energy propelled you forward. With swift purpose, you cast your parchment and quill aside, shifting across the unforgiving stone floor, each movement deliberate, until you found yourself nestled in the space between his legs, the cold stone biting through your robes. Your eyes bored into his, your gaze intense and unyielding, as if you could find the answers to all of your questions painted on his skin.

"You're going to give me grey hair, do you fucking know that, Mattheo?" you whispered, your voice laced with frustration as you locked eyes with him, searching for any semblance of truth in his gaze. "When are we going to talk about what you said in the library? When you-"

"What's there to talk about, Raven?" He cut you off, leaning his head back against the railing, his expression nonchalant as he brought his half-lit cigarette up to his lips, taking a slow draw while his eyes remained fixed on yours. "I already told you, I was drunk."

Your stomach plummeted like a stone, a sickening mix of disappointment and hurt gnawing at your insides. Despite your efforts to conceal it, to suppress it so deep that it diminished into absolutely nothing, the sinking feeling was undeniable, overshadowing any semblance of composure you tried to maintain. Each shallow breath you took seemed to echo the hollow ache within you, amplifying the aggravating vulnerability you felt.

"So when you said I'm not just your toy, you didn't mean it..." your voice wavered into a barely audible whisper, trailing off into the unspoken ache. "When you said I'm the one girl you can't get enough of...you didn't-"

"Perhaps I meant one of those things," he said, his voice carrying the weight of the world. "I'll leave which one up to your interpretation, Raven...you're a bright girl, yeah?"

The dim light from the tower's single lantern cast uneven shadows on his face, highlighting the contours of his features. His eyes, usually a bottomless abyss, now held a glimmer of something you couldn't quite decipher. Mattheo's gaze flickered, darting from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes, brows pinched in focus. His lips, once so teasing, tightened into a thin line, and the playfulness that usually danced in his eyes was replaced with a shadowed intensity.

His hand found your arm, the touch feather-light, yet still somehow managed to send shivers down your spine, as if the grip had the power to unravel every thought you harbored. You felt the weight of his fingers, warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the cool stone beneath you, and you exhaled; a long, trembling breath.

"Why do you have to do that?" You couldn't contain the frustration in your voice, the pent-up emotions breaking free. "Why do you always deflect everything? It's impossible to-"

Your words were cut off abruptly as his touch tightened ever so slightly, his grip firm yet still strangely gentle. His eyes drilled into yours, now, as if daring you to continue--the silence between you speaking louder than any words could, the unspoken tension lingering in the air like a storm on the horizon.

"Raven," he said, his voice low and measured. "You said you didn't want to make things complicated-"

"Too late for that, Riddle..." you cut him off, now. Your voice was edged with frustration, your emotions swirling like a storm inside you. "You already blew that door wide open when you started getting possessive and then said we should just forget about everything-"

His grip tightened further, tugging you closer, the tension between you palpable. "Yeah, and how long did that last?"

"Are you blaming me for that, Mattheo?" you said, your voice a mere whisper, your gaze flickering to his lips, almost involuntarily.

"I'd never blame you for any of this, Raven." He retorted, voice tight and controlled. "But you didn't stop me...you didn't push me away..."

Your lungs stalled in the wake of his words, your chest constricting, every syllable bouncing around in your head like a basketball. His words rattled your brain, a heavy truth you couldn't deny. The weight of your own desires and the reckless dance you both had engaged in settled upon your shoulders.

"You called yourself a monster..." you whispered, your voice barely audible, as if you were afraid of setting him off with too loud of a pitch. "You said you'd never deserve-"

"I am a monster, Raven," he spat, his throat working as he swallowed. "I have blood on my hands in ways you could never imagine…and that doesn't even do it justice…it’s on more than my hands…it's not as though it stops there, at my wrist like a fucking glove..."

His words hung in the air, laden with a haunting ache that resonated in the nighttime silence. A defeated exhale escaped your lips as you shifted against the cold stone, feeling Mattheo's hand slip around your back and pull you into the warmth of his chest. Your head nuzzled involuntarily into the hollow of his neck, seeking solace from the frigid night, every inch of your body tingling against his. You didn't understand what this was between you two, what the fuck you were even doing, but the biting cold seemed to fade away in the embrace of his body, offering a fleeting sense of comfort in the midst of uncertainty.

As the silence settled around you both, broken only by the steady drumming of his heart, you couldn't escape the profound curiosity that gripped your thoughts--you wondered what he'd gone through, what he'd done, or perhaps even what he'd seen--but even more than that, you couldn't help but to wonder--was it better to out-monster the monster, or allow yourself to be quietly devoured?

"What's your story, Mattheo?" you asked, your voice tinged with a bitterness you hadn't meant to unleash, shattering the silence between you. "What the hell made you such a complicated asshole?"

"What's yours, Raven?" His body tensed at your words, his Adam's apple bobbing against your head as he swallowed, a subtle tremor betraying the calm facade."Actually, don't even tell me...I'm pretty certain I've already got it."

"Is that so?" You cocked an eyebrow. "Let's hear it then."

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "You're the girl who craves chaos but hides it beneath a veneer of perfection."

His words almost immediately made you tense, and yet, you knew he wasn't finished.

"Silver spoon-fed, parents too busy climbing social ladders to notice their own daughter drowning in their expectations...private schools, debutante balls, a picture-perfect life that's paralyzing you. You're the good girl, always following the rules, always striving for the unattainable...classic overachiever clawing for perfection just to win daddy's fucking approval," he pressed his mouth to your temple, dropping his voice into a low, growling whisper. "Tell me, how does it feel to wear that suffocating mask every day?"

"Fuck you," your gaze hardened, the words slicing past your teeth like a razor, pulling yourself off his chest as you shifted to face him. You couldn't believe how scarily fucking accurate he was, but you refused to give him the satisfaction."If I didn't know any better, I'd think there was jealousy in your tone, Riddle."

"You can't deny it because you know I'm right," he shrugged, voice as cool as ice. "I see the look in your eyes...eyes don't lie, Raven."

"You think you have me all figured out, yeah?" You huffed, irritation flooding through you now, searing your skin. "Well you're not the only one...I fucking see you, Mattheo Riddle...the black sheep of a prestigious family...daddy's little disappointment, constantly overshadowed by your genius brother...a rebel without a cause, desperately seeking validation in all of the wrong places. The reckless bad boy facade is merely a shield to hide the cracks in your own pitiful self-worth."

You couldn't even believe the words leaving your own mouth, but if they affected Mattheo in any way, his expressions would never show it. You let your words linger for a moment before you countered his earlier question with one of your own.

"Don’t you ever get tired of pretending, Mattheo?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed Mattheo's eyes, swiftly overshadowed by a simmering anger. His lips tightened into a thin line, the muscles in his jaw clenching visibly. The silence that followed your question was thick with tension, pregnant with the weight of unspoken emotions. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he managed to draw out a composed response, his voice laced with a bitter edge.

"Tired?" He spat. "I don't have the luxury of exhaustion, Raven."

"Grow up, Mattheo..." you physically had to refrain from rolling your eyes. "It's about fucking time you got over yourself, don't you think?"

"I'd be careful with your next words, princess..." he spat, his tone sharp as a dagger. "You don't know anything about me…it's bold of you to think you can make assumptions like that."

"You fucking started it," your voice was low and laced with intensity, leaning in closer until your breath mingled with his. "You don't know half of the woman you stare in the face."

Mattheo paused, his eyes, deep pools of intensity, bore into yours, drawing you in with their magnetic pull. Every glance exchanged with him was like plunging into the depths of a storm, your heart racing with the force of the emotions he stirred within you. The pause stretched, the silence thick with unspoken desires and unquenchable passion as you held his gaze, feeling the unrelenting pull that seemed to tether your souls together.

"You know what I think, Raven?" The tone of his voice switched to a seductive purr, his calloused palm finding your thigh, slithering higher. "I think we're more alike than you'd care to admit."

Each word dripped with a venomous mix of arrogance and seduction, carrying the weight of the truth you both refused to acknowledge--the touch of his hand on your thigh rid any desire you had to speak, seemingly possessed and silenced simultaneously, clinging to his voice.

"I think we're two sides of the same coin, struggling to find our place in a world that demands we choose a path..." Mattheo continued, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "We both wear masks, Raven. Yours might be polished and refined, but it's still a mask. Underneath, we're both drowning in expectations, haunted by our own ghosts."

His fingers traced circles on your thigh, a touch that sent electric jolts through your skin. "We're both searching for something, aren't we?" he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Maybe that's the point of all of this...after all, it is equally as fucking inhumane to be totally good, as it is to be totally bad, don't you think?"

A charged silence enveloped both of you as Mattheo pulled you closer, his fingers trailing a fiery path along your skin. His lips hovered inches away from yours, teasing but never quite fulfilling the promise of a kiss.

"Maybe...we make each other feel alive...does it matter if it hurts?" His thumb brushed gently over your bottom lip, a touch as soft as a feather but laden with an undeniable intensity. "It’s a risk…for both of us…but I tried to fight it and didn't even last a fucking day...it's wrong, Raven, it's so fucking wrong...but I just can't stay away from you..."

In the wake of his touch, his words, his fucking voice--you found yourself utterly breathless, frozen in a moment where time seemed to stand still. In the silence that followed, his eyes bored into yours like twin obsidian orbs reflecting a stormy sky, and you were rendered powerless, your every sense overwhelmed by the intoxication he effortlessly wielded.

His presence was a potent elixir that seeped into your veins, setting your blood on fire and entangling your soul in a web of desire. You were caught in a whirlwind, a chaotic dance between anger and need, a tempestuous passion that only he could incite. Every fiber of your being rebelled against the pull he had on you, yet you found yourself irresistibly drawn to the very source of your turmoil.

He was a living contradiction, an enigma wrapped in layers of darkness and charm. His presence was suffocating and intoxicating, a potent mix that left you both exhilarated and vulnerable. In that moment, you realized he was more than just a person; he was a force of nature, a hurricane you couldn't escape, even if you wanted to.

As the truth hung heavy in the air, you admitted it to yourself--despite the chaos he brought into your life, despite the risks and the dangers, you fucking craved him. A dark villain you found yourself strangely drawn to, unable to outrun the allure of his darkness. His touch, his words, his very essence--they made you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before, in the most chaotic and exhilarating way, and in the midst of this internal battle, you acknowledged the undeniable reality--you wanted him, fiercely and recklessly, consequences be damned.

You inhaled a shallow breath, drawing in his exhales like a forbidden addiction. "You're going to be the fucking ruin of me, aren't you, Mattheo?"

"Yes." Mattheo huffed, his breath mingling with yours as he grazed your lips once more. "Does that scare you, princess?"

"Yes," you admitted, your hands instinctively slithering around his neck, words leaving your lips without thought. "Everything about you scares me."

Your confession hung heavy in the air, your fingers instinctively curling around the fabric of his jacket. His response was a low, rumbling purr that sent shivers down your spine, the intensity of his gaze burning into your soul.

"I can't believe you just said that, Raven..." he husked, his grip on your waist tightening possessively. His lips brushed against your jawline, sending electric currents through your skin. "You don't even know how fucking hard that just made me."

Your eyelids fluttered, heat pooling between your thighs, as his touch ignited a wildfire within you.

"You're fucking insane..." you breathed, your fingers digging into his jacket, desperately trying to ground yourself in the midst of the overwhelming desire he stirred. "I don't know how you do this to me..."

"It's useless to fight it, princess," he purred, his teeth grazing your pulse, each touch seemingly branding you as his. "I've already made you mine."

"Your toy," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "You've made me your toy."

"Yes, my toy." He growled, his grip intensifying. “Mine...all fucking mine..."

Under the moonlit sky, the Astronomy tower stood silent, the night air thick with a dark lust. His teeth sank into the sensitive skin of your neck, the cool breeze caressing your heated skin, intensifying the pleasure-pain sensation coursing through your veins. Your head fell to the side instinctively, the distant twinkle of stars above bearing witness to the passion igniting between you. Your body trembled under his touch, the night itself seeming to shiver in response to the escalating desire enveloping you both.

With a sudden intensity, he cupped your face in his hands, his touch both possessive and oddly gentle. His dark eyes bore into your soul, their intensity searing into your skin.

"Are you sure you're good with that, Raven?" he demanded, his voice low and raw. "You're good with being my little toy? You're good with continuing this with no strings attached?"

"Yes," you murmured.

"Say it." He said, vibrations of his chest rumbling through you. "Say you're good with it."

"I'm good with it," you said. "I'm good with being your little toy, I'm good with no strings, no bullshit-"

Cutting you off, his mouth crashed onto yours, a hungry, fervent kiss that seemed to convey years of pent-up desire--it was as if he had waited his whole life to kiss you, his lips molding perfectly against yours, igniting a fiery passion that consumed the both of you with ease. His lips moved with a purpose, a desperate need that mirrored your own--the air crackled with anticipation, your heart pounding in your chest as you surrendered to the intoxicating pull of his lips, the heat of his body pressed against yours.

You were lost in him, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating blend of pleasure and need. The world ceased to exist, and there was nothing but the electrifying connection between your lips, binding you to him in a way that felt inevitable, unstoppable, and undeniably right. His kiss was a storm, wild and unrelenting, consuming you entirely, moving with a fierce hunger, his tongue seeking entrance, and you welcomed him eagerly, your mouths dancing in a heated tangle of desire.

As he deepened the kiss, the intensity grew, an inferno raging between you. Every touch, every taste, every second seemed to set your skin ablaze, leaving you breathless and aching for more. Your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him impossibly closer, as if trying to merge your souls through this kiss--the two of you shifting positions until you were straddling his lap, the feeling of his erection pressing against your centre pulling a guttural groan from your throat; his fingers digging into your skin in response.

With a gasp, he broke the kiss, his lips leaving a trail of searing kisses down your neck, igniting a fire wherever they touched. Your head fell back in response, exposing the vulnerable curve of your throat to him. His hot breath fanned over your skin, sending shivers down your spine, as he pressed soft yet possessive kisses along the column of your throat. His lips moved with purpose, exploring every inch of your neck as if it held the secrets to the universe, his tongue flicking out occasionally, teasing, before his teeth grazed your skin, a promise of both pleasure and pain. Each touch sent shockwaves through your body, amplifying the intensity of your connection, as you clung to him, lost in the whirlwind of desire and need.

"I want to make you cum again..." he murmured against your skin, his hands gripping your hips and pressing you down against his crotch. "I want to make cum over and over, fuck..."

"Matty..." you moaned, his teeth grazing your pulse, your hips rolling against his lap involuntarily, a soft gasp escaping your lips as his hands moved to your ass; squeezing with malicious intent. "Shit...we can't...not here..."

"I know." He groaned, his hot exhale showering your skin. "Wednesday."

"Yes..." you breathed. "Wednesday."

—————

Here’s chapter nine->

961 notes · View notes

in-another-april · 9 months

Text

─ desire | s.r

summary/prompt + genre - reader is down bad distracted by spencer during work | suggestive(ish) fluff

warnings - ending alludes to smut, making out

wc - 804

notes - this is literally just me shamelessly thirsting over spencer for 800 words im not sorry

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Since the day you met Spencer, there hasn’t been a moment you haven’t found him overwhelmingly attractive in all aspects. You were sure your dire levels of infatuation would slow down once you started dating, but even now it almost feels impossible not to practically swoon every time your eyes meet.

From his dorky dress shirts paired with his dark blazer and perpetually crooked ties, those honey-brown eyes that are constantly swimming with emotion, up to his gelled hair that only you have the privilege of running your fingers through as he cuddles up to you before bed every night, you’re infinitely grateful you get to call him yours. What’s more, that’s only covering his physical attributes, as you’re sure if you start thinking about everything you like about his personality you’ll be thinking for hours, something you’d be more than okay with doing if you didn’t have work to do.

It feels as though it hurts to tear your eyes away from him, but you don’t have much of a choice if you want to avoid being reprimanded by Hotch for straying from your tasks. It’s a relatively laid-back casework day at work, something you’d appreciate for its simplicity compared to field cases. That is, it would be easy, if your mind wasn’t stubbornly reverting back to thoughts of Spencer every time you tried to focus on your work. It’s an added level of torture knowing he’s right there at the desk next to you, flipping through his files effortlessly, unaware of the battle over him occurring in your head.

You finally manage to force your focus onto your work, only to be interrupted moments later by Spencer standing up from his desk and heading towards the coffee maker, your gaze following him the entire time. You mentally curse yourself for acting like a lovesick teenager whose thoughts revolve around their partner like they’re the sun in their solar system, and you have to act surprised when Spencer places a cup of coffee on your desk as if your eyes weren’t trained on his movements since he left his desk.

“I thought you might need some more coffee,” He speaks, bringing his own cup to his lips. “To finish all of that, I mean.” You follow his stare to the stack of files adorning your desk, mouth gaping as you notice how much taller it is compared to everybody else’s, never realizing just how fast time flies when you’re daydreaming about your boyfriend. “You okay? I can take some of those for you if you want.” He offers, the gesture unintentionally making the situation harder, causing your heart swell with love even more than before.

“You don’t have to.” You shake your head, biting your lip. “I’ve got it, really.” You roll your eyes as you see him swipe a few of your files off the top of your stack anyway, giving your shoulder a loving squeeze before taking off back to his desk. You mumble your thanks for both the coffee and him lightening your file load before returning your focus to your papers as best as you can.

Despite how you (surprisingly) make it to the end of the day with minimal distracting thoughts, you’re still as eager to get home as you were before, knowing the car ride home is going to feel excruciatingly long. You bounce impatiently on your heels as you wait for Spencer to pack up, practically yanking him to the elevator and ignoring the look Morgan and Emily share from your actions.

As soon as you make it past the threshold of your shared apartment, you allow yourself a breath of relief to leave your lips before promptly smashing them onto Spencer’s as you press his back against the front door, reveling in the shocked noise he makes upon impact. Despite his initial surprise, he tilts his head to return the kiss, trying to keep up with your fast pace as he cups your face in his hands. Your breath hitches in your throat at the feeling of his soft skin, eyes squeezed closed as your tongue moves to part his lips. It doesn’t get far, though, and you whine at the loss of contact as he pulls away to breathe.

“Where, uh-” he starts, clearing his throat, “Where did that come from?” He asks, face flushed and breathing heavily as he presses your foreheads together.

Your eyes immediately flit away from his, uncharacteristically shy as if you weren’t just sticking your tongue down his throat, “I just… I need you.” Is what you settle on, mind too fuzzy to think of a more eloquent explanation as your hands move to grip his arms.

His face flushes a deeper shade, moving your face to look at him again as he stutters out an, “I’m all yours.” before leaning in again.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer x reader #criminal minds x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #x reader

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stxrrydreamss · 1 year

Text

Aizawa/Hawks/Dabi/Bakugo

They find out you were in a car accident.

Part 1, Part 2

Authors note: I’m taking a little break from writing Kilonova to work on some other stories for fun. I got this idea from driving on the highway in the rain and I ended up hydroplaning a few time. Thankfully no cars were around me. This took me a few days to write, so I hope you all enjoy! I even made the gifs myself :)

•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧.˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. ˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩.

It was late and dark as I made my way home. Heavy raindrops began to pelt at my window and gradually increased in speed and size until, eventually, I had to hit my brakes due to being unable to see ahead of me. As I brake, I feel my car lose traction and start to hydroplane. I tried to stop my car from spinning by pumping my breaks and turning in the opposite direction before a black SUV that was unable to see in the heavy rain slammed into the back end of my car and turned away before another vehicle that was also unable to see hit me head-on, I brace for impact as my car flips, and I lose consciousness upon landing.

Aizawa

Shouta was finishing his shift when he received a call to respond to a three car accident nearby. Shouta accepts the job and hastily makes his way over. He had faintly heard the crash about ten minutes prior, and despite most of the sound having been drowned out by the rain, it still sounded nasty. He didn't expect to see your car amongst one of the few involved in the accident. The SUV had pulled over further down the street, and the vehicle's front end was destroyed; the other car, the red sedan that hitthe front end of your car, was totaled as the front end was missing, and the sides were scraped from flipping over onto its side and sliding.

Both drivers were okay with minimal injuries. You, on the other hand, were finally being pulled from the wreckage of your car with no status as of yet to your condition. There was debris from your vehicle scattered all across the road. The roof was caved in, the front end was smashed and caved in where the sedan had crashed, and the back end was caved in as well from where the SUV had struck your car. He stood in shock and covered his mouth to prevent himself from crying in front of all these people working hard in the pouring rain to help those involved in the accident.

He couldn't let his emotions out right now. He needed to do his job. He quickly gathered intel from the paramedics, who explained that the black SUV reportedly saw them hydroplane but failed to avoid their car. The one in the red sedan had been speeding under the influence and had also failed to prevent their vehicle from crashing into them. Upon hearing about the red sedan, Shouta was furious, but he needed to know if you were okay. Shouta left the plice and paramedics to do their job with investigating and tending to the two involved in the accident as he made his way towards you.

Shouta swore he stopped breathing upon finally seeing the wreckage of your car up close. Blood was all over the airbags and seats, the door had been pried open with the jaws of life, and he grimaced at the sight of one of your teeth sitting in a puddle of blood on the car's roof. The ambulance that had you rushed off a while ago. He had no idea if you were dead or alive, which scared him beyond belief. All sense of reasoning was out the window as he continued staring at the wreckage. They wouldn't take a deceased body to the hospital. Would they? Shouta snaps back to reality upon hearing an officer calling out to him once more. He blinks a few times and turns to the officer to begin exchanging information and to finish handling the situation as soon as he can so he can rush to the hospital.

Hawks

Keigo had finally arrived home after a long shift. He shook the water from his wings before entering your shared house. Keigo looks around the house for any sign of you, only to see you haven’t arrived home yet. He wasn’t worried. You were probably stuck in traffic with all this rain.

Keigo yawns as he stretches his hands before heading towards the bedroom. He places his headset and glasses on the dresser beside his bed before grabbing a pair of clothes and heading toward the bathroom. He turns on the shower before stripping himself of his soaked uniform and jacket and stepping into the shower. Keigo sighs, and his feathers puff up from a shiver running down his spine due to the contrast of the warm water against his cold skin. He relishes the newfound warmth and relief as he rubs at the sore parts of his body before finally deciding to wash.

Keigo grabs the bottle of shampoo when he hears his phone go off. He ignores it while leaving a mental note to check out who it is after he gets out. He begins washing his hair, and as he finishes rinsing his hair out, his phone rings again. He ignores it again while continuing to shower. Once he’s done, he steps out and grabs a towel.

As Keigo begins drying himself off and wrapping the towel around his waist, he grabs another towel beneath the one he had just held and begins to dry his hair. Keigo then proceeds to grabs his phone from the bathroom and returns to your shared bedroom. He unlocks the phone and plays the voicemail left by the person who had called him before putting the phone on speaker and placing it on the bed before standing back up to finish drying off and putting his sleepwear on.

“Hello. This is Yuriko Harusa calling from the hospital regarding your fiancé (Y/n) (L/n)-“ Keigo freezes upon hearing those words and rushes back over to his phone, running his fingers through his hair to moves his bangs from his face as he does so. “(Y/n) was involved in a car accident and is here with us in surgery. We would appreciate it if you could come down to the hospital to provide some information so the doctor can speak to you about further procedures-“ Keigo hung up the phone before the voicemail could finish. He was running to grab his keys from the nightstand and rushing out to his car.

Dabi

Dabi had been waiting patiently in your screened-in back patio to get home. He was falling asleep in your swinging chair, cuddled up in the throw blanket you left folded neatly on the seat, half asleep from watching the rain fall and the waterfall from the gutters fall to the ground in an odd melodic tune. He looks down at his burner for the time, and his eyes narrow at the number isolated across the screen. 10:42 P.M., it read. It would have been nice if you were here an hour ago. Dabi’s cyan eyes grow dark.

What could’ve happened to you? Did a villain get you? Did a hero catch on and take you in for questioning? His big question was whether or not you were okay. With that, he stands up from the swinging chair on the patio, folds the blanket before placing it back on the seat, and pulls his hood up before exiting the enclosure and into the pouring rain.

Dabi pouted angrily as he walked down the street towards the road you took home from work, now soaked from the pelting rain. Dabi had been walking for a good half an hour before he froze upon turning the corner and quickly hid back behind the wall of the building he had just turned around. The police lights caught him off guard. He slowly peeks around the corner to see if the coast is clear, but his eyes rest on the tow truck hauling your car away. The vehicle was ultimately destroyed among the other two cars on the lift.

Dabi’s eyes widened in shock, and he felt the urge to throw up from the sudden rush of emotions from his chest. You were not okay. He should’ve just ignored you and waited outside of the building you worked at so that he could’ve been there for you. No. Thankfully, he wasn’t in the car because then things would have been a lot worse.

If he would’ve been in there, your relationship could’ve been compromised, and both of you would have had to face the law. He’d instead you be injured than you facing a life behind bars because of his foolishness. You didn’t deserve that. Dabi’s skin hisses as his quirk activates due to his overwhelming anger, worry, and despair he was in. You were fine, right? You were just roughed up. You’ll be home soon.

One of the officers turns his head upon hearing the odd sound of hissing and begins walking in the direction of the noise. The officer sees a black figure disappear behind the corner of the building and he quickly reaches for his pistol before bolting. As the officer turns the corner, there’s nobody there. He looks around, confused, and looks down to put his gun away before stopping upon seeing a single drop of blood on the concrete being washed away.

Bakugo

Bakugo had been handling a few villains with strong quirks, one of which could control vehicles. The other two had already been apprehended, so all that was left was this villain before him. As he went to blind him with a blast so Izuku could successfully capture him, he heard a screech and a crashing noise.

“Shit!” He yelled as he finally blinded the enemy so Izuku could use black whip to restrain him.

“Could you please check on the civilians!” he yelled as he had his hands tied with the villains. Izuku then dialed for backup to escort the villains to jail and for some ambulances to tend to the injured.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm on it.” He yelled before blasting off towards the direction he heard the crashes. He stops at a black SUV first, ensuring the family inside we're okay. He rushes over to the man in the red sedan, who is dazed, but seems fine besides a possible concussion. Katsuki was not ready to see your car in the wreckage.

“Baby! Hey!” He shouts as he sprints as fast as he can to the car. It was flipped, and you were hanging upside down in your seat, unconscious. He quickly assesses the situation before pressing a hand to his headset to relay the situation to Izuku. “There were three cars. A black SUV with a family who seems alright, a red sedan with a man possibly with a concussion, and (Y/n) is unconscious among the wreckage of her vehicle.” He shouts quickly.

“Is she okay?” Izuku asks through the speaker.

“She better be fucking okay. Otherwise, I will handle that villain myself. ” Katsuki growls through his headset. He hoped that damn villain would get life in prison, at least. He didn't want to see that villain's face again; otherwise, he'd be a bloody mess of a pulp.

“I'll handle the rest once these villains are arrested and taken away. You can go with her to the hospital.” Izuku replies.

“Hey, come on, baby!” Katsuki cries out as he reaches through the shattered glass to unlock the door and gently unbuckle your seatbelt, catching you in the process. You were cold. “Shit.” He says in shock. He quickly carries you beneath the awning of a building before placing you down on your back and checking for a pulse. You didn't have one.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Katsuki yells out. Tears are now brimming in his shocked eyes, but he tries not to let them fall. “She doesn't have a pulse!” He yells through his headset as police sirens break the sound of the rain. He immediately starts CPR.

Katsuki’s hands are crossed onto your chest as he begins pumping it before pulling away and breathing into your mouth, repeating the cycle. “Come on. Come on!” He yells while pumping your chest again desperately before moving to start blowing into your mouth again. His heart is racing in fear. He didn't want to lose you. You didn't deserve this. You can't die like this. If only he were faster, you would have been fine. Katsuki didn't know how long he had been repeating the process and when he had started pleading and crying. It was a blur. The ambulance was taking you away. Izuku was ripping him away from you. Izuku was restraining him with black whip as he desperately tried to get to you. It was all blurred in his memory as he now sat in the living room of Kirishima’s house.

Kirishima sat with his legs spread and hands clasped between them, leaning forward as he watched Katsuki. Beside Kirishima was Izuku. Izuku was sitting similarly to Kirishima; only his l hands held his head in exasperation. Katsuki was catatonically sitting across from them on the couch. His eyes narrow and dark, staring at the floor. Izuku had brought Katsuki over to Kirishima's house to get him to calm down and de-escalate the situation.

Kirishima had hurriedly let them into his house and gave the two boys towels to dry off in. Izuku wasted no time drying off, but Katsuki ignored him and instead plopped himself down on the couch where he remained, not moving a centimeter. All he could think about was whether you would ever be home in his arms again.

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cemeterything · 1 year

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is all true crime bad? genuine question. not referring to the very obvious disrespectful ones that are usually brought up when discussing the topic but rather documentaries and things of the sort. I feel like a lot of the documentaries around real crimes I watched bring up issues that aren't really talked about and a lot of the times are covered by institutions/media and also inform people on various things that they probably wouldn't have been aware otherwise so to me they can be very informational. there's also cases where victims of abduction for example have been recognised years later because of media like this which is objectively a good thing so I would like to know a little more about other negative impacts that might not be so obvious. if you have any source I can research on that's also great. sorry to bother!

i think that "true crime" in itself is a nuanced and varied topic and have no intention of tarring everyone who has an interest in it with the same brush, because there are definitely respectful ways of engaging with it that do their best to avoid and minimize harm. however i think that the popular culture depictions of true crime and capitalization on it as a form of entertainment tend to do more harm than good to both victims, who are frequently exploited for "content" and/or have their trauma dredged up for consumption, and consumers/producers, since a lot of mainstream true crime media reinforces harmful stereotypes, paranoia, surveillance tactics, and social divisions, and sensationalizes human cruelty and suffering. not to mention that this kind of approach to and fascination with horrific crimes and unusually cruel and violent criminals may encourage more people to inflict violence on others in order to gain notoriety and fame.

i don't think it's wrong to be interested in these things and to want to understand what makes people do horrific things to other people. one of my hyperfixations is the history of decapitation/capital punishment and its legacy, which is a topic that is fraught with issues surrounding the abuse of some of the most marginalized and vulnerable members of society. i myself am fascinated by it partly because of my own past experiences with abuse and marginalization. being interested in unpleasant things doesn't make you inherently a bad person, and thought crimes don't exist. however it's really important, especially when it comes to topics like this, to be self aware and critical of the information you're given, and to be careful not to be taken in by popular opinion and stereotypes without questioning them, or to get so immersed in your pursuit of knowledge and understanding that you lose your grip on reality and fall victim to misinformation and bias. believing too strongly in your personal ability to recognize and identify criminals and "criminal traits" and "solve" crimes, especially when the justice system is as flawed as it is, is more likely to lead to incorrect assumptions, the persecution of the marginalized and vulnerable, invasions of privacy and miscarriages of justice than it is to help.

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cheeekycharchar · 8 months

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"Shame and guilt have followed humanity since Adam and Eve disobeyed God in the Garden of Eden."

Good Omens; a story of an Angel that can't accept love because of shame and a Demon that can't accept forgiveness because of guilt.

"It'd be funny if we both got it wrong, eh? If I did the good thing and you did the bad one."

An in-depth analysis of an Angel suffering from shame and a Demon wracked with guilt.

Let's dive deeper below the cut!

[Now I'm going to lay down a lot of facts, definitions and minimal psychological babble and I want you, as the reader, to view this through your GO nerd glasses. Also, I want to express that I am not a therapist or religious in any way- this was all done as academic research for the fandom's sake cause I can't shut my brain up. I tried to organize it the best I could. ..sorry it's so long but I swear it's worth the read through! ;)]

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• Shame is the painful emotion you have when you perceive that you are not good enough in some way. Entirely self imposed and only known to you, shame can be an unpleasant self-conscious feeling often associated with negative self-evaluation. When shame is chronic, it makes you believe that you are fundamentally flawed, defective, dishonorable, immoral, or improper.

• Guilt is a negative feeling of worry or unhappiness that you get because you have done something wrong. It's a moral emotion that occurs when a person believes or realizes- accurately or not- that they have compromised their own standards of conduct or have violated universal moral standards and bear significant responsibility for it. When guilt is chronic, it can be a toxic emotion that could cause a person to take on unjust responsibility if things around them go wrong. They are quick to accept that everything is their fault even though it isn't.

While guilt is about wrong actions, shame is about being wrong as a person.

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In academic psychology, shame is associated with avoiding failure and its consequences while guilt is connected with forgiving and improving one's self, along with making amends.

Guilt and Shame are often confused for each other but there’s a big difference between the two. Guilt can help you understand how your actions impact others, but shame is an inward-facing emotion that reflects how you feel about yourself. (And I do realize that Aziraphale may, at times, feel guilt and Crowley can also feel a sense of shame. But the main motivation behind majority of their characterizations and actions throughout the series are both coming from these two different feelings.)

Guilt can help you move forward while shame keeps you stuck in the past. [such as the "We could have been.. us." and "You go too fast for me." scenes] And the only way to rid themselves of these negative emotions is through recovery with unconditional love and forgiveness.

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• How Aziraphale represents the concept of shame •

Shame tricks you into believing that you aren't good. That you are worthless. Not that you've done something bad, but that you are bad. Ever since Aziraphale gave away his flaming sword, he started to question himself. But it wasn't until he outright lies to his fellow Angel's about the true fate of Job's children that he truly believes he has fallen- that he violated God's word and lied (again). He believes there must be something truly wrong with who he is as an Angel. He's a flawed creation of God and he feels a dreaded sense of deep shame from this.

Feelings of shame can also present itself in different types such as, Chronic Shame (negative emotions all the time that you aren't good enough), Performance Shame (feeling as though you are inferior compared to others) and Shame from Unrequited Love (this is a feeling of not being good enough for another person T^T).

Shame is a harmful, negative emotion that when internalized enough can result in an overly harsh evaluation of oneself.

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Next, let's take a closer look at what defines shame and how it operates through Aziraphale:

• Being Defensive is a way to avoid taking responsibility for our behavior.

"I don't need you." "And the feeling is mutual!"

• Perfectionism is the unrealistic desire to be perfect and is often a defense against shame. If we’re perfect, no one can criticize us; no one can shame us. We keep up a front that looks good to the world. We may spend a lot of time attending to our dress and looks.

"I do have standards."

• Apologizing constantly. Shame can prompt us to be overly apologetic and compliant.

"I did the 'I was wrong' dance in…"

• Procrastination can occur from a deep hidden shame. If we consider pursuing something and it doesn’t turn out well, we might be paralyzed by that feeling. If we never try, then we don’t have to face possible failure and subsequent shame.

"You go too fast for me, Crowley.."

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Next are the four category behaviors resulting from shame:

• The Hot Response These are things you do when you feel ashamed and defensive, such as lashing out in anger or attacking the other person to deflect attention from yourself.

"I don't even like you!" [always resorts to being defensive in any argument]

• Behaviors to Cope With or Conceal the Shame These behaviors include doing things to make yourself feel small, trying to avoid being the center of attention, or not sharing your thoughts or feelings. Concealing yourself is a method of self-protection.

[always awkward and can't speak openly around other Angels]

• Safety Behaviors to Avoid Shame or Being Discovered This category of shame behaviors might be things like apologizing, crying, or avoiding conflict. People who have a tendency toward being emotional or avoiding conflict may be more likely to engage in safety behaviors.

"Why? What's wrong? I mean.. if there is something wrong.."

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The Impact of Feeling Shame:

• Makes you feel like you are flawed or there is something wrong with you

"I'm like you now. A demon. I'm a fallen angel.." • Can lead to social withdrawal

[spends most of his time in the bookshop alone] • May cause you to become defensive and shame others in return "I'm an angel! And you're a demon!" • May cause you to inflate your ego to hide the belief that you don’t have value

"Well, I am a great deal holier than thou. That's the whole point." • May leave you feeling empty, lonely, or worn out

"But I thought you said it wasn't [lonely]?" • May lead to lowered self-esteem

"I'm.. soft." • May make it harder for you to trust other people

"Obviously, you're lying. You're a demon. That's what you do." • May lead to perfectionism or overachievement to try and counteract your feelings of shame

"If I can just reach the right people and resolve all of this-" "That's not going to happen! How could somebody as clever as you be so stupid!?" • May cause you to engage in people pleasing

"Doing good again, Angel? "Oh, hardly counts. Purely for selfish reasons." • May cause you to avoid talking because you are afraid to say the wrong thing

[trying to explain to Metatron in S1 without revealing too much] • May cause compulsive or excessive behaviors like overworking, excessive cleaning, or having too high of standards in general

[non stop research all day and night to look for the antichrist by himself]

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• How Crowley represents the concept of guilt •

Guilt is what you feel after committing a specified or perceived offence/crime/bad action. It's typically attached to a feeling you experience when you do something wrong on purpose or accidentally and can regret that action. Guilt can be morally ambiguous.

"Well, maybe there is something to be said for.. shades of grey?" "..Shades of dark grey."

Signs of guilt are unique but these are the most common (again there are many but these I thought related to Crowley the best):

• Low self-esteem

*sighs* "Don't bother..."

• Excessive attempts at reparation [Crowley always trying to secretly help humanity when he can]

• Being unable to meet someone’s gaze

[Covering his eyes not only hides his snake eyes but also his guilty feelings]

• Anxiety "We are fucked!" [and we all know TV!Crowley is 100% more anxiety ridden than Book!Crowley is lol]

• Trouble sleeping [Sleeps too long (100 year nap from book). Or can't get comfortable sleeping (from S1 deleted scene)]

• Depressed mood

"What's even the point.. everything seems.. pointless.."

• Avoidance of people, places, or events linked to the cause of guilt "I'm not going to be joining their team and neither should you!" [doesn't want to return to Heaven or Hell and is "on his own side" to avoid them further] • Shifts in energy levels [can be giddy/jumpy one second to morose/moody the next, etc]

• Emotional outbursts

"I'm just so angry!"

• Appetite changes

[took up drinking alcohol even though its unnatural to]

• Making amends [spends every moment since Eden trying to secretly do good despite the hellish consequences]

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Defense mechanisms against feeling guilty can become an overriding aspect of one's personality. (These are also related to trauma response.)

• Displacement is a defensive tool that may take the form of blaming the victim or taking your feelings out on others.

"You know what you've done. You've disappointed me."

• Projection is sharing the unacceptable feelings/qualities onto others, thereby being less alone with it.

"But that sounds.." "Lonely?"

• Self-harm may be used as an alternative to compensating from one's past transgression. Not just physical self-harm but not allowing yourself to enjoy opportunities or benefits as a result of uncompensated guilty feelings.

[always holding himself back for 6k years from saying what he truly feels and won't allow himself to be with Aziraphale the way he really wants]

• Repression is subconsciously blocking or forgetting harmful/traumatic memories. "Right.. looking at where the furniture isn't.." [doesn't remember his time in Heaven in detail- whether from trauma response or just had his memory wiped]

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Behavioral responses to guilt can be associated with the moral of their character. Feelings of guilt can prompt virtuous behavior.

"You shouldn't test them to destruction.."

People who feel guilty may be more likely to: • Exercise restraint [holds his true feelings back for Aziraphale for centuries]

• Avoid self-indulgence [only really has his car and plants in the end]

• Exhibit less prejudice [is more open and accepting of other's sins - such as helping during the Scottish bodysnatching scenes]

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Guilt can prompt reparatory behaviors (actions to make amends) to help alleviate these negative emotions. People tend to engage in these reparatory behaviors toward the persons they wronged. Some religions theorize that forgiveness of sin (even those committed by accident or ignorance) is exclusively through repentance.

Crowley, being the wily serpent that tempted Eve to eat the forbidden apple of knowledge and subsequently getting her and Adam kicked out of paradise on Earth- and thusly creating the first sin of humanity. Right away, Crowley feels guilt from this.

After all, he was just told to stir up some trouble and had no idea the consequences of his first temptation on the future generations of human existence. Ignorantly doing something considered wrong and getting exiled.. this mistake would forever haunt him. He knows the pain and trauma from unwittingly doing something insignificant and being punished severely for it (such as asking questions or eating an apple) yet he accidentally made the first of God's new creatures "fall" in their own way from Eden. It's because of this guilt that Crowley spends the next 6000 years secretly rebelling against Hell to help humanity in any way he can to redeem himself.

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That's why their first conversation (post Fall from Heaven) on the wall of Eden was SO important to their relationship with each other and themselves.

"Oh, I do hope I didn't do the wrong thing." "It'd be funny if we both got it wrong. If I did the good thing and you did the bad one." "No. No! It wouldn't be funny at all!"

I think the reason Crowley always seems to be one step ahead of Aziraphale (in more ways than one) is because, in a sense, guilt is easier to resolve from than shame.

If you acknowledge your mistake and the person chooses to take the steps to improve and change for the better, then they can recover from those negative feelings. They can work through the guilt by repairing the transgression or learning from it.

Whereas shame can only intensify inwardly and be harder to face because your mind is telling you that you are the bad thing, that you are the mistake. This makes it harder to overcome. And the only way to truly recover from shame is unconditional love and forgiveness- for yourself.

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“Instead of your shame, you shall have double honor, and instead of confusion, they shall rejoice in their portion. Therefore in their land, they shall possess double; everlasting joy shall be theirs.” (Isaiah 61:7)

And in S2.. we can see they both hold regret for their actions at the end of episode 6. If you look at every choice, ever misstep, every argument and their occasional confusion in understanding one another, you can see how Aziraphale was written with shame as a main part of his personality and Crowley written with guilt.

Two feelings that are often confused for one another but differ slightly in their own ways. The motivation behind every word they utter and every action they make throughout the series is built on the foundation of these two fundamentally negative and often traumatizing feelings.

There is a possibility to recover from shame and guilt and I have a feeling that S3's plot line will be all about recovery.

And that's what the concept of that Second Coming storyline might be all about. The New Testament says, "In Jesus Christ, God took upon Himself the sins of the world and died on the cross to pay mankind's debt" (Rom 6:23). "Those who repent and accept Christ's sacrifice for their sins, will be redeemed by God and thus not guilty before Him. They will be granted eternal life which will take effect after the Second Coming of Christ" (1 Thess 4:13–18).

A second chance. Forgiveness and Recovery from Sin.

And what is the story of Adam and Eve if not about humanity's Original Sin?

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Remember, after all is said and done, the antidote for shame is love, and guilt is cured through forgiveness.

Two things a certain Angel and Demon struggle with accepting from each other but are more than willing to give to one another.

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[…There! I made myself sad again, lol. Thank you for reading this far! Sorry it was crazy long but I really enjoyed putting this all together into semi-comprehensible words (though stupid tumblr made me delete a bunch of pictures I had as examples…). Also, on a final side note- if you are ever experiencing overwhelming shame or guilt in anyway (which can result in depression or worse if not dealt with) please make sure you reach out to someone or seek professional help in some way. Take care, everyone! ^-^]

#Good Omens #Good Omens meta #Good Omens theories #Good Omens speculations #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #Crowley #Aziraphale #sorry it's so long.. it was longer #and had more pictures #but stupid tumblr restricted me lol #give me season 3 or give me death #good omens analysis #Neil Gaiman #Terry Pratchett #david tennant #michael sheen #I THINK I CRACKED THE CODE lol

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freyatarotreadings8 · 2 months

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Thoughts and Feelings of Your EX about U

Pick a picture 1 - 2 - 3 -Short reading-

PILE 1

Hello, darling. I hope you are doing amazing! So, your ex may think that you are intelligent, thoughtful and independent. They may see you as a person who is sharp-witted, perceptive and cold hearted. It looks like you are emotionally guarded or distant. You have solid boundaries. Seems like no contact situation or you broke their heart. There may be some unresolved issues between you tho. They remember what you shared and how special you are (yes! sure!) and your relationship was. They may feel an urge to return to you. They even may manifest you back. There is possibility that they will reach out soon. Personal readings are available!

PILE 2

Hello, sugar. I hope you are doing wonderful. Well, your ex may see you as a person who puts in consistent effort and hard work towards your goals. They may admire your dedication, patience and willingness to invest time and energy into various aspects of your life. Your ex may be reflecting on the progress you've made or the outcomes of your efforts together. There may be a sense of introspection regarding your relationship and its impact on both of your lives. They’ve spent time thinking about you and they’ve realized that there is so much that you’ve shared together. Your history means a lot to them. They are able to be truly comfortable around you. However, it's time to move on. There is a minimal chance of reconciliation. Personal readings are available!

PILE 3

Hello, sunshine. I hope you are doing amazing. So, they perceive you as someone who is adaptable and resilient. You may influenced them significantly (or vice versa), brought unexpected change. You are remarcable and unpredicatable. They may think that your relationships were destined to be. I hope you both learned your lessons. Also one day they may think positively about you and another day the opposite such a cold and hot energy. They may feel like you mean the world to them. They aren't over your relationship. They may believe that you represent total emotional fulfillment for them. Reconciliation is possible (they may manifest you back). It all depends on you.

Personal readings are available!

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13uswntimagines · 8 months

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Luh Ooo (Baby!r x Kellex)

Request: First time baby!r says I love you. Basically r is nonverbal and like 3, and preath or Kellex tell her they love her, and it’s the first time r speaks, she says it back

Alex and Kelley considered themselves incredibly lucky every time they saw your smiling face. Every time they saw your lips tilt into a grin, or heard a giggle slip past your lips, they counted their lucky stars that they got to whiteness it.

Their teammates liked to tease them that they were a bit over the top when it came to you, but everyone understood why. Everyone agreed that they would probably be the same way if they had been through what you and your moms had been through.

Alex’s pregnancy with you had been suspiciously easy.

Her and Kelley had both been prepared for the worst after both of their sister’s horror stories about morning sickness and pregnancy cravings that had their husbands running out in the middle of the night. But Alex hadn’t experienced them herself.

The morning sickness had been minimal. It hadn’t lasted at all past the first trimester and hadn’t ruined any of her favorite foods, so she considered it a win. Then the few times she did have midnight cravings, they hadn’t been for food-related items, and Kelley had definitely enjoyed waking up for it (the pregnancy sexcapades were absolutely worth the sleep deprivation).

In hindsight, the 9 months of smooth sailing should have tipped them off that something was going to go wrong, but they had been too wrapped up in the excitement of welcoming you into the world to prepare themselves for the other shoe to drop.

It made it so much worse when it finally did.

Kelley would never forget the moment the nurses laid your little form on Alex’s chest. She would never forget how you blinked up at the both of them and for a second, everything felt right in the world.

For a split second, your tiny eyes met hers and she felt her heart grow to accommodate the overwhelming love coursing through her.

And then…

Their world tilted on its head.

Your eyelids fluttered rapidly, and the whole right side of your face drooped, before either of them knew what was happening the nurses had grabbed you and whisked you away, talking very fast.

Kelley had made a move to follow them, to chase after you and figure out what was going on, but before she could the doctor was back, using big words and describing tests and procedures that he thought were necessary.

The only thing she really picked up on was the word stroke and MRI, and then he was gone again, taking the happiness in the room with him.

Alex pulled her into the bed with her, and both of them held each other as they both fell apart.

Arteriovenous Malformation

A word Kelley and Alex hadn’t understood when the doctor returned hours later.

A word that they googled and re-googled, hoping it would change what it meant.

A word that would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

The doctor said they were lucky because it was near the surface on the left side of your brain. They were lucky because they could operate and remove the tangle of blood vessels that had caused a clot.

They were lucky because it had been caught early before it could cause too much damage.

They didn’t feel lucky.

Not until they were staring at your tiny form through a little plastic incubator box, a large bandage under the yellow knit cap on your head. Not until they could very carefully run their fingers over your puffy cheeks, or have let your little hand latch onto theirs.

The surgery had saved your life, but it had also damaged the part of your brain involved in speech production.

They wouldn’t learn until later how it would affect your development, and they would thank whatever higher power that existed that the only thing that had been impacted was your ability to create words. They thanked the universe that you were such a happy kid despite that.

You loved running around with your many soccer aunts, kicking balls and clapping for your mamas. Just because you couldn’t talk didn’t mean that you couldn’t communicate.

It wasn’t traditional but sign language and the little noises you could make never failed to show the people around you what you wanted.

And while they thanked their lucky stars(and the universe) for the progress that you had made, they both still longed to hear three little words leave your lips.

So yes, the team understood why they were so overprotective and doting. The team understood why they spent so much time working on the assignments your speech therapist gave them, and why they took every opportunity to try and get you to vocalize.

It was why the team tried to help them as much as they could.

*****

You smiled widely as Kelley very gently kicked a ball toward where you were on the sidelines, pushing off of the little blanket you were sitting on next to Bailey (your trusted babysitter).

You clumsily stopped the ball with your feet, steadying yourself with a hand on Bailey’s shoulder and pointing to your Mommy.

You often spent your time on the sidelines, watching your mama’s practice with rapt attention, chasing after stray balls for your aunts and clapping excitedly when anyone ran past you. You knew you weren’t supposed to go onto the field until practice was over, and that any balls that came to you before it had to be returned to a coach.

Kelley’s lips tilted into an indulgent smile and she nodded in encouragement. “Practice is over kiddo, send it back and we can play for a little while,”

Your eyes lit up in excitement, and you didn’t hesitate to kick the ball back toward her.

It rolled towards Kelley and she easily caught it, for a 4-year-old, you had very good aim, and tapped it gently back to you.

You stumbled as you stuck your foot out to stop it, taking an extra second to regain your balance.

“Great job!” Kelley cheered, clapping.

Stopping the ball was something the team had been working on with you (your motor coordination, something Alex and Kelley were more focused on), and you were very slowly getting better at both.

Lindsey joined in, appearing behind Kelley’s shoulder and gesturing to her foot.

Your head tilted to the side and she gestured to her foot again, wiggling it to Kelley’s left.

“Come on kiddo,” Kelley said, and all of your attention returned to her.

You nodded, and hit the ball as hard as you could, toward Lindsey’s outstretched foot.

Kelley kicked out trying to stop it, but Lindsey was faster, collecting the ball and turning to send it toward Emily with a laugh.

“You little monster,” Kelley huffed indignantly, earning a delighted giggle from you and chuckles from the team fondly watching the interaction. “You’re supposed to be on my team,”

You shrugged, pointing to your foot so Emily would pass it to you.

She did, kicking the ball gently (dangerously close to Kelley) and your mommy “missed” her chance to intercept it, so you could catch it instead.

The team clapped when you did, again taking a second to catch your footing before pausing with your foot on top of the ball as Kelley took up a defensive position in front of you.

Your eyes immediately fell to her feet.

You knocked the ball right and then left before sending it through her legs, copying your Mama’s famous move, brushing past Kelley as you raced after the ball.

Several hands extended in case you tripped, even as the team fell into formation behind you.

“I’m gonna get you,” Kelley called as you passed, collecting the ball with your little feet and charging towards the net.

You squealed as Kelley chased after you, doing your best to keep the ball on track as you got closer to midfield.

“Y/n,” Mal called, joining your run, and gesturing towards the wide open space in front of her as Kelley easily gained on you.

You clumsily passed the ball sideways, just as you heard your mommy’s footsteps behind you.

“Come on, it can’t be 6 vs. 1,” She groaned, sprinting towards Mal instead.

“It’s only 5 and a half versus one,” Emily shrugged, taking up your other side as Mal crossed the ball towards Lindsey. “And Mini Morgan is too cute to play against,”

Kelley threw her head back, arching her run to try and get to Lindsey, but it was already too late. Lindsey pushed the ball, sending it in front of Emily so it landed right in your path.

You wobbled as you collected it, slowing down as you nearly tumbled over the ball.

It gave Kelley the perfect opportunity to gain on you.

“Y/n pass it to your Mama,” Lindsey directed, pointing towards Alex making a run to the box as Kelley got closer.

You hadn’t realized your mama was playing too.

She smiled widely, gesturing towards the giant space in front of her, and you slowed your run just enough to kick the ball mid-stride into Alex’s path.

It went slightly off-target, but Alex had no trouble collecting it and sending it into the back of the net.

“Goalllll,” Lindsey, Emily, and Mal cheered as Kelley finally caught up to you, scooping you up and gently tossing you in the air.

“You’re a little gremlin,” She said, ticking you relentlessly even as she tossed you up and down.

You giggled loudly, reaching for Alex as soon as she was close enough.

Kelley passed you to her with little hesitation, and you patted Alex’s cheek. She was always the calmer of the two women, dancing you around but not nearly as much as Kelley did.

You signed goal several times with your little hands and animatedly rehashed the entire play for them as though they hadn’t been watching it.

They both shared a look and smiled gently at you.

“I love you,” Alex said, leaning in and placing a kiss on your cheek after you finished, your aunts circling up around you.

“Luh ooo,” You repeated, tapping her cheek again.

The team froze.

Yes, they had heard you giggle, and cry and make noises, but nothing had ever come close to sounding like a real word.

“Wait,” Kelley said, stepping closer to you, her hand landing on your back and rubbing circles. “Y/n say love you?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Luh ooo,”

“Oh my god,” Alex breathed out and Kelley sniffled next to you, trying to hide her tears.

“We love you too baby,” Kelley said, through trembling lips, kissing the side of your head.

“Luh ooo,” You repeated for a third time, frowning because both of your mommies looked sad, leaning up and placing a kiss on Alex’s nose just like she did any time you looked sad.

“We love you more than anything,” Alex added, doing her best to hold the tears at bay.

She had never been more happy to hear 3 little words in her entire life.

It was everything Kelley and Alex had ever wanted.

“And we love you too, short stack,” Emily said, throwing an arm over Kelley’s shoulder and using her other to tickle your tummy, interrupting the tender moment.

You squealed with delight and wiggled widely in Alex’s arm, signaling that you would very much like to be put down, so you could run around with your aunts again.

Alex squeezed you tightly for another long second before she let you down, kissing your forehead one more time before you ran off.

“She said I love you,” Kelley sniffled, tucking her nose against Alex’s neck once she was upright, both women staring at you.

“I know,” Alex said tearfully.

The doctors always said it was a matter of time. Now, they could finally believe them.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #kellex x reader #kellex imagine

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five-thousand-loaves-of-bread · 1 year

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“people only say i’m low support needs / high functioning autistic because i can speak 🙃” often followed by this is why functioning labels are BS or support needs labels are bad or why they are actually high support needs they just internalize it (while being able to perform bADLs and some iADLs independently on typical day, able to keep own safety, etc).

while able to verbally speak is not the only way to have significant support needs or be low functioning, being nonverbal not required to be high support needs (and also some nonverbal ppl aren’t high support needs),

being nonverbal or nonspeaking or minimally verbal is a significant thing that requires a lot of help, and it often doesn’t exist alone. as in, the people who say the quote above don’t realize nonverbal people are not “just like them but just can’t speak.”

being nonverbal/nonspeaking/minimally speaking/unreliably speaking (unreliable as in apraxia not as in lose speech) by itself is a thing that need significant attention to because need give extra! additional! support to gain functional communication. for most (if not all!) nonverbal nonspeaking people, functional communication is not guaranteed, it doesn’t develop naturally like most speaking people, either because of skills barrier, or external barrier like lack of resources, or both.

so, being nonverbal alone needs often intensive and long term intervention like speech therapy and AAC. even if you do everything right, give the most up to date affirming therapy, learning any AAC takes time, whether high tech or low tech. and they almost always require external help to reach their full communicative potential.

being able to functionally communicate (speech/sign/AAC, etc, but society put most emphasis on speech so you will have easier time if can speak) is such a fundamental part of our lives, it is severely limiting when you don’t have access to it. it inherently puts you at a disadvantage.

but being nonverbal often don’t exist alone.

being nonverbal means you have trouble with expressive language. sometimes that expressive language trouble is just you can’t speak.

but more often, there is more. like trouble communicating with more than one word at a time / multi word phrases / short broken sentences. or have small or basic vocabulary. difficulty remembering words. cannot grasp basic or complex grammar. have trouble find words. etc.

others may have extremely limited expressive language in all areas, even if you give them the best AAC and instructions, give them picture cards and photos, give them pen and paper, etc. yes, there are nonverbal people who may not be able to ever learn most or any form of AAC for it to be functional or reliable.

many nonverbal people may also have receptive language issues and have trouble understanding language. they may not understand the question being asked or the instructions given to them. they may only learn to read picture books with simple sentences, or not learn to read at all.

or, they also have intellectual disability, which affect everything not just language. they may be nonverbal because of their ID. they may struggle with everything above, and have trouble with problem solving, have trouble understand cause and consequence (not just rewards/punishment), difficulty remembering things, developmental delay, etc.

or, they have global apraxia (full body apraxia), or severe dyspraxia, which means they have trouble coordinate movements. they may have trouble dressing themselves, feeding themselves, physically follow directions, fine motor, gross motor, drooling, etc.

i have heard nonverbal people w severe full body apraxia describe it as a brain-body disconnect, their body have mind of its own. their mouth make noises they don’t want to make and cannot control, their body point to “yes” for a question when they mean “no” (so you can see how this impacts AAC use, yes?), their body running around when they just want to be still, etc.

it gets even tricky because! many of our understanding of intelligence and IQ tests require good enough motor skill. they assume that the way you act is the way you are internally. they assume you pointing to “no” when being asked “is the sky blue” if you genuinely not understand color, the sky, or language, not that your body pointed to the wrong thing.

many people w ID have poor motor skills. but many people w severe apraxia don’t have ID.

and this is just things i’ve seen in nonverbal autistic people. there are so many nonverbal people who are nonverbal because of brain damage, genetic disorders, and so on.

not to mention that being nonverbal and not having access to functional communication—not able to communicate what you want, don’t want, boundaries, socialize, etc. is a frustrating experience to say the least. having someone speak over you, make every decision for you, assume you can’t understand (whether you can or not), not even bother speaking to you, talking about you in front of you, etc. and when nothing else works, and you are frustrated and in overload, you meltdown, you “act out” to try to regain control or get others to listen to you, or you act out bc “other people say these things about me that’s not true so i might as well make it true.” then you get labeled with having behavior issues!

so yes, while it’s ignorant for people to dismiss speaking autistics just because they can speak, which is an issue that needs to be addressed, the way many low support needs speaking autistic talk about it is also ignorant.

#originally wanted to go in one direction but ended up going a different one instead??#sorry if the beginning doesn’t really correspond w the rest #actually autistic #actuallyautistic #actually nonverbal #nonverbal #nonspeaking #autism #autistic #🍞.txt

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gravitycircuit · 3 months

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Gravity Circuit has recently hit 60K total units sold!

Never in our wildest dreams did we expect the game to sell as much as it has done in just a few short months. As such, we thought this was a moment to celebrate, with new art provided by @jmanvelez!

Now, you might be asking: why are we taking a moment to celebrate such a specific number? Well, in truth, we were planning on doing a celebratory announcement earlier, at 50K. We were on track to hit that in December, but then the holiday sales happened. Thanks to the holiday sales on various storefronts, we essentially skyrocketed past 50K, climbing all the way up to 60K before the sales were over, so didn't have the time to prepare for it! Goodness, the sales performance just continues to surprise us. All in all, the reception and feedback we have received over these past months have been overwhelming, and we can't thank you, the players, enough. You are the best. Now, you might be curious about the sales distribution among the platforms? Fret not, we have prepared a pie chart for you (based on sales as of January 18th, 2024):

Note: PS4 and PS5 are coupled together due to crossbuy. This means that if you purchased the game on one, you can download it on the same account for the other at no extra cost.

On PC, the game is available on Steam, GOG, Epic Games Store, as well as Stove (Korea). Out of these, Steam is the most popular storefront.

On consoles, the game is available on Nintendo Switch and Sony's PlayStation 4 and 5. The game is also physically available on afore-mentioned consoles, by Pix'n'Love (PEGI), Red Art Games (ESRB) and Oizumi Amuzio (Japan).

Given the amount of wishlists on Steam before the game's release, as well as us getting Steam Deck verified by Valve, PC outselling the other platforms is not a wholly unexpected outcome. Steam is a huge storefront, after all.

But after all the sales across these platforms, what about the reception? Well, even on that front, Gravity Circuit has performed better than even our wildest expectations, as shown by the collage below:

Truthfully, before the game's release some six months ago, we weren't sure about what the reception ultimately would be. As a developer, it can be difficult to distance yourself from whatever project you have been working on for so long, to see the game for what it is. So, ultimately, it was up to you, the players, to determine the game's overall quality. Needless to say, we didn't expect the majority opinion to be this good, both from critics and players alike!

To provide some background: throughout the development, there were a plentiful of sleepless nights, fueled by stress, energy drinks, boatloads of work, and constant lingering doubts about the game's potential success. Creative endeavors while on a deadline are never easy, but we soldiered on, so to try and complete the game to the best of our abilities. Now, months after release, it has been a truly humbling experience that players have enjoyed Gravity Circuit as much as they have. Such a warm reception has made all that effort behind the game worth it. Again, we can't thank you all enough.

Of course, it might go without saying that even with all this positive feedback, the game hasn't been without its own sets of issues. Especially around the game's launch we had to do multiple quick rounds of bug fixes, so to address various situations and oversights that had slipped past us during development and Q&A. While doing all this was taxing, it's perhaps thanks to these rapid, quick responses that have helped minimize any lasting impact that the various game crashes and bugs could have otherwise had.

Essentially, on that point, our policy has been to accept any and all feedback from players with open arms. Whether positive or negative, we have read all points of feedback, and even responded to them wherever we have been able. Ultimately, this back-and-forth discussion with players has then resulted in us implementing various additions and changes post-launch (Speedrun Mode, Armor Paints, Boss Rush, small quality of life additions, etc), completely free of charge. And while we do try, it's not exactly realistic to act or respond to every bit of feedback without fundamentally changing some of the game's DNA. Nevertheless, we do try our best -- and perhaps hold onto the lessons learned for any future endeavors.

In the meanwhile, we at Domesticated Ant Games want to thank you all for all the support so far from the bottom of our hearts -- and we wish you all a good start to 2024!

#gravity circuit #devlog #gamedev #blog

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beesmygod · 3 months

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What are some of your favorite pieces of art/ art that has made you think a lot?

this is such a cheesy cop-out answer, but there's a lot of things that im going to struggle remembering because of 1. how situational the experience was (as in, the context in which i experienced the piece) 2. how wide the word "art piece" is. 3. the great fortune to have been born to parents with strong artistic sensibilities and a love of travel/education. so these are like. really weird and specific but maybe thats the way it should be:

let's start with the most overly dramatic: st. paul's cathedral in london has guided tours where they take you into rooms and let you mill around before moving to the next one. my family took a trip overseas as a really, really big special vacation to celebrate my sister and i graduating from high school (we're not twins, we just combo'd it after she graduated) that i was too brain-broken and teenage to fully appreciate. its a beautiful cathedral but i was in my edgy internet atheist stage and refused to be impressed by it until i stood over a grate in the floor. through the grates you can see the crypt that you visit next. but standing over the grate, someone below started to sing something hymnal and very catholic. and i realized i was the only one who could hear it because of the crowd chatter. and it made me feel, in the moment, so special and so lonely in a way that i still think about, a lot. it was for me only. divine providence.

a date with adam to a place i had no idea existed but he had been to before: the bad art museum, which is split over like 3 different buildings in a bizarre way. we only went to the one where you have to buy a ticket to a movie as entry and it was some truly lovely bad art and made me sad how inaccessible it was but resolute about my love of the nuances of uncelebrated anti-art masterpieces. then we watched "assassination nation" and it was fucking terrible. great date.

reading the theory regarding the "venus of willendorf" being a self portrait as a 20-something year old and running into the bathroom to take my clothes off and look down at myself and having my mind blown. not just by how much i instantly understood it, but because of the tugging feeling on my heart when i feel that strand of history connecting women artists driven by that unknown compulsion to create for creations sake!

similarly, seeing artemisia gentileschi's work next to her fathers and realizing how much she outclassed him in every single way and feeling the tugging feeling again, but this time with a dark woe of realization of how history minimizes achievement and talent when it eases a narrative

reading jane erye's descriptions of herself and her approaches to her plights and for the first time feeling like someone had walked a path that i currently found myself lost on.

reading 1984 as a middle schooler and becoming so angry at the ending i threw the book across the room (something i had never done before and never did again in my life) and stormed out of my room to complain to my mom lol. IT REALLY UPSET ME!!!

reading les miserables for the first time and weeping piteously for days after the ending and having it impact my brain so hard it re-wired how i think about the concept of "legacy" and what it means to matter in the world and how love is nothing without the courage to stand up for it. and that mercy should, and will, always supersede unwavering justice (hard lesson to remember, maybe im due for a re-read)

sneaking into my parents room to read the books i wasnt supposed to yet as a really little kid lol. my mom used to get "dykes to watch out for" in a newsletter she was subscribed to! but i didnt read those bc they were dumb relationship comics for grown-ups. i wanted to read about opus the penguin and lee iacocca, as if i knew who that was. my mother's comic collection was the single most influential constant in my life. knowing that i was exposed to bill watterson's commentary about his own work via the big collections my mom owned probably explains a lot about what's wrong with me. but she also had a lot of berke breathed before he fully wussed out

the general experience of playing a video game that you arent supposed to/when you arent supposed to is probably one of the most freeing means of meaningless rebellion as a kid that everyone should experience. i used to be up playing pokemon past my bedtime under my covers with a huge heavy rubber flashlight i stole from the kitchen and had to replace every morning without getting caught once i was done with it. god, the days before backlit screens we had to get really fucking wild with it. in high school i would wake up at 5:00am, sneak into the computer room where the ps2 was and play an hour of FFX bc its the longest fucking non-persona game in the world, stop playing before my mom woke up at 6:00am and sneak back into bed. if i hit a part where i couldnt save i would just turn the screen off and come back to it tomorrow lol. secrets......

reading the "pictures for sad children" arc about paul, who is a ghost, finally losing it and going on a rant about how it has never mattered how thin a computer screen is. they were right and reading it helped me articulate and understand a growing feeling of restless frustration at the world around me that i felt singular and alone in. im glad that last i heard that artist is doing ok. i hope they recognize the incredible value in their work as imperfect as they perceived it to be. i do not think they would be happy to know that their old work was impactful, but i hope they realize that what people are able to tease out of their work is meaningful, at least to me it is. ill transcribe the comic rather than repost it i think: paul [while smashing electronics]: "have i told you about [bam] how nerds destroy the world take conspicuous consumption as a lifestyle choice and combine it with early hardware adoption and you have great swaths of gadgetry out of stock because they're incrementally better than the last model and there are landfills full of functioning electronics wasted time, resources, money, etc. the best part is that these things were never necessary it has never mattered how thing a computer is." [smash]

this is too long. i like art.

#art #long post

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daisybianca · 1 year

Text

pairing: daniel ricciardo x femalereader

summary: your boyfriend was finally returning back home tonight.

warnings: mostly angst, fluffy moments, mentions of sexual activities, teasing

HE WAS RIGHT. It was definitely colder now. You should have packed a “poofy” jacket.

Daniel’s way of saying “poofy” as he pouted his lips together replayed in your head.

What a dork.

You tucked your hands inside the pockets of your denim jacket and pressed your shoulders together to bundle up. The slim black work pants you were wearing provided minimal wind chill protection, but you forgot to do laundry last night and this was the only pair left. Unless you were planning to show up to a client meeting in jeans. You weren't planning on losing your job anytime soon.

The sun was setting in the background and the sky was doing its magic again. Behind the historic building that towered the city, the pastel purple and pink hues splashed the late autumn sky. Every single purple and pink color was somewhere up there, even the ones that didn’t get a dorky crayola color named after it.

As you got to the steps of the apartment, your phone buzzed in the butt pocket.

Darn it, your hands were just getting warmer.

Danny Bunny: So sorry, but you are going to have to do dinner without me.

With a soft sigh, you stuffed the phone with hands back in the tiny jacket pocket. The text clearly impacted your mood because you were annoyed at your stupid jacket pockets. Why did anyone even bother stitching a pocket if it was only going to fit a third of a normal human being’s hand?

“Just try to look at the bright side.” Danny's ’ voice echoed in your head.

Biting your lips, you ran through the positive scenarios of not having Daniel around. No company for dinner meant that yoy could eat anything for dinner and get away with it.

Thoughts of cinnamon toast crunch and frosted flakes ran through your mind as you seriously contemplated each option as you opened the front door of the apartment. The familiar, but faint scent of leftover morning coffee lingering hit your nose.

You dropped the keys on a small table by the door and dragged your body to the living room. You threw your work bag on the floor and immediately went over to the thermostat.

Daniel was going to kill you, but was it your fault that he was gifted with body heat and you weren't?

You always freezing and having Daniel around was like having a personal space heater, but he hadn't been around the past few months with all those races he was trying to win. And,you were the master of guilt tripping him.

You grabbed your phone and texted back.

Me: I hate you, I miss my heater.

You did. You really did.

You settled on frosted flakes for dinner because you were craving the cereal milk after a bowl of corn flakes.

Yoy also finished the last of the remaining oat milk in the fridge.

You know how people say, TGIF?

Well, in this case, thank god it’s Friday because your fridge needed restocking and you could finish that on the weekend.

When Daniel wasn’t around, it was hard to find time to do anything. Without him, you resorted to what your life was like before he came into it. You resorted back to binge watching random Netflix documentaries and going to bed at 9pm. On days you felt extra adventurous, you would head out to the gym, but that was very rare.

When your boyfriend wasn't around you simply... simply lived kind of mechanically. As if you were a robot trying to survive and live an average, safe life.

You rolled into the couch in the living room and laid there blankly staring at the plain ceiling.

Yesterday, you were hoping that around this time, you and the F1 driver would be getting take out for dinner and bet on who would orgasm first before the food arrived. Loser would have to wear their underwear to answer the delivery guy.

Last time you two played, you gave him the best head ever and he lost before you even got fully undressed. But, he kept on arguing through the entire dinner how he purposefully lost because he didn’t need anyone seeing you in your underwear.

Sure, Danny. Whatever you say.

You rolled to the side and faced the empty TV screen. You thought you had turned it on, but you must have dreamt of doing that because you fell asleep after the last blink in the sweet memories of you and Daniel.

“(y/n).”

Your eyes were too heavy to lift as you were still coming out of the sleep haze, but you certainly knew that voice. Your heart was already thumping, it recognized it too.

“Babe,” Daniel whispered. This time his warm breath tickled your ears. His lips pressed against your forehead and you groaned.

“I hate you.” You muttered and rolled over to the otherside. Your eyes were still pressed closed and you sure as hell was not going to wake up to greet him with happy arms. In your mind, he was a traitor.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).” He was always the first to apologize.

“She’s mad at you,” You managed to get out with all the thoughts screaming inside your head.

“She still loves me.” He replied like how someone would answer “yes” to the question if the Earth was round.

“She does not.” You lied.

“She does.” There it was again.

“Actually, she wants to go back to sleep. That way, she doesn’t have to look at your face.”

His smile turned into a full grin. “You are so fucking cute when you are lying.”

You felt my cheeks growing hotter.

No, (y/n). Daniel is the enemy. Remember, Daniel is the enemy.

Yoy pressed your lips together and narrowed your eyes at him, trying to kick the childish voice out of your head.

“I want to kiss you.” Your boyfriend whispered like you were playing footsie underneath the Thanksgiving dinner table.

You couldn’t resist that.

Yoy closed my eyes and leaned your head forward and felt his soft lips against yours. When yours mouths opened, you tasted coffee in his breath.

Hey, you needed the caffeine kick.

You also tasted the Red Bull liquid.

Your man was supporting his team and you were so proud of him, even though you weren't particularly a Red Bull girl.

Even though you was positive it didn’t work like that, your tongue found his and playfully teased around it. When he pulled away first, you were a tiny bit upset.

Okay, you were very upset, but you sure weren't going to show him that.

He clearly saw the discontent on your face and smiled. “God, I missed your taste.”

“I missed yours more.” You argued.

His eyebrows arched at your desperate thirst response. “You know what else I missed the taste of?”

Then, his eyes shifted across the couch. His eyes looked in the direction of your legs, more specifically, the space between them.

There was your guy. He was back.

Daniel slowly got up from the carpet and sat on the edge of the couch. He slipped his hand into your plain boybrief pyjamas and his finger grazed my cotton underwear.

You already knew you was soaking wet just an inch lower from where his hand rested. And moments later, he found out too.

Keeping his eyes glued on yours, he slowly moved his fingers until yoy felt the warmth of his hand through your cotton underwear. You let out a soft moan from your throat that you couldn’t even control.

This wasn’t fair. You wanted him so much.

You reached out a hand to grab a hold of his forearm. Underneath your grip, you felt the tensing of his individual muscle fibers against your skin, twitching and fighting the urge to rip off your underwear.

“Hey,” Daniel spoke and his velvet voice echoed around the empty walls of our tastefully decorated minimalistic apartment.

“Yeah,” You replied with as your mind was going crazy about the fact that he was really trying to tease you.

“How many licks does it take to get to the center of a lollipop?”

There was a strange moment of silence before yoy both erupted into laughter.

Your happy sounds were echoing around the entire floor.

Other than the fact that this might have been the worst “let’s have sexy time” comment he had ever said, you treasured moments like this. These were the times that lingered around you memories for a really, really long time.

You got up from the couch and tore his hand away. “Okay, Mr. Ricciardo. You definitely hit an all time low with that comment. It really sucks out all the intimacy.”

Daniel moved his body closer to yours and kissed your cheek. “Ironic, it was supposed to get me sucking your pussy.”

The way he said pussy sent chills down your spine. You were getting ready to jump on him any moment now.

“I mean, technically… you can still do that." You replied, nonchalantly.

He smiled and pressed his lips against yours. Your lips went at each other like you were in high school again trying to show off who was the better kisser. It was sloppy, wet, messy, and a lot of biting. It was still perfect.

By the time your boyfriend pulled away, you were both panting to catch your breaths.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and planted a sweet peck on your neck. Yoy wrapped my arms around his neck and he already knew the cue. His arms dug underneath your back and knees. He effortlessly got up from the couch, holding you close to his chest.

Yoy looked up at him speechless as he casually walked you through the hallways and kicked the bedroom door open.

It was dark here too, minus the moonlight filtering through your bedroom window placed on either sides of the bed. He walked over to your massive bed and gently placed you down.

You bit your lip and Daniel dropped his cap first, revealing a messy bed of hair underneath. In one quick motion, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. His pale skin glowed. The moonlight reflected off his broad shoulders and firm chest.

Your heart wouldn’t shut up. It was like you felt that for the very first time. It was Daniel Ricciardo after all...

His body snaked over time and pinned you down between his legs. Each hand tightly gripped your wrists. The heat from his body was pouring down yours. He arched his neck and placed a kiss on your forehead. Then, he moved over to the tip of your nose, your lips, yours chin, and then down on yours neck. His warm breath tickled you. But you liked it. You loved it, to be exact.

“I’m sorry for being late." Daniel paused. "I genuinely apologize for that and I'm truly sorry, angel." He placed a soft kiss on your lips, like he wanted to taste you gently one more time before attacking like a hungry animal. "But, I’m not apologizing for how I’m going to ruin you tonight."

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requests are always open for my wags <3

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