#and I for one. found that strange and off putting

[lizziesfirstwife]

Inevitable

pt.2 to Guardian Angel

jinu x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of death and blood, depressive themes, possessive jinu, thirsty reader, suggestive language, use of Y/N, banter, slow burn, not proof-read

word count: 4807 (sorry not sorry)

authors note: listened to Ms.Whitman by Bhad Bhabie & watched the Korean Pop the Balloon or find Love halfway writing this. Fought writers block like crazy to bring this out, so enjoy! 🤍

Of all the ways to lose a person, death is the kindest.

It was quick. In most cases.

The air smelled of rain and cherry blossom. The hem of her dress was soaked, her shoes wet from running through the soaked grounds of the forest she had been hiding in for the past few hours.

Sunshine crawled its way through the canopy that the trees created. A desperate consolation, sympathy for her impending doom.

Tears streamed down her face, blisters adorning her feet like a plague, blood and mud sticking to them. She wanted to scream. So many things left for her to do, things she had carelessly written in her diary before going to bed.

I don’t know how to fix this.

The ground gave way beneath her, mud crept further and further up her legs, the lower part of her dress now completely wet.

Silence.

She stood still.

The air smelled of cherry blossoms and death. Her hands, which had once been white with cinnamon and flour, were now stained red.

Was it blood?

I fear that I will love you more than I will ever be allowed to.

Her hair had long since come loose from her bun, the strands knotted and frizzy from running through the rain. Her barrette was lost too far away to retrieve, buried under mud and tears.

Birds were chirping. It was supposed to be a gift. She cried when she found out the price of the hanbok, made of lace and pure silk. Pink silk, hand-dyed with chrysanthemums and madder root. Lace, which was reserved for noble brides only.

She wanted to be a bride so badly.

Out of love for you, I have forgiven the world for what it has done to me.

A tear rolled down her face. She would have made a beautiful bride. An extraordinary one.

Now the dress that was supposed to be her wedding dress, was stained full of blood.

Her feet gave way and her body met the mossy forest floor. The sun shone golden down on her, as if to…comfort her.

Horse galloping. Screams.

Her hand closed around the diamond on her necklace, the only thing not stained by her blood.

She had always known that she would die first. It was inevitable.

˙⋆✮

Her cat jumped off the bed when she woke up screaming.

A week had passed since the strange encounter in the bakery.

She hadn't thought about what the encounter might have meant or why the strange man looked so familiar to her. Thinking about it would bring no clarity, only confusion.

Taking a deep breath, she threw back her blanket and took a sip out of the water bottle she had put on her bedside table. It was rare that she woke up before her alarm, but this dream had shaken something inside her that she didn't know was dormant.

After the meeting a week ago, she went to the post office to send her boss a letter demanding her contractual 14 days of paid leave.

Sonder.

The realization that every soul on this planet has their own story, their own pains to carry silently, ambitions that might never come true, dreams that were shattered, love that was forbidden to be expressed.

She wondered what he was doing with his life. Was he a shop assistant like her? No, he hadn't shown enough feigned niceness for that. When you had to deal with people every day and your survival depended on how convinced they were of you, you quickly learned how to manipulate people.

He didn't come across to her as the kind of person who needed to lie to people in order to survive. Maybe health care? Y/N imagined him in a white coat with a stethoscope slung around his neck.

Doctors didn't really lie, they didn't need to. They earned their living without lying to their patients, mostly. There would always be senior citizens with blood pressure problems, young women with iron deficiency, couples with fertility problems, and more than enough accidents.

She bit her lip before spitting her toothpaste into the sink. He would look good in uniform.

The smell of sandalwood and rain caught her nose, a crow cawed outside.

The sun was almost completely up, the dew still fresh, the sound of rain hitting the streets. The truth was, she didn't know why she had taken vacation. She took her necklace from her jewelry box on the dresser and clasped it carefully around her neck. It was an heirloom, at least that's what her great-grandmother told her before she died. It certainly looked old enough. The silver had a few scratches, the diamond hanging from it a bit dull.

Maybe she wanted to sleep in for once, or stop baking any more cinnamon rolls.

She took her perfume bottle, and wrapped herself in a cloud of sakura and dreamy vanilla. Her hair looked dull. The circles under her eyes were darker than usual, her skin dry from the lack of moisturizer.

When she was little, her mother used to say that her beauty was her greatest weapon. Not her knowledge, or her kindness.

Beauty was like a bullet that you could shape until it fitted into a weapon. You could polish it, improve it, maintain it.

Aim.

And fire if necessary.

In a selfish world, only the selfish could succeed. Y/N was never selfish. She didn't have it in her. She wanted to be. Too many cruel people were wronging humanity, too many evil people became successful. It seemed as if people had to hate each other in order to survive day after day, as if there was nothing left for the good souls in this world, nothing for those who recognized the strength in being kind and did not give up being so.

Sometimes she felt like she could snap, shout at everyone who treated her like shit. But did she want to be admitted to a ward? Hell no.

So she didn’t.

Rain beat against the glass of her windows. A sigh escaped her lips, applying the last bit of blush before going to her coat rack. How could it be that it was raining for the seventh day in a row? Y/N looked down and grimaced. She didn't like her rain boots. Not one bit. They weren't ugly, a simple shade of black, but whenever she had to put them on it felt like she was waddling. Just because it was raining didn't mean she wanted to feel like a duckling.

She loved the rain. The sound made her think a little less about just everything, her personal white noise. It was already warm outside, the early morning hours heating up the air. At work, she had no choice but to wear long clothes. It wasn't a company rule, but she had made the mistake of putting on an expensive dress on her first day at work and had to take it straight to the cleaner afterwards.

There was an indescribable emptiness inside her that she didn't know when or how it had taken root, like a virus trying to claim the happiness inside her for itself. She turned away from her coat stand.

She didn't bother to lock her apartment as she walked out the door.

˙⋆✮

It was Sunday again. But the emptiness, the feeling of not having earned waking up, did not rise with Jinu.

His throat felt dry. He hummed a song as he fished a shirt out of his closet, a black one made of silk, and sprayed a little perfume on his neck and in his hair.

He was leaving the bathroom when he paused.

Two steps back, one reach up. He put the bottle of perfume back in the cupboard, now that his wrists also smelled of sandalwood. Jinu didn't know why he even owned perfume. It wasn't as if demons stank, or needed anything other but their sheer will to bring people to their doom.

He frowned as he looked in the mirror. In the past, before his time as a soul hunter, he used to steal pastries from the palace kitchen, breaking them in two and using the contents as a perfume. He knew that no one would understand why he would have done such a thing, when he was in a good position as a musician at court. He didn't have to steal food from the kitchen to smell good. The most extravagant, expensive and unique perfumes in the whole of Joseon were at his disposal.

Jinu shut the bathroom door harder than necessary behind him. There were things in his past that not even he knew why he had done them.

The sun shone bright when he left his apartment. It had stopped raining half an hour ago, birds were flying around, more pedestrians roaming around and prattling than usual.

Even if he couldn't feel hunger himself, human food still tasted good to him. Paying for something in order to devour it made him feel less guilty than actually devouring lost souls.

Cinnamon, cherry blossoms.

He shook his head.

Since their encounter a week ago, he couldn't stop thinking about the woman in the bakery. How she smelled, how she talked, how she looked at him. She didn’t spare him a second glance. She didn’t scream when she saw him, he wasn’t sure if she even recognized him. And strangely enough, Jinu liked that. It was a change from the fans who usually fawned over him and acted like he was their promised husband and father of their future children.

He didn't want to, he didn’t plan to. He just wanted to stop by the next day, seeing if everything was going fine. The smile on her face when he chose the cinnamon rolls were still etched in the back of his mind. But when he peered through the shop window the day after their encounter, she was nowhere to be seen. So he walked around the block. Maybe she was in the back, in the kitchen, or the storeroom. But when he finished his walk and looked through the window again, the only woman in the shop was an employee over 40.

The wind blew through his hair, begging him to return to reality. There was no reason to think about a bakery employee who had simply sold him a cinnamon roll. He didn't want to be a stalker, like those in the movies he had seen becoming popular over the decades.

Jinu bit his lip. If that were the case, he would also have to think about the saleswoman in the clothing store and the manager for their concerts.

But it couldn’t be described as mere thinking anymore. He was almost embarrassed to have so many thoughts about someone who’s job was to offer him a service.

Get a grip.

What Jinu had learned in his more than 400 years of existence, was that peace, reliability, and good company were characteristics he utterly valued in his life. The second and third were areas for improvement, but he implemented the first into his life as best he could. As peaceful as a demon could exist.

He had been on Earth for several weeks now, their mission to destroy the Honmoon as close to being completed as possible. He was here to steal souls, to destroy them, not to care about their well-being. And he was exceptionally good at stealing souls. Demons could see the worth of a soul just by glancing at a person. There were souls that carried no light within them, souls that were not worth saving. Souls with no value.

These souls were easy targets.

There were hardly any souls left with light within them, souls that tried to live, that protected the flame of purpose within them despite the horrors this world carried.

He had never seen a soul like hers before. Pain, hopelessness, buried under an even greater longing to live, to survive.

A soul written in textbooks. Exactly what they needed.

He tilted his head back.

What was wrong with him? She didn't deserve to be seen as an ingredient. She wasn't a puzzle piece he could grab and adjust until the whole picture was right.

He took a deep breath. She wasn't important. There were plenty of other souls. Weaker souls, souls he didn't have to search for. More work for him.

He didn't care.

The wind blew cold as he turned into a quiet street. He wandered aimlessly, no purpose to his walk.

He stopped. Wind blew in his direction, caressing his face with utter care. Was that... no. He shook his head and walked on. Another gust of wind. A familiar scent, surrounding him, enveloping him, caressing him.

˙⋆✮

"And what did you answer to that?"

Y/N took a sip of her hot chocolate and sighed. She hated coffee; the taste was too bitter to drink every day. But she had a penchant for anything sweet. Her parents used to make snaky jokes about the tooth fairy loving her, because she was going to be her most loyal customer with how much sugar she consumed.

"That I didn't see why I should work another 12-hour shift on a Saturday for the third time in a row, alone with the intern, just because he wanted to go to a resort in Incheon with his mistress."

The man across from her laughed and leaned back in his chair.

"How did you know that the woman next to him was his affair?"

Y/N raised her eyebrow. "Women have a much better sense for these things than you think Joon. I have a sixth sense for shady entities. First of all, I knew he was married, because every year since I started working for him, he took a weekend off in June for his wedding anniversary. Second, his real wife was here last year for the reopening after the big renovation.”

Y/N hummed. Her boss’s wife was a real nice lady, small with a kind smile. What a shame to be tied to an ungrateful cheater who you had children with.

“And third... no man who has been married for 30 years would still deal with the trouble of taking his wife away every week and spending an entire spa weekend on her, three times…back to back.”

She raised her eyebrows and poked her apple pie with her fork.

"I hate men. They will say all women are the same, yet they get upset when you point out their oddly similar and reoccurring behavior."

The man shook his head and took a sip of his cappuccino.

“So you’ve given up on them?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. "Difficult to give up something you haven’t even started." Shaking her head, she put her face in her hands.

"I don't know what to do with myself either. On one hand, I don't want to be taken advantage of. I don't want to become one of those crying women who eat tons of ice cream whining about some douchebag. Just thinking about it disgusts me. Being with someone, only for him to break up with me a few weeks later. Or better, a year later! More wasted time."

She sighed.

"But God... I don't want to be lonely. I don't mind being alone, but I don't want to give up the dream of finding someone for myself." Her eyes twinkled as she leaned back in her chair.

"Kind of funny, isn't it?"

Joon just shook his head and sighed. "I'm afraid I can't help you there sweetheart."

Y/N took a sip of her hot chocolate and looked out the window.

"Kind of weird to be the only one not being in a relationship." She shrugged her shoulders and watched people wandering around outside the café.

Her companion eyed her and leaned back in his chair. "You do realize that you're amazing even without someone by your side?"

She laughed, laughed deeply, and put her cup down. "I guess I do. I guess."

Outside, a few teenagers sat drinking juice and eating scrambled eggs with bacon. A mother and her baby sat at a table shaded by a tree, stroller pushed to the side, a cup of steaming something in front of her.

Babies. Y/N hummed and drank the last sip of her chocolate. She always knew she never wanted to have children. The idea of being responsible for another living being, for more than 18 years, was cruel to her. Children were great. She herself had become an aunt two years ago, her older sister now living in Busan with her husband. A niece. Y/N smiled at the thought of her and looked into her empty cup. She loved her, a little angel. But she never wanted children herself. She saw how little time her sister had left for her real family. A repeating pattern.

Y/N shook her head as she looked out of the window again. She would rather put up with 12-hour shifts every Saturday of the week for the rest of her life, than have children of her own.

Her friend sighed and put on his jacket.

"I really hate to leave you alone already, but I still have to pick up the cake for Eric or I won't be able to get everything ready in time."

Eric was Joon's boyfriend from Australia. His family didn't know he was gay, the stigma in South Korea still far too great. You weren't persecuted or arrested for loving the same gender, but it wasn't welcomed. So Joon told his family that Eric was an Erica, and that she was studying in Goyang and therefore couldn't visit him often. His family bought it. He was their only son and they didn't want to scare him away.

Y/N sighed and placed her saucer on his, their cups next to it. "I need to go for a walk anyway. My head's buzzing around like there's no stopping anytime soon." She looked outside and smiled faintly. "Enjoying the five seconds without rain before the flood attacks me again."

Joon laughed and stood up. She looked up at him, stretching as she did the same.

"Is he still calling me halmeoni?"

Joon raised an eyebrow and reached his hand out for their tableware, only to have it slapped away by her hand.

"I could lie."

Y/N rolled her eyes at his answer, somehow managing to put the 2 plates and cups on her left arm.

"Tell the kangaroo I said hi."

Joon laughed and gave her an obscene gesture as he left the café, leaving her behind with the dishes in her arms.

"Idiot."

She shook her head as she placed the dishes on the dish rack. Joon really was a complete idiot, but a nice one. She grabbed her purse and left the café.

The sun was now shining so brightly that she felt ridiculous for taking an umbrella with her when leaving her apartment. Luckily, it was one of those small foldable ones, so she could stow it in her purse.

The teenagers had long since taken off, the weather too nice to stay sitting somewhere the whole time. Y/N frowned. The stroller was still in the same spot under the shaded tree she spotted it in as she looked out the window earlier, but the mother was nowhere to be seen. She hadn't seen her go into the café either.

Y/N sighed and looked to the right and left before approaching the stroller. Her suspicion was confirmed when she spotted a small bundle wrapped in a pink blanket inside, brown button eyes and tiny hands greeting her. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and looked around again.

"Strange."

She looked down at the baby again and turned back to go into the café. One hand wandered to her necklace as she asked the waitress that has been taking her order earlier, if she had seen a young woman enter the café in the last 10 minutes. However, the waitress just shook her head, saying there had been no new guests for 30 minutes.

Y/N frowned as she thanked her and bowed shortly, then went back outside to the stroller. The baby was still lying there, making little whining noises.

She almost wanted to slap her forehead. Of course the baby hadn't suddenly grown wings so it could fly away. But Y/N was glad that no one had taken it.

"I didn't know you had a daughter."

Her body whipped around, bumping into something big and solid.

A chuckle.

“Easy there darling. No need to rush.”

She looked up, an insult already on her tongue, when she faltered. Dark brown eyes. Sandalwood.

"You?"

Jinu laughed as she looked up at him with confused eyes and glanced to the stroller.

"You remember me? Didn’t think I made such a lasting impression on you."

She pursed her lips and looked away.

"I have many customers. Of course I remember those who buy my pastries."

He tilted his head and hummed.

"You look tired."

Her head snapped up, and he quickly raised his hands in appeasement.

"You still look pretty."

His cheeks were now a light pink color, and Y/N had to fight to hide the small smile that threatened to escape her.

He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. "Are you planning to cuddle up to me all day? Not that I'm complaining."

Y/N's eyes widened when she realized that her upper body was still pressed against his, and she quickly took a step back. Or two.

Jinu looked her up and down, and this time it was he who had to smile. "Nice rainy weather outfit."

Y/N narrowed her eyes and looked down at herself. She had put on her black rain boots, which were now making her feet sweat rather than protecting them from the wetness.

And...the dress.

Black with spaghetti straps, barely covering half of her thighs.

Y/N cleared her throat. Suddenly even the little fabric she had on, felt too hot.

"You look good for being an eomma already."

Her eyebrows furrowed before she widened her eyes.

"That's not mine. I think her mother left her here."

Now it was Jinu's turn to look confused.

"She was sitting here the whole time while I was inside with my friend, and suddenly she was gone when I came out. She didn't come back to the café either," she explained.

Jinu frowned.

"Have you called the police yet?"

Y/N sighed. Why hadn't she thought of that?

She just shook her head and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

But the police officer on the phone told her they couldn't send a patrol at the moment. An armed robbery in the city center had required all their officers. If the mother had been gone for more than 30 minutes, they should take the child to the nearest police station and call child protective services, CPS, from there.

Y/N huffed when she ended the call.

Jinu looked at her with a raised eyebrow. He had excellent hearing and could hear everything the man told her on the phone, but of course he wouldn't tell her that.

What harm was there in listening to her voice a little longer?

Y/N threw her cell phone into her purse and sighed as she looked at the now whining baby.

"Police is busy with a robbery right now. Armed and stuff. We're supposed to take her to the nearest station and then call child protective services."

Jinu hummed and nodded.

"But we have to wait another 10 minutes until half an hour is up. He said the mother might come back."

Jinu frowned and shook his head.

"The baby doesn't even look older than 3 months. Who leaves their almost newborn alone in a stroller?"

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. Her heart almost broke as the little girl's cries grew louder.

She tapped her foot on the sidewalk. She looked up at the sky. Watched how the birds flew around the trees.

"Screw it."

She stretched out her arms and carefully lifted the little creature out of the stroller, taking care to support her head, and laid her against her shoulder.

“You! Take my purse and the stroller. I don’t believe a bit that her mother will turn up even if we wait the whole day.”

Jinu raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

If he was being honest, he liked her bossy tone. But only if he was being honest.

He took her pink purse off her shoulder, careful not to touch her arm, and placed it in the stroller.

There was silence between them as they walked down the street. He was all too aware of the stares from passers-by. He had forgotten to pull his hood back over his head, which he had taken off when he spotted Y/N in front of the café.

He wouldn't have minded if she had a child.

He narrowed his eyes and looked at the path ahead as he pushed the stroller in front of him. He didn't need to care about something like that.

He could already see the headlines in the fan magazines. Tilting his head back, he groaned silently. He didn’t want to listen to his groups lash-out tomorrow.

"So I guess you don't have any children?"

She looked up at him, and God, the way she had to crane her neck up to look at him, did something to him. He quickly looked away, but his gaze found hers again immediately.

"Nope. But I have a niece. She's 2, so not quite a baby anymore."

Jinu nodded and looked back at the road ahead. "I have—had a little sister. She was nine." He smiled painfully at the thought of her. "I was over the moon when I found out I was going to be a big brother. Unfortunately, I could never get her to be interested in my hobbies. She was always a free spirit."

Y/N smiled, and he couldn't look away when he caught it. She didn't dwell on the fact that he had spoken of his sister in the past tense, stroking the baby's back reassuringly.

She had no right to probe further.

Relief washed over her as the police station came into view.

Inside, they already knew about their arrival and immediately notified CPS. When the lady arrived, she smiled politely when she saw her before taking the baby into her arms.

"You could almost think it was yours."

She looked at the two of them and hummed a tune as she carefully placed the baby in the stroller and gave her her handbag back. She was fast asleep, tired from the morning sun and the clouds that were now gathering again.

Y/N blushed and wanted to say something, but Jinu beat her to it.

“It was good practice”, he thanked the woman.

Y/N blushed even more, stepping on his foot to make him finally shut up.

Jinu had to bite his lip.

This woman.

No, he would not steal her soul. And should anyone even try, he would banish them to depths deeper than hell.

Y/N sighed as the woman pushed the stroller out to her work vehicle and strapped the baby into an infant seat in the front passenger seat.

"What will happen to her now?"

The woman turned to her and smiled weakly. "Well, she'll probably be placed with foster parents until we find the mother or father. The mother will likely be charged with child endangerment."

She looked at the two of them one last time before getting into her vehicle.

"It's nice to know that there are still good people out there."

With that, she drove away, the child now being in safe hands.

Jinu shuddered.

Good people.

He didn't know if that applied to him. Either of those words.

"What's your name, anyway?"

The soft voice beside him woke him from his thoughts, making him look down at her standing there all squeaky on her tip toes.

"Jinu."

Y/N raised her eyebrow when he didn't say anything else.

God, he was tall. At least 6 feet, muscular through and through-

She cleared her throat.

"And what can I call you?"

She looked up at him and struggled not to lose herself in the depths of his eyes.

His voice was like a hand between her legs.

"Y/N."

Y/N.

He knew the name. Something buzzed inside him, something that had been asleep for a long time.

She cleared her throat and reached for her necklace.

"I guess it was nice to see you again, Jinu."

With that, she turned and walked down the street. Jinu stood still, the sound of his name on her tongue mesmerizing.

Y/N.

This time, she was the one to leave first.

Leaving the other speechless.

Distraught. With an incredible urge not to let the other go.

Then the headlines came.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

Thank you for reading! If you enjoy reading this, I would appreciate a like, reblog, or a comment! I love that there are more stories about the movie out now. I still have to read them all. I’m still hopeful for a second movie <3 Sorry if I forgot to tag anyone, tagging almost took longer than the actual writing ᥫ᭡.

Comment if you would like to be tagged in a potential part 3! Requests for this movie are open ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

What do you think will happen in ch.3? Vote here!

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˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

[saintshadow]

Pick a Card

….... what is your current

🦋 METAMORPHOSIS 🦋

pile i

your outlook & vision are shifting into something way more stable & realistic. you’re becoming less gullible, not in a bitter way but in a “i see through the mirages & bs now” kinda way. you’re learning the difference between what’s real & what’s not. who’s actually down for you vs who’s secretly an enemy. a lot of you are waking up from delusions, misconceptions, & outdated or straight-up unhelpful survival tactics that were passed down from family. this might lead to you cutting off certain family members in the future. you’re releasing burdens, fear, & trauma that were subconsciously and even genetically passed down to you. Some of you could be marrying or having children with some one that has a healthier family than you. This person could also have a family history that doesn’t include genetic mental health issues. This could be a confirmation that your child/children in the future will not suffer how you did. True happiness is attainable. Back to the messages, For some, you will be finding undiscovered family (dead or alive) or connecting with people that feel like found family.

there’s a lot of ancient, ancestral energy around some of you. i gotta be honest though, if you’re not doing the work, not doing veneration or communicating w the ancestors and haven’t ever gotten nudges or messages from spirit around this… then this part isn’t for you. but for those of you who have - the ancient ancestors want more dedication. I’m seeing shells & bones, also land mammals that dig holes? Like a groundhog or a meerkat. I saw a meerkat and meerkat bones specifically. Someone’s family could be Nigerian I’m hearing.

Back to the message: you’re all being taught how to actually follow through with the vision/dream you’ve carried for so long. maybe you used to put in a ton of effort & it never went anywhere. but that was then. you were young, & things aren’t the same anymore. you aren’t the same. new opportunities are coming that will push this transformation forward. some of them might seem completely random but they’ll bring you back to yourself & even closer to your original dreams & desires.

the weird, unexplainable stuff is going to start happening again. this time, you’ll understand. a lot of you came into this life carrying heavy stuff: anger, confusion, frustration, like your soul hadn’t moved on from the last lifetime; & now, whether you want to or not, you’re being pushed forward. some questions won’t have answers for a while. for some of you, not even in this lifetime. your purpose feels hard to define because it’s not meant to be put in a box. right now, you’re just being called to live. to be who you are, loudly & without apology. this is hitting especially hard for people with leo or taurus north node placements, or 1st, 2nd, and 10th house north node placements.

the ground you’re standing on is becoming more solid but you have to keep showing up with effort. You are literally surrounded by blessings, both physical & spiritual. some of you are deeply intuitive or spiritual by nature, prayer could be a literal gift from your bloodline. i’m hearing “healing hands.” and there are ancestors trying to teach you their ways.

someone is being called back to their ancestral practices. this might be an art that was lost, or maybe there was someone in your family who practiced in secret, who got disowned, or who was estranged.

a lot of strange stuff happens around you, & people can feel it. it makes them uncomfortable. they might not like your authenticity, or they just don’t understand you, & that’s ok. you’re becoming more secure in yourself & more at peace with change. you’re healing your inner child in real time.

things are getting harder right now, but not in a way that’ll break you. it WILL be manageable, & ironically it will free you. strangely enough life will feel better than ever. this is a test. you’re facing resistance because you’re meant to create the life you’ve been asking for. your spirits, your ancestors, your guides - they’re watching to see if you’re gonna fold, or if you’re gonna show up like you mean it. How bad do you really want it?

some of y’all have spirits around you who are fully capable of moving mountains and making miracles.

they just need to see that you’re gonna stand on what you claim to want. You are going to learn about the value of hard work, & you will begin to understand that the best things in life MUST be maintained with balanced effort.

pile ii

you’re becoming more whole right now. for some of y’all, that means realizing how far you’ve gotten from your real self. there might be masks you wear without even noticing. some of you could be dealing with body dysmorphia or feeling really triggered in how you see yourself physically. it’s like something in your environment is pushing you to your limit. honestly, this whole energy feels very scorpio-coded. deep fear of loss. fear of being left with nothing.

Living in survival mode. abandonment wounds. fear that no one really cares. where pile one was more overly attached to the emotional/spiritual , y’all are overly attached to the physical world- material human values.

for some of you, life is giving you a big, uncomfortable shove right now. you might feel confused, disoriented, frustrated, maybe even angry that the path forward looks so unclear. but the path isn’t out there. the path is within. & it’s different for each of you. what i can say is: it’s probably gonna come through an uncomfortable truth that’s getting exposed. something you might’ve wanted to keep buried.

this truth could show up in different areas of your life. i feel it in my solar plexus. this is tied to how you were loved. or not loved. maybe you had a jealous or competitive mother, sister, or feminine figure. someone who couldn’t stand your light. someone who made you feel invisible. whether that was childhood or something more recent, it still stings.

you’re being asked to examine the role you play in your own suffering now. when we actually confront the uncomfortable truths without taking offense & integrate them- we can find real & profound peace. even in chaos. For some reason i channeled money trees by kendrick lamar while writing this lol. some of y’all might have saturn in the 2nd house, or serious karmic themes around money & stability. i’m picking up on asia too, specifically cambodia- or this might hit home for someone who grew up in their home country and later immigrated.

you might carry this internalized sense that you’re always behind. like you have to work ten times harder just to be seen or to feel like you belong. but here’s the thing- you have a massive goal on the horizon. it’s something you don’t talk about much. This is about your ultimate freedom or a public exhibition.

i keep getting this “death” energy, but not in a scary or literal way. it’s transformation. like people will watch you evolve in real time. & some of you already are. you’ve been sitting with the pain & the realizations, & even if it’s slow, it is healing you.

You’ve begun to actually act on your self awareness.

example: instead of spiraling because trauma is getting in the way of a healthy relationship, you catch the trigger & choose trust. you choose calm. You choose emotional maturity and stability, even when doing so goes against your knee jerk reaction.

you’re learning how to show up better.. as a friend, a lover, & person.

but this will only happen if you let yourself actually accept the criticism that’s come your way.

some of y’all are learning the truth about a friend group. or specifically an air sign woman. (libra, gemini, aquarius placements: sun/moon/rising.) this person might be fake. or maybe the whole group dynamic is about to collapse in a full tower moment.

truth is gonna come out. maybe you’ll be the one to speak it. & if so, it’s gonna lift a lot of guilt off your shoulders.

sometimes the life we built just… isn’t meant to hold us anymore. spiritually. emotionally. materially.

accept the redirection.

you’re being led toward way better.

pile iii

Some of you may be called to pile one. Someone could have gone no contact with abusive family members, you are taking a chance on your independence. You are evolving beyond traumatic relationship experiences as well- coming above what you were told and taught to be. Or what you observed the women/men in your family to be like in relationships. witnessing yourself clearly. seeing who you really are without the projections, the expectations, the shame, or the fear that’s been built up over time. this energy feels like you’re stepping out of a fog, but your eyes are burning from the brightness of the world around you. You need time to adjust. Adjustment can be found through engaging with this new iteration of reality & getting hands on experience.

some of you have spent a long time adapting to be what other people needed. you might be someone who’s changed shape depending on who’s in the room. Maybe you were praised for being agreeable, easy to manage, or “strong.” but that wasn’t authentic, it was 100% survival instinct with a dash of you.

right now, you’re shedding old skin.

A very difficult & maybe even uncomfortable & ugly feeling shedding. This is the detachment from how other people

you’re mourning the version of you that helped you survive, because you know they can’t come with you. You have persevered through much more than the average person in your group/community. Faced a lot of loss, confusion, or pain. you’re waking up parts of yourself that were silenced.

& they are not being quiet anymore.

especially if you were raised in a space that dismissed your sensitivity, intuition, voice & shamed your inner world. that wound is cracking open to be healed, you may for the first time in your life be surrounded by authentic love. I sense that you scare easy, it takes little to nothing for you to doubt or run from someone or something. The relationships around you are showing you how to have true loving and trusting connections.

you’re learning how to stop betraying yourself to stay loved.

Speaking your truth while holding space for the truth of others without internalizing the unnecessary. You’ve developed a strong discernment, & now it’s being challenged- especially in the way of where you may FEEL you are right & instead you learn there is nuance to these problems or issues. Things aren’t always as black and white as you perceive them, you have to understand that people are multidimensional. Your loved ones are rooting for you, and they want to stay- you have to take the actions necessary maintain your relationships with yourself and others. Look more to you, the more you pour into yourself the more others will pour into you & the less you’ll accept low efforts from others.

[chroniclesofskz]

Ride My Face Baby Girl

Meet Bang Chan, the CEO of Stellar Fashion, a man who could silence a room with a single glance. His sharp features and piercing dark eyes spoke of power and authority, a stark contrast to the soft whispers of fabric that accompanied his every move. The office buzzed with the electric anticipation of his arrival each day, as employees straightened ties and smoothed out wrinkles, hoping to catch his eye.

But not everyone was so eager to bask in his shadow. Enter Y/N, the new girl on the block, with a fire in her eyes that matched the vibrant H/C hair. Unlike the others, she wasn't so easily swayed by his charisma or his sharply tailored suits. In her mind, he was just another entitled prick who thought he could have anything he wanted, including her. But as the days passed, she couldn't deny the growing tension between them, a dance of wills that seemed to fuel his obsession.

Their interactions grew more frequent and intense, their banter a mix of professional and personal, with Bang Chan's eyes often lingering on her curves a beat too long. It was infuriating, yet strangely thrilling, like a cat playing with its prey. Y/N knew she was skating on thin ice, but she was determined to keep things strictly professional. After all, she needed this job.

One evening, the tension reached a boiling point. As the office emptied and the last of the day's light painted the sky, Bang Chan called out to her, his voice echoing down the hallway. She sighed, steeling herself for another round of his games. Entering his office, she found him leaning against his desk, his arms folded over his broad chest, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to reveal strong forearms. He studied her with a look that was both hungry and challenging.

"Do you have any idea why you're here?" he asked, his voice a low growl that seemed to resonate through her body. Y/N swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as she met his gaze. She knew she had to keep her cool, but the way he looked at her was making it increasingly difficult. "No," she replied curtly, her voice a little shakier than she would have liked.

Bang Chan pushed off the desk and took a step closer to her. "You've been parading around here all week, flaunting that body of yours, and not giving me the time of day," he said, his eyes raking over her figure. "It's driving me mad."

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool. "I'm just doing my job," she said, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart. But inside, she felt a thrill at his words. The fact that she had gotten under his skin was oddly satisfying.

He stepped closer, invading her personal space, and she could feel the heat of his body. "Is that what you call it?" he murmured, his breath warm against her neck. "Driving me wild with every twirl of your hips?"

Y/N tried to step back, but she was already against the wall. She put her hand on his chest to push him away, but instead of resisting, she felt the firmness of his muscles beneath the fabric, and her hand lingered. "What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice betraying the excitement she was trying to suppress.

His hand reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. "I want to taste you," he said, his eyes dark with desire. "To feel every inch of you tremble beneath me."

Her breath hitched, and she knew she should be offended, should push him away, but instead she found herself leaning into his touch. "You think I'm going to just give in to you?" she challenged, her eyes sparkling with defiance.

Bang Chan chuckled, the sound low and seductive. "I know you want it," he said, his voice a whisper against her ear. "I see it in the way your pupils dilate every time I'm near, the way your breathing changes." He took her hand and placed it over the bulge in his pants. "Feel that?" he asked, his voice a rough rasp. "That's all for you, baby girl."

Y/N's cheeks flushed, and she tried to pull her hand away, but he held it firmly in place. "This is inappropriate," she protested weakly, her body betraying her.

He leaned in closer, his mouth so close to hers that she could feel his warm breath on her skin. "Is it?" he whispered. "Or is it just what you've been waiting for?"

Before she could respond, his lips claimed hers in a kiss that was both demanding and possessive. Her resolve crumbled, and she kissed him back with a passion that surprised even herself. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and contour as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life.

The sound of a zipper echoed through the room as he unzipped her dress, his fingers deftly unhooking her bra. He stepped back to admire his handiwork, his eyes greedily devouring the sight of her bare breasts. "So beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Y/N's body responded to his words, her nipples hardening under his gaze. She felt a thrill of power as she watched him fight for control. With a smirk, she reached out and grabbed his tie, pulling him back towards her. "If you want me, you'll have to earn it," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr.

The challenge in her eyes was all it took for Bang Chan to snap. He picked her up, setting her on his desk as if she weighed nothing. His mouth found hers again, their kisses deepening as his hands began to explore her body, his fingers dancing over her sensitive skin.

"You want me to earn it?" he murmured against her lips, his voice a dark promise. "I'll make you beg for it, baby girl."

Without warning, he slid his hand between her thighs, finding her already wet and ready. He inserted two fingers, stroking her with a precision that sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Her eyes went wide, and she gasped as he curled them just right, hitting that spot that made her see stars.

The room filled with the sound of their ragged breaths and the slick sound of his fingers moving in and out of her. His thumb circled her clit, pressing down just enough to make her hips buck. She felt the tension building, the pressure mounting, and she knew she was close.

"You're going to come for me," he murmured, his voice a dark promise that sent a shiver down her spine. "I want to feel you drench my hand."

Y/N bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to escape as his fingers worked their magic. But it was no use. With a gasp, she felt the wave of pleasure wash over her, and she squirted all over his desk. He groaned in approval, his eyes never leaving hers as she rode the intense orgasm.

Her body trembled as she came down from the high, her breathing returning to normal. She felt a sense of vulnerability wash over her, but also a strange sense of satisfaction. She had never been with a man who could make her feel so alive, so desired.

Bang Chan pulled his hand away, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean. "Mmm, delicious," he said with a wink. "But we're not done yet."

Without a word, he took Y/N's hand and led her over to the plush burgundy Chesterfield sofa that dominated one corner of the office. He lay down, his tie now loosened and shirt untucked. He patted his face, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Ride my face," he said, the words dripping with lust.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her heart racing and her mind reeling. But something in the way he looked at her, with such hunger and desire, made her want to give in. She straddled his head, her legs trembling slightly as she positioned herself. His nose grazed her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her, and she gasped.

He began to lick and suck, his tongue delving deep into her wetness. His hands gripped her thighs, keeping her steady as she rocked her hips back and forth. The leather of the sofa was cool against her bare skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his mouth. She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter with every stroke, her body responding to his expert touch.

Her hands found their way to her breasts, her nipples hard and sensitive as she pinched and played with them. The sight of her bouncing on his face, her hair cascading down around her, was almost too much for him to handle. He groaned, the sound muffled by her pussy, and she felt his grip tighten on her thighs.

Y/N threw her head back, her eyes closing as she let the waves of pleasure wash over her. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Harder," she moaned, her voice barely a whisper.

Bang Chan didn't need any more encouragement. He buried his face deeper into her, his tongue working her clit in fast, firm circles. He could feel her legs starting to shake, her hips bucking against his mouth as she approached climax.

And then she was there, screaming his name as she came all over his face. He lapped it up greedily, savoring the taste of her sweet release. When she finally collapsed onto the sofa beside him, breathless and panting, he gave her a smug look. His face glistened with her arousal, and she couldn't help but feel a thrill at the sight. He leaned in, kissing her softly, and she could taste herself on his lips. It was an intimate, erotic moment that she didn't expect.

With a cheeky smirk, she whispered, "Was that all you've got?" Y/N was surprised by her own boldness, but it was clear she had tapped into a side of herself that she had never explored before.

Bang Chan chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Not even close, baby girl," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "We're just getting started."

Y/N looked at him with a mix of surprise and excitement, her breath still ragged from the intense orgasm. She couldn't believe she had allowed this to happen in the office, but something about his commanding presence made it feel right. He stood up, his own desire evident in the bulge straining against his pants.

With a flick of his wrist, he undid his belt and let his pants fall to the floor, revealing his hard, throbbing cock. She stared, her eyes widening at the size of it. "Like what you see?" he asked, stroking himself slowly.

"You're… huge," she breathed, unable to tear her gaze away.

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. "And you're going to take every inch of me," he said with a smirk, his voice full of confidence.

Y/N felt a thrill of fear mixed with arousal. She had never been with a man this dominant before, and it was both terrifying and exhilarating. He stepped closer to her, his cock brushing against her inner thigh. "Now, let's see if that mouth of yours is as feisty as your attitude," he murmured, guiding her head towards his cock.

Her heart was racing, but she knew she wanted this. With a nod of determination, she leaned in and took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip as she began to suck. He groaned, his hand fisting in her hair as he guided her rhythm. She took him deeper, feeling the veins pulsing in his length, the taste of him making her even wetter.

As she bobbed her head, he watched her with hooded eyes, his grip on her hair tightening slightly. "That's it, baby girl," he said, his voice strained. "Take it all."

Y/N felt a rush of power knowing she could make him feel this way. She took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing out as she worked her mouth along his shaft. She could feel him getting closer, his breaths becoming shallower, his hips jerking slightly as he fought for control.

But just as she was getting into the rhythm, he pulled away, leaving her gasping for air. "Not yet," he said with a smirk. "There's something I want to do first."

Without warning, he picked her up and carried her over to the large, mahogany desk that dominated the room. He laid her down, her legs dangling over the edge, and spread her open. "Now, let's see if I can make you scream louder," he said, his eyes darkening with desire.

He slammed into her without preamble, filling her completely in one swift motion. Y/N gasped, her nails digging into the wood as he began to thrust. Each stroke was deep and demanding, his powerful hips driving into her with a force that made the desk creak beneath them.

The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, punctuated by her moans and his grunts. She felt herself climbing towards another peak, her body responding to his every command. His hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, as he claimed her completely.

Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, he reached between them, finding her clit and giving it a firm press. She came again, her body arching off the desk as she screamed his name, her walls tightening around his cock.

He didn't stop, his movements becoming more frantic as he chased his own release. His eyes were locked on hers, and she could see the hunger in them, the need to claim her fully. And in that moment, she knew she was his, and she didn't want it any other way.

As the last of her orgasm faded away, she watched him, panting and desperate. "Come for me," she whispered, and with a final, powerful thrust, he did, filling her with his hot seed.

They lay there for a moment, their bodies tangled and sweaty, the tension of the day giving way to the afterglow of passion. But she knew that this was just the beginning of a very complicated dance between them.

[po1kaprincess]

HOW DCC READER X FOOTBALLER RAFE GET BACK TOGETHER

“breaking up is funny , i forget you aren’t mine” - cedar , gracie abrams

it had been a few months since reader and rafe broke up , you knew even before dating him that you weren’t meant to , that it was against the “rules” but since you had met rafe after one of your sessions at training camp during your rookie year , you just couldn’t stay away and nor could he so you kept it a secret from kelly and judy , not needing anyone else to know .

by the end of your rookie year the team had found out and you had been left with an impossible decision , being a dcc or rafe? and your heart wanted nothing more than to be with rafe but it had to end so you could keep your job .

during the off season it was okay without him , the cold nights without him and the way your apartment lost that loving feel left you feeling lonely but it was easier knowing you didn’t have to see him constantly .

when you went back to training camp for your second year as a dcc you had to try and control your emotions , if you seen him you would just walk past him is what you told yourself but it was harder than you imagined .

one night after training you were making your way to your car when suddenly a black car that seemed so familiar stopped a few spots away and unlucky for you , rafe hopped out with his sports bag of his shoulder , his phone to his ear but as he walked and saw you standing at your car he froze , it was the first time he had seen you since the night of the breakup , the night of apologies and tears . he had to fight the urge to run up to you , he knew you weren’t wanting that anymore , well that’s what he thought but god you didn’t want anything more than to run up to him .

all you could do was muster a little wave , half a smile appearing on your face , he just did a half nod at you , walking towards the doors but having to walk past you on the way and for some reason he just stopped as he was walking by you , not looking at you before speaking .

“you trying out again? your gonna be a 2nd year?” he said , talking to you like this was normal , like you were just friends , like you had always been .

“uh yeah i- i loved it last year so i wanted to try again” you replied , your voice weirdly quiet or maybe that was just your mind playing tricks on you .

“well i hope you make it , you were always so captivating on the pitch” he said , giving you a strange smile before walking through the doors.

you just shook your head and got in your car but the whole way home you just couldn’t get him out of your head .

—

after the long weeks of training camp the team was finally formed and you made it back for your second year as a dcc which meant more rehearsals but finally getting to perform at matches .

it was the first match of the season , the girls all stood in line with prefect hair and their pompoms shaking as they put on that photogenic smile that had mastered by now .

as you ran out to dance your eyes betrayed you and scanned the whole stadium for rafe but you didn’t see them , in fact you didn’t see any of the cowboys yet .

once the match was in full force you finally spotted rafe , even with his helmet on you could notice him but you looked away , continuing to smile and dance like you were hired to do .

after what felt like years the match was over and the cowboys finally won , you felt someone run up behind you , grabbing you and spinning you around before setting you down.

“you see that? i fucking got the winning touch down bab-“ the voice stopped abruptly, but you knew it was rafe behind that helmet , you could hear it in his voice and the way he spoke to you like nothing ever ended , the half finished “baby” killed you , you could’ve fell right there on the pitch .

rafe pulled his helmet off quickly “i’m sorry y/n- i didn’t mean to , i forgot im so sorry” he spoke quickly , his face full of fear and embarrassment.

“no don’t worry- i saw it , you were great” you replied trying to keep your cool even if you could feel your heart pounding quickly in your chest .

he nodded , looking over to try and spot his coaches and judy and kelly , once he knew he couldn’t see them he spoke again .

“it’s been so weird to miss you- i just you were always around me and i don’t know what im meant to do when your not around , i don’t know where to put my hands or who to call when something happens to me- i hate it , i hate it so fucking much y/n” his eyes scanned over your face , drinking in your features like it was his first time seeing you

“i know- it’s been strange to miss you too , i just don’t want to get in trouble again , rafe. i wont get another shot” you spoke quietly , like you were scared someone would come and shout at you .

“screw them ! if you want me you have me , you have me even if you don’t want me okay? i’m all yours”

“rafe- i just”

“i’ll talk to them , i’ll let you be with me i promise , i’ll do anything to have you be my prize after i win again”

you just looked at him , it was like something out of the cheesy romcoms you found yourself always watching , all you could do was nod and before you could even finish your nod his lips found yours , smiling against your mouth as you heard cheers around you

when he pulled back you both saw the big screen above caught the kiss , the whole stadium was cheering and all rafe could do was laugh .

“guess they can’t take you away from me now.”

[trickbxbes]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭

[𝐃𝐚𝐞-𝐇𝐨 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

Notes: This includes a portion of the original ending to my X reader book “Anchor”! If I ever get the motivation to write season 3 (bc it sucked), it won’t be this ending.

Warnings: Sole Survivors! You, Dae-Ho and player 222, angst, short, kinda lame

════════════════════════════════════

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹

“Mhm? Yeah, that’s great!”

You set down two bags of groceries down on a kitchen counter. Your shoulder was lifted high and your head tilted down to hold your phone in between. You carefully grab your phone and put it by your ear again.

“I’m glad work’s going well, dad.”

With your free hand, you begin taking out the groceries one by one, starting with the eggs. “Yeah, I should probably go too. I love you, bye.” You hang up the phone with a warm smile.

In the time that’s passed since the Squid Games ended, there have been a few changes clearly. You were no longer living with your dad, now having your own home. Opening up the fridge, you start to set in the designated items. That is until you hear your front door beginning to unlock. A soft voice was muffled by the wood. A voice you recognized, Dae-Ho.

Your lover opened the door, and he wasn’t alone. Strapped to his chest in a pink baby carrier, was a baby. “Yeah…! We’re home now. I bet you’re hungry, yeah?” The male cooed toward the baby as he took off his shoes. The sight made your heart warm. You close the fridge and approach. First, you cup the baby’s cheek.

“Aww, did Jun-Hee have fun with her aunties?”

This baby wasn’t of your blood. After the games, you and Dae-Ho were the only survivors. Gi-Hun had sacrificed himself on the final tower, leaving you and Dae-Ho to care for Jun-Hee’s baby. Since your good friend never got to name her, you thought of the next best thing. Naming her after her mother, who loved her dearly.

It took some time to get used to everything, but now you and Dae-Ho had found some sort of peace. It was the best you could get after all the horrors you’ve witnessed. Countless nights did you awaken to the terrors. You watched your friends die, one by one. But thankfully, you weren’t alone.

Dae-Ho smiles kindly as you cup his cheek next. You plant a kiss on his lips and back away, taking baby Jun-Hee with you. Dae-Ho took off the baby carrier and started putting away the rest of the groceries.

“Yeah, I’m surprised she isn’t all tired out. She played hard.”

He chuckled. You bounce Jun-Hee in your arms a little before letting her rest against your shoulder and chest. “Ah, you spoke too soon, babe. She’s already dozing off.” You head to your shared room with the male, passing by a framed photo of the three of you first getting the house. Gently, you set down the baby in bed so she could get some sleep.

When you walk back, you flick on the nearby lamp. Dae-Ho meets you halfway, finishing the earlier chore. His arms envelop around your waist, pulling you to his chest. He rocks you gently, kissing the side of your head.

“You’re beautiful.”

The sun was beginning to set outside, casting an orange glow into your living room. The lamp nearby illuminating the room further. You smile. It seemed hard to believe. That after everything you’ve been through, you’re still able to find an anchor through all this madness. You were able to escape with him.

“I love you.”

You meet his eyes, your eyelashes fluttering. Dae-Ho visibly softens at your gaze, leaning in. “I love you.” He presses his lips against your own. Everything felt perfect, well, as perfect as you could get anymore.

But when you opened your eyes, you noticed something from the corner of your eye. Your lamp, how it shifted. The lamp itself moved a bit strangely, as if wiggling. “What…?”

And then you snapped back to reality.

Two bullets entering your chest. The instant pain that followed the sound of machine gunfire. Your wide eyes staring at your killer, Young-il.

You remembered now. You were taking the magazines to your friends because Dae-Ho couldn’t. You reached Gi-Hun and Jung-Bae and were asked to get the magazines to Young-il and some others.

What you didn’t expect to see, was your supposed friend delivering machine fire on your allies. He stood tall, holding his walkie close to his mouth. He locked eyes with you. You were unable to tell exactly what he was thinking, or feeling. Was he feeling anything at all? You didn’t know, and he didn’t give you the time to think on it.

And so, you laid there on the ground. A pool of blood surrounded your body. Your life was slipping away faster than you could blink.

Whatever it was you saw, whatever dream, it didn’t belong to this reality.

In your timeline, you laid on the cold floor, and took your last breaths under your “friend’s” eye.

[bumpen-underbeds]

He knew you'd be perfect for him! Sure, the screaming and fainting at the sight of him was making his ears ring, but soon you'd grow used to him, you'd love him like he loves you! He just had to help ease you into it, into him...

A continuation of the ghost groom, I wanted to name him too, so imma call him Ezra. Pt.1 here

You'd think after living in an old house for months you'd get used to the noises, the creaking and banging, groaning pipes, heavy window shudders moving in the wind, the death rattels of nails or screws that are probably a hundred years old now moving in there settled places. But recently it had been louder? There have been more groans, whispers of wind that almost sound like sighs, as you roam the house in summer attire.

The loose layers or short, tight items of clothing somehow feel like they are being observed, but it is only you, only ever you, in your home.

Waking to the early morning sounds of the vineyard prepping for the day is so common now that the sound of faraway voices has become like white noise, endless and always there in the background of your new, quaint life. During a quick clean and dust, you spotted it, a small manhole in the ceiling, you hadn't realised there was an attic to the home, the roof space seemed too small for one, but getting up on a ladder and gently pushing the opening gives way to a small room safely tucked away above your sitting room.

There is nothing up there bar a few boxes of random things likely left over and forgotten from the old owners, a tea set, some faded books that had long rotted and... a photo?

The photo was of a married couple; the man was handsome, not too tall, with perfectly styled black hair in a waistcoat, standing next to a bride, whose face was blurred like it had been smudged or edited. The back of the picture had cursive letters that had barely lived to tell you that this was a picture of Ezra and Ella-something or other, again, the bride's name is smudged and illegible, blurred like someone wanted her to be forgotten.

Tucking the photo in with the tea set, you put them away, they were strange,e sure, but a visit to the main house of the vineyard might help figure out who these people were, after all, this house and the vineyard were once one single property that belonged to the same family for generations. The family would probably like to have the picture of some long-lost grandparents back, who knows if there would even be anything of them left beyond what you had found.

Only when you go to look for them next, they are gone, the photo ripped in half, only the groom's side still lying in the box with the tea set.

Then the fun truly began, photos of you with men in them began to break, falling from their nails or tumbling off the mantle you had placed them on, yet it was only the ones of you with one man, not family groups, that were being affected. Then the picture of the groom was tucked in the side of one of the frames, like a bastardised attempt at imposing the figure of the man into the picture, like he was the one standing with you.

Soon it was the feeling of hands, gentle fingers running down your back and holding your waist, touches that a lover or partner would share, there were many cups and plates lost to the floor when this began, but replacements shortly appeared, older, faded, antique-like plates and cups. Calling someone slowly seemed like a good idea, but how could you explain what was happening?

Oh yeah, I need help at my new house in the middle of nowhere, why? Don't worry about it, just phantom touching and pictures of long-dead men being shoved over pictures of male friends. Huh? You've never had that happen before? Can't help but you'll pray for me? Oh well, thanks for taking my call!

Not happening, but maybe you were sleepwalking? The new place, new lifestyle, everything is probably overwhelming you unknowingly and making your mind work overtime as you sleep.

Then, he appeared.

Standing in the main hall to your bedroom late at night, the light of your bedside table outlining the smiling man, he looked like a dead ringer for the man from the attic photo. Same black hair, same waistcoat, even had a flower tucked into his breast pocket as he clasped his hands together, smiling as if in bliss while watching you sit up and stare him down. Body frozen in fear as he walked closer, no, glided, it looked like walking, but there were no footsteps, no sound, just legs matching forward as your eyes rolled back and darkness took you.

Blinking your eyes and groaning, your stomach angry with you after having fainted, the memory of the man you had seen running shivers down your spine. Slowly sitting up and rubbing your temples and wincing as you reach for the bottle of water you kept by the bed, gulping down half before you turn and see him again, screaming at max volume and throwing the bottle at him, water splashing across the floor as you scamper off the bed, tumbling and crawling towards the dresser as if space would save you.

The bottle had passed right through him.

Even after attempting to throw a bottle at him, he was smiling, hand outstretched as if trying to coax a scared cat to come closer and receive some pets. A ghost, your new, perfect escape from the city home, was haunted, and the ghost seemed hell bent on getting closer to you, shuffling backwards more till you were firmly pressed to the carved wooden doors of your dresser as if they would open and shield you from the sector that was lesuirly strolling towards you.

"I didn't mean to startle you, you looked so scared last night, I just had to stay and make sure you were okay. What else would a good husband do after all?" pale fingers drift closer, almost touching you before you flinch away and scrunch up your face, eyes squeezed shut as the cold whisper of touch traces down your cheeks and across the bridge of your nose. You hadn't even registered, you had whimpered until the spectre began speaking again, "shhh, shh it's okay my dear, I'm here now, you know me, I'm Ezra, the man from that lovely little photo you found."

It feels odd as your cheeks are cupped and your face redirected to face him, eyes still closed as if you could ignore the now very real ghost cooing at you, "It's okay, married couples always have some settling in to do in the early days, and I have eternity to make sure that you my dear, firmly settled with me."

Opening your eyes a crack, that smile is gone, the ghost's face like stone, eyes unblinking as it stares you down, not moving or showing any emotion, just blank staring as the sound of locks clicking into place fills the empty air, "we'll... We'll stay inside today, get to know each other like a good couple should. Don't worry, my dear, I already love you as you are, and you will love me as I am."

You begin to think it was better in those brief moments when he didn't smile at you so lovingly.

[spaceandbones]

someone sent me a really scary ask 3 or 4 days ago and I want everyone to know that it scared me and I was in fact scared and there was some fear involved

[allygatoor]

i think it's time that we as a society realized that actually eternals wasn't bad it was just not standard marvel fare and that's okay

[danieyells]

I cannot stress enough that if you do not make and support the stories and headcanons and fics and interpretations you want to see in the world no amount of complaining that people make things you don't like will help you feel better in the long run

Also consider that just because you don't like more than one interpretation of a thing doesn't mean other people who like a different interpretation don't like others too

[milo-is-rambling]

Who was gonna tell me that reading is fun sometimes

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Okay okay so. Thinking.

I've mapped out how I want to pay off my credit cards, which means I'll only be getting new stuff pretty sporadically, which means I need to appreciate the zero cost things in my life, like:

- the 2.5 foot tall stack of unread books I have

- the violin I might finally actually pick up again

- the 500+ drawing prompts I've been hoarding

- the list of anime I still need to watch

- the 3000+ songs in my watch later playlist

- the stickers I've been neglecting to cut

- yarn??? I have a lot of yarn

- all the pink fabric leftover from moth cosplay

- the candles and incense I also already have

In short, time to actually use the stuff that I have 😭

[asaarii]

ft: mainstream!mark and variants (mohawk, viltrum, omni, sheisty, sinister) (invincible) reader: fem wc: 2604 summary: hey siri is it gay to want to crack the female version of my dead best friend? cw: canon typical violence, foul language, and the variants are kinda sorta freaky in this requested by: @sophsthebest

this was so fun to write lowk and I would've been done faster if not for the blood moon event in dbd so err yeah I'm going to go die in a hole now

Life is strange, really. 

One moment, you’re helping refold shirts because some people don’t even have the decency to put stuff back to where they found it, and the next, an international warning tells you to stay inside because there are evil variants of your boyfriend now roaming the Earth with unclear intentions.

You share a look with your coworker, who looks just as off-put by the information, her fingers curling around her phone as her brow dips. Just as her lips part to speak, the first building falls. It’s only a few blocks away, and the ground beneath your feet trembles at its sudden collapse.

You hear the screams of those out on the street, internally debating whether or not to follow suit until a notification from Mark lights up your screen, the ridiculous nickname you’d set when you were twelve a small comfort to your racing heart.

MarkyWarky: please tell me you’re okay

You: i’m fine

You: i’m just scared mark 

You: why are there so many versions of you anyway…

MarkyWarky: i wish i could tell you

MarkyWarky: just stay put alright im otw

The message does little to soothe, and you can’t help but stare at your screen with nothing but apprehension. Your coworker is quick to seize you by the arm when the sound of collapsing buildings and wailing cars draws closer, ushering you into the break room with the floor manager as though the small, unwindowed room would protect you from the raw strength of a Viltrumite.

“Holy shit, we’re gonna die…We’re actually going to die…” The floor manager, Kasandra, curls into herself with tears already welled in her eyes as she chokes back a sob. No one says anything, unable to face the grim reality at steak when debris begins to crumble around you. You all huddle into the furthest corner as your hope in Mark begins to wane.

Small pieces of rubble hit your head as you tuck your head tightly into Kasandra’s shaking shoulder, the lights overhead flickering violently when the ceiling begins to cave in on itself. There’s no use holding back the tears now and you can’t hide your anguished cries, unheard over the collapsing infrastructure.

This is it, you think, mentally saying your goodbyes to everyone you’ve grown to love. Amber. Eve. William. Mark—oh, Mark. The annoying boy next door who grew to be your first love. 

Sparks flare as the light above you finally collapses, but you don’t feel a throbbing pain in your head or death’s cold embrace, instead, you find yourself wrapped in a familiar pair of arms, still clinging to an almost catatonic Kasandra while your coworker grips the forearm wrapped around the three of you.

“I’ve got you,” a voice in your ear says, and you can feel the tears begin to well once more, though, this time out of relief. Mark is quick to shoot from the rubble, hold unwavering before he sets the three of you down and urges you to run to safety.

Your two coworkers are quick to flee, but you stupidly linger, worry etched onto your features at the sight of Mark’s beaten face and tattered suit. In the distance, you can see Eve facing valiantly against a variant, the odd cloth mask adorned on his face his most defining trait. She pants, her palms facing outward to just barely raise a shield against his erratic punches.

Mark pulls your attention back to him, face pinched as his thumb traces your lower lip in an attempt to ground both you and himself. His lips are soft against your forehead for a brief moment before he pulls back, staring at you through his cracked goggles with an emotion you can’t quite place. 

“I love you,” you whisper, stroking his bruised cheek softly.

“I love you too. But, you need to go. Now. I’ll check on you soon, promise.”

So, you run as fast as your legs can carry you, doing your best to ignore the ruins and corpses that seem to block every turn.

You don’t get far.

A shadow overhead blocks the sun—its presence so oppressive and commandeering that it freezes you in place.

“Another survivor?” 

You can’t bring yourself to turn despite the way your heart lurches at the familiarity of the voice. Your breath hitches when the shadow lowers—whatever twisted version of Mark this is drawing ever closer like a lion to its prey.

“I thought those other two were the last of them, but what’s one more?” The voice is cold, almost clinical, very unlike the warmth that radiated off of your Mark. A glove is quick to find purchase on your throat, and you glance down to see the red rubber shining beneath the sun.

Blood coats the hand, tinting the glove an even darker shade of red than what you’d first surmised. You try not to think about the warmth of it as his grip grows tighter, making it harder to breathe, but not enough to kill, like he’s messing with you in some cruel, twisted way.

“You’re this dimension’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” His lips press against the shell of your ear, jerking your body to face the fight between Mark and the clothed one from before alongside Eve, who reaches out to you weakly before eventually crashing against the side of one of the buildings. Your Mark wheezes, clutching at his chest when the cloth-masked variant throws him into a nearby building by the hair. “Pathetic.”

The sound barrier tears as another Mark enters the fray, his mohawk wild and unkempt in the wind as he grins at the sight of battle, though there’s no amusement behind his smile. “Who the hell do you think you are running off like that?” For a moment, his wild eyes slip to where you and your captor reside, a flicker of…something flashing through his before it fizzles away. “Keeping hostages alive? Didn’t peg you for the cruel type.”

You barely register the click of the Invincible’s tongue over the roaring beat of your heart, his thumb remaining stationary over your pulse point; a warning. He could snap your neck at any given moment, and you don’t know what’s stopping him, but you’re grateful for whatever’s causing him to hesitate.

“Come on, just put her out of her misery already,” the mohawked Mark goads with a small shrug as he pulls his fist back to punch your Mark into the concrete when the cloth-masked variant throws him in his direction. Cracks split beneath your feet at the sheer force, the ground almost giving way, but all you can do is watch as your Mark slowly gets up from the crater his body had formed. 

He locks eyes with you, something snapping inside of him at the sight of the variant clad in a suit nearly identical to Omni-Man’s wrapping his hand around your throat.

“[Name]!” He calls out, bursting free from the grasp of the two other Marks with a renewed sense of vigor. 

Time seems to freeze the moment your name leaves his bloodied lips, the Mark holding you hostage too stunned to react when your Mark’s fist collides with his jaw hard enough to send him three blocks away. It isn’t long until you’re swept into Mark’s arms, the hold both protective and possessive as he glares at the other two, his chest heaving with each labored breath he struggles to take.

“No fuckin’ way.” The mohawked variant blinks slowly, his lips pulling into a mix of a grimace and a smirk. “That’s unfair on so many levels.” He turns to the Mark in a cloth mask who seems to share the same sentiment, mumbling under his breath about how unfair it is that this version of him gets the hot babe.

Omni-Man Mark merely scoffs when he floats back, his suit still pristine as though he’d never been thrown at all while he crosses his arms over his chest, scrutinizing the way you tremble in this version of him’s hold. You aren’t the best friend he’d killed mercilessly back in his dimension. Here, you were a woman—his woman. And he’d be damned if he couldn’t kill two birds with one stone.

A best friend and a wife. Who would’ve thought?

While he’d never seen the other, male, version of you in a romantic light, his heart stirs at the thought of taking this version of you for himself. It’s not like it’ll take much to kill this Mark; he’s already as good as dead anyway—

“Is everything alright here?” Clad in white and silver, yet another version of Mark descends from the sky like some sort of disgraced angel. 

“Ugh, why are you here?” Mohawk Mark rolls his eyes obnoxiously, his gaze only briefly flickering to the new variant.

“Angstrom sent me to see if you all were sticking to the plan, which clearly you aren’t.”

“Aww, the lil’Viltrum baby can’t do anything without a mission? How sad!” He bats his lashes dramatically before sneering. “What are you gonna do next, bark? Who gives a shit about the plan? You’re acting as if you weren’t gonna kill him after anyway!” 

The Mark in the Viltrum uniform chooses not to dignify him with a response.

Unbothered by his counterpart’s nonchalance, the mohawked Mark sets his sights back on you, spreading his arms wide as if to welcome you in with a hug. “Hey, [Name], it’s just me. Just Mark. Your best friend, remember? We used to play CoD and shit when your parents were out.”

Viltrum Mark’s brows furrow at the familiar name, steady gaze finally paying you mind as you try to sink further into the Mark of this dimension’s arms. You’re a lot…softer than he recalls you being, your form far less filled out; almost feminine. But, that couldn’t be right, right? How cruel would it be for this version of him to have the perfect mate whilst he, while grateful for your prior companionship, was stuck with nothing more than a best friend? One that he’d ultimately killed for resisting.

Surely, his brain is playing tricks on him.

Then he hears it—they all hear it.

The small terrified whimper you let out, the sound almost heavenly as you try to curl into Mark like your life depends on it. Which you suppose it does at this very moment.

A collective groan settles across all the present variations of Mark, all differing levels of arousal. They can practically taste the fear emanating off of you, stalking closer like a pack of deranged wolves.

Disgust pulls at Mark’s lips at the look in their eyes, his arms trembling around you as the last line of defense between you and these monstrous versions of him. “What the hell are you guys on about?” He seethes, only to be met by a suffocating silence.

Viltrum Mark appears in front of you before you and Mark can process his presence, tearing you out of your boyfriend’s arms despite your screaming protests. His grip is firm, but it’s the underlying softness in it that has you trembling with both fear and confusion. One of his hands finds your chin, stroking the contour of your jaw while his thumb gently presses down on your lower lip in a similar fashion that your Mark had done earlier.

“You’re [Name].” His face twists with perplexion as he speaks. “But, you’re so soft.” You feel his other hand fall from your arm, settling on your hip as if to prove a point. He squeezes and prods the fat, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the soft skin underneath, his fingers splaying against your stomach while his nose buries itself in your neck. “You’d be a great mother.”

No.

No.

No.

This can’t be happening—

You’re pulled into another set of arms. These ones leaner yet more possessive than the Viltrum Mark’s. But not yours.

“Jesus what the fuck is wrong with you.” Mohawk Mark’s voice rasps mockingly above you, his arm curling around you and dangerously close to your breasts. You know he feels your heart stop, snorting cruelly as he pulls you flush against him. His gloved hand tilts your chin up to him cruelly, relishing in the way tears well in your eyes.

“P-Please…” You weakly claw at his wrist despite knowing how useless it is in comparison to his innate strength.

Holy fuck, he could get used to the sound of that.

Man, why couldn’t you be a girl in his world too? Oh, the things he would do to you. How he would ruin you. He wonders if you’re similar to his [Name], the [Name] who trusted him to do the right thing only to die trying to stop what’s already been done. Do you play the same sport as your male counterpart? Enjoy the same food? Ah, whatever, you’re still his, no matter his relation to you. Best friend or otherwise.

“Get away from her you fucking freak!” Your Mark’s garbled voice reaches your ears, his fist colliding with the side of the mohawked variant’s head, sending him careening into the white-clad Viltrumite. Mark doesn’t even get the chance to look over you before he shoots into the air with you in his hold, tucking your head into his shoulder as he whispers calming words into the crown of your head. “I’ve got you, baby,” he echoes his prior sentiment, flying as fast as he can with the cloth-mask and Omni-Man wannabe hot on his tail.

A familiar red glove catches Mark’s leg, snapping it easily. Mark screams, his teeth grinding as he pivots his other leg directly into the variant’s face, no doubt breaking his nose before he crashes into the cloth-masked Mark, who yells obscenities as the two of them crash into the city below.

Finally, silence settles between the two of you. Heavy with confusion. Heavy with fear.

“What the hell was that…” You cling to him, trembling like a newborn fawn in his hold.

“I—I don’t know.” He buries his nose in your neck as he lowers into a desolate field miles away from any civilization, breathing in your comforting scent beneath the smell of iron and ash that seem to cling to your skin while he settles against a tree. The field is peaceful; untouched by the destruction that plagues the rest of the world.

“...What about Eve and the others?” You hesitate, palms hovering over his broken leg to do your best to put the limb back together. The bone melds back together grotesquely, it's disgusting snap a sound you think you’ll never get used to.

“Eve slipped away before things got ugly. I’m not too sure about the others…” He lets out a low hiss, his fingers digging into the ground when his skin gets pulled tautly back into place. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I won’t let them get to you, not as long as I’m still breathing, alright?”

“Okay,” you breathe out, collapsing into his chest as you try not to think about everything you’ve lost in such a short amount of time. He kisses your forehead gently, leaning back against the tree for only a moment of respite.

“Aww, what a cute sight.” A patronizing voice overhead has both of you snapping your heads to the sound. Clad in yellow and black with a billowing cape behind him, this version of Mark sneers, his gaze looking between you and Mark. His brows raise beneath his mask, lips forming something akin to a sadistic grin. “Well, well, well. You’re looking a bit different here, aren’t you, [Name]?”

Shit.

©asarii 2025 — do not copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my works on tumblr or any other site or run my works through ai

[luveline]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

you get a good dose, confess your affections, and leave poor, oblivious hotch to fix things up neatly. 

cw painkiller high, light suggestive theme 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

“Hello.” 

You lift your gaze without blinking. Hotch is standing in the doorway, making his way in with a bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm and a white envelope against his chest. 

“Hello,” he says again, meeting your wide, still eyes with concern. “You okay?” 

“Flowers for me?” 

“You’re the one here in a hospital bed. They’re from me and Jack. He insisted.” 

You nod up and down robotically. Your heart is unhappy today. You’ve been fast and slow and now it’s running fast again, a tip-tip-tip on the heart monitor that makes Hotch frown. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “They told me you were on a lot of pain medication, you shouldn’t be hurting anymore. Is it not working?” 

“I feel a lot.” 

“And that’s unsettling,” he surmises.

“Can I have my flowers?” 

Hotch offers them to you immediately. “Why don’t you count to a hundred for me?” 

“They’re beautiful, but there’s not that many.” 

“Count to one hundred. I can start. Do you need me to start for you?” 

You dip your face into the flowers. “I love when you say stuff like that.” 

Hotch doesn’t answer you. You begin counting, hoping he’ll say a nice thing if you do as he asked. The numbers get mixed up after thirty five, there really aren’t enough flowers to count to a hundred, but when forty five and fifty four begin to feel like the same number spiritually, Hotch reaches for your forearm and gives it a squeeze. That means job well done. Nobody else in the team gets arm squeezes —they’re for you. Nobody else has noticed, but you have. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

You beam at him. The heart monitor beeps in slow loops. “You’re welcome. Did it help?” 

“I’d say so.” He takes off his suit jacket and puts it over the back of the chair, pulling the chair towards the bed with his foot, and getting comfortable beside you, a little lower down than you but tall regardless. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“I can’t believe you got me flowers.” 

“I got you flowers the last time you were injured.” 

“I know,” you say with a laugh. “I know, it was amazing.” 

“Here’s your card from Jack. I’ve opened it for you, I hope that’s okay.” 

“I cannot open anything. I tried to stab my pudding open with a spoon and broke it and can’t find the sharp part in my blankets. I’m worried it’s going to poke me.” 

Hotch stands from his chair. “That’s not good.” 

You take up Jack’s card, pinching the folded printer paper and pulling all of its homemade glory from the envelope. The front has a red heart drawn with bandages wrapped around it, and inside is a message written in impressive penmanship considering his age. To Y/N, it says, Please get well soon. We are hoping you to have a speedy recovery! Love you, Jack and Aaron 

“It says you love me,” you say. 

“Mm, Jack wrote the message. He misses you.” 

You catch the feeling of Hotch’s hand where it slips between your legs and almost burst, giggling excitedly, which makes his hand jump away from you like a fish out of water. “You have the spoon!” 

“Found it. No more danger.” 

“Thank you. I knew you could find it.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

The pain medication Hotch spoke of is starting to make itself known. You hadn’t felt very different to begin with, the only worthy note your absence of pain, but right now you feel weird. Light. Happy, but strange, like the opposite feeling of missing a step. You know something’s wrong and you know it’s the medication, but you’re elated at the same time. Hotch is here. Maybe it’s just him. Maybe he’ll know. 

“Do you think I feel happy ‘cos of you or the morphine?” you ask. Softly, slurring, you swallow and try not to sound as drunk. “I feel amazing.” 

“It’s the morphine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Well, it’s been a long time since I had some myself, but I remember feeling amazing at the time, and you’re on a lot more of it than I was.” Hotch sets himself back down in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Are you staying for long?” 

“Until they make me leave,” he says. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. Yesterday you were here for ten minutes and I felt like my heart was bruised.” 

He doesn’t speak for a moment. His eyes seem darker than usual. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I had to be home to take care of Jack.” 

“I know you had to, it’s not your fault, but I still missed you.” 

You prop Jack’s amazing card on the nightstand with a proud grin. You love Jack Hotchner, he’s the smartest, kindest, sweetest boy you’ve ever met, and it must be because of his parents. You’ve not met Haley many times, but Hotch is amazing. It makes sense that his kid would be just as awesome as he is. Turning your attention back to the flowers, you find the courage to ask, “Do you think you could bring Jack to see me?” 

“I think he might be a little young for hospitals, I’m sorry.” 

“Well, maybe I can see him when I’m out of the hospital? How can I say thank you for the card? Does he still like bears?” 

“He has enough bears,” Hotch says gently. “You don’t need to buy him anything, he just wants you to get better soon.” 

“You’re such a good dad.” Your lashes kiss with the force of your smile. “You’re lovely. Jack is really kind.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re handsome,” you continue, slinking down in the bed. You feel tired but not sleepy, craving a really big, hot sandwich. Hotch holds your gaze. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“What?” he asks quietly. 

“Can you please get me a big, hot sandwich? Maybe with hot chicken? Or spicy chicken in a burrito? I really need it to be hot.” 

Hotch laughs aloud and reaches for your forearm to squeeze you again. “Of course I can. I’ll call Derek and I’ll make him get you both of those things, if you like.” 

“Oh, good. I really really don’t want you to leave but I really want the sandwich more than I want you to stay.” You tip your head to one side. “If you hugged me again I’d say I want you to stay more than I want the sandwich, ‘cos you haven’t hugged me in a long time.” 

“Does that bother you?” he asks, the pad of his thumb working against your wrist. 

“No, I know I’m not supposed to want you to hug me.” 

“We’re friends,” he says, shaking his head, “good friends, aren’t we? It’s alright if you want a hug. I should be better at giving them.” 

When he was with Haley you wouldn’t have dreamed of wanting it, because your affection for him has always been more than a friend‘s. You’ve guarded the secret carefully over the years. What’s more unfair to a wife than to fancy her husband? But Haley left Hotch, and he’s been single for a while now, and you think that lately he’s actively dating. He’s always had pride in his appearance, but his suits are tailored again. His hair is left to grow beyond what’s easily maintained. He and Dave occasionally joke about him getting back out there —he doesn’t need to get out there, you’re right here. 

You can’t help frowning. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“I think I’m a bad friend.” 

“You aren’t a bad friend.” 

“I am, I have ulterior motives.” 

Hotch rolls his eyes. “Honey, everybody does. You’re fine. You’re a good friend. You know you’re the sole member of the team who’s remembered Jack’s birthday every year? Remembered mine?” 

“I don’t do that to be a good friend, I just love Jack.” 

His hand slips down to yours. He holds it briefly. “I know you do.” 

“It’s why I remember yours,” you say, shaking your head, annoyed he’s taken his hand back but ready to move on to better things. “Can you ask Derek for my sandwich now, please? Please, please, I’m so hungry I’m gonna die.” 

Hotch gives you a funny look. “How about I go and get you your sandwich? I’ll be very fast. I’ll go to Sam’s across the street, would you like that?” 

“Can I have maybe a donut too?” 

“Sure, honey. I’ll get you a half dozen.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure. Do you want any in particular?” 

Hotch goes off to get you a sandwich and you click the button for more morphine without really thinking. You’re asleep before he gets back.

—

You wake up shaking. 

Aaron straightens in his chair. He hadn’t meant to doze off, but it’s nearing the end of your visiting hours and he’s been here since three. Your sandwich is stone cold in the bag and he’s not sure how he’ll get it warmed up.

Your arms are trembling badly. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. 

“Sorry.” 

“What for?” 

“Hotch, where am I?” 

Aaron stands. “You’re in the hospital. You’ve had some morphine and it ended up sedating you. The shaking will calm down soon, but nothing’s wrong, okay?” 

You’re noticeably confused, and Aaron hates it enough to sew his fingers between yours. His are thicker by quite a bit, but he’s used to smaller hands. He’s careful with you. He can’t stop thinking about what you said earlier. 

The undercurrent of fear you’d been harbouring begins to ebb. You let Aaron hold your hand and settle back down into your sheets, turning your face toward him and shutting your eyes. You don’t seem sleepy. He’s not sure what’s wrong. 

When you say you love him, he understands. He loves you, too. He doesn’t think that he’s in love with you, but he could be. He’s had enough guilty daydreams about it, batted them away, moments doing the dishes or at the gym or when you’re standing together working a case, where he forgets to forbid himself the pleasure and imagines you in simple intimacies. He sees himself taking your hand. He pictures waking up to the smell of you on his pillows. When he’s especially pent up and you’ve haunted him with your bare face or a shy smile, he ends the day thinking of you. How he’d kiss your head with just a little of his weight atop you, or a lot. 

And then he feels so horribly wrong for doing it that he resigns himself to the distance between you forever. 

Aaron doesn’t know what you want from him, but he knows he could fall in love with you if given the chance. He has to determine how honest your morphine-confession was, and there’s no time like the present. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks softly. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back. 

“I brought you the donuts and a sandwich, but I’ll have to reheat it. I’m sorry.” 

“Did I ask for a sandwich?” you ask, startled.

“A hot one. You emphasised.” 

“Thank you, Aaron. I don’t think I’m hungry now, I’m kinda queasy.” 

“You had a little bit more morphine than you should’ve.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says under his breath, “that’s not your fault.” 

You squeeze his hand weakly. Any want to draw the truth from you is quickly dwindling. All he wants now is to make sure you’re okay. 

He spills himself closer to you and, without untangling your hands, brings your thin blankets to your shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay. The queasiness won’t last long. In fact, eating might help, but we can wait.” 

“Don’t you have to go home?” 

“No, I can stay if you want me to.” 

“Please, I want you to.” 

“You’re still on the morphine,” he says, rubbing your hand, “I can ask them to lower your dosage if you don’t like it, but you have to remember that it’s keeping you unaware of your pain.” 

You hesitate. “I don’t want it to hurt.” 

“Then it won’t,” he promises. You had more than your fair share of pain. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“This is all I want. For you to look after me.” 

He takes a measured breath. “I would love to look after you.” 

You turn your head half an inch to see him. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” He’s trying to blend the half of him you know at work with the half of him responsible for his outer life, the part of him that flirts with beautiful women at bars, the part of him that loved being a husband. “I don’t know what you want, and now isn’t the time, but,” —he prepares to be brave— “if you want me to look after you, then I will.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.”

“Can you kiss me?” 

His heart skips a beat. “No, honey, I can’t, I’m sorry.” 

“Not even on the head?” 

His stomach aches, but it’s a good feeling. Like worrying you lost something and finding it in the first place you’ve looked. “On the head I can do.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed in wait of his kiss, a light, chaste brush of the lips to your temple. The morphine makes you laugh, a girly, giggly bubble of it as you burrow into the sheets, like he’s tickled you. He’s twice as endeared when you squint at him like you’re waiting. 

“Can I–”

“One more,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead again. “Any more than that and you’ll die of embarrassment when you’re not drugged out of your mind.” 

“I’m not out of my mind. I’m just hallucinating. Or having a great dream.” 

He’s inclined to agree, but he knows with confidence he hasn’t had any heavy medication today. He gives you a fond look and sits back down, obliging you when you scramble to put your hand in his again. It’s a weight he could get used to holding.

“I really like you,” you confess quietly. 

He quite likes you in return. “That’s great, honey. Do you want to talk about it later? Maybe you can have one of your donuts.” 

You don’t take his misdirection as rejection, you just pull his hand to your chest and smile. “No thank you. I can wait.” 

He can wait too. 

[aangelinakii]

BATBOYS + SITTING ON THEIR BACK DURING PUSH-UPS.

note : personally i would love someone to push up w me on their back ,,, and also no damian just becquse i couldn't rhink of a scenario soz aloz

BRUCE WAYNE.

the kids had forced offered bruce a night off, after performing his nightly duties too many months in a row. now, sitting in bed with a book, you found it difficult to concentrate on the printed words as your partner lingered on the floor by his side of the bed, his quick breaths huffing through your shared bedroom. what on earth could he be doing? flipping the corner of your page down to save your place, you folded the book shut and put it down, rolling over the bed to peer over the side... only to find your wonderous bruce wayne... doing push ups?

"what are you doing?" you'd chuckled with a soft shake of your head.

muscles rippling beneath the flesh of his back, bruce brought his body down, and then pushed himself back up again, his triceps straining against skin. with a grunt he glanced back at you, never ceasing movement. "i need to get energy out before i go to bed. mind you, i'm not usually relaxing by this time."

another laugh brushed past your lips. "then that's not tiring you out." but bruce only sent you another glance, more sheepish this time; you couldn't blame him, not being accustomed to how one normally retires for the evening.

before he could reply again, you were slinging a leg over the side of the mattress and landing on the plush carpeting. bruce's exercise ceased in curiosity, his head turning to run his gaze over your legs. "oh, no, don't stop on my behalf," you grinned, carefully tucking one of your shins along his back and lowing the rest of your weight onto him.

but bruce wayne didn't falter a bit.

instead, he took it in his stride, tucking his arms and moving down, and then pushing up even faster than he'd been doing before. but he couldn't hide the crescent of his eyes and lines at the corners of his mouth as they turned up — he could do this all night.

DICK GRAYSON.

bullets of sweat shot to the floor with each punch, his flesh grunting against the boxing bag hanging from the ceiling. it never had the chance to swing too far, for he was already hitting it from the other side. although you weren't going as hard at it as your boyfriend, your own limbs were straining from exercise.

with a loud exhale, dick stepped away from the swinging sand bag, holding out a shaking hand to steady it. before it could stop, he was already moving to one of the ready-laid mats.

without a second too long of a break, he was down on his palms, moving up and down, his triceps tensing and bulging in his flesh. the way he kept glancing at you every few moments was making it very difficult to focus on your own workout.

ceasing your movements, you looked over at him with crossed arms. "anything i can help you with?" it was half a joke, expecting him to just grunt a chuckle and shake his head, getting caught red-handed checking you out. instead, he allowed a few seconds' silence, and then hummed.

"yes, actually." his voice was strained against his action, but he'd be damned if he stopped now just to speak. "come here, will you?"

it's not like you're busy or anything. but who were you to deny one dashingly handsome dick grayson your time and energy; especially when that's what you were dating him for.

unable to bite back a smile, you made your way over. "okay... what now?"

"sit on my back."

despite the tension in his throat as he spoke, dick didn't pause his push-ups — and you were supposed to sit on him like this? right...

however strange it may have been to try sit down on a moving man's back, the sheer fact dick could push-up your body weight made it worth it (no matter how many times you fell off before finally sticking it).

JASON TODD.

relaxing days — no work, no appointments, nothing to do — had to be the best days. especially here, as you and jason lay belly-down on the floor, using your glorious free time to complete a puzzle book you'd found at the grocery store the other day.

well... jason was belly-down on the floor; you were belly-down on his back, peering over his shoulder and pointing at the page, giving your contributions.

it got to the point where you were both on the last page, pen marks etched into the paper from where you'd scribbled answers and numbers and words, but you were stumped. with a huff, jason flicked the pen from his fingers, landing with a thump a metre away. "how are they gonna make puzzles you can't even solve? stupid..."

"hey, hey," you chuckled, bringing your fingers to scratch lovingly at his jaw. "i can get us a new one. want to go now?" as the words left your mouth, you moved one leg from where it lay entwined with his, preparing to get ready for an outing.

but jason was too quick, and too stubborn. before you could react, he'd pulled one arm from beneath him and lightly pressed down on your back, keeping you in place. "no, i'm joking," he mumbled. "please, let's just stay."

anything for him.

and so you fell limp against him once more, arms folding beneath your chin so you could rest your head, eyes fluttering closed. silence ran through the apartment, aside from the soft workings of jason's breathing beneath your ear; outside the city buzzed, but, by now, it was more background noise. perhaps a little nap wouldn't hurt—

something was moving beneath you, and your eyes shot open in alarm, arms shooting out from beneath you and clinging to the nearest thing – which happened to be around jason's waist. although you weren't moving, the coffee table beside you was bobbing up and down, and you couldn't possiblt fathom what was happning, until you realised...

"don't want to miss a workout," jason grunted from below, as if reading your mind. no lazy day was truly lazy when you had a jason peter todd to mind.

TIM DRAKE.

"i bet i could do that," tim spoke from the other end of the couch, where his socked feet were prodding your legs, probably in a surreptitious attempt to get them massaged. "no sweat."

you glanced between the tv and him, your lovely boyfriend tim, who would come up in the dictionary if you searched for the word overzealous. on the screen, playing the scene of a bizarre film you'd flipped to, the main love interest was working out when the main character stumbled into the room; there was some fleeting dialogue, and then, before you could find an explanation for it, she was sitting on his back as he continued his workout.

"what, you—" now when you looked over at tim, he had that wide grin on his face, and you knew you were in for something. "you want to try it now?"

without much of an answer, tim was rising to his feet, adjusting the waistband of the linen pyjama pants he wore, and fell to his hands and knees. "i mean, if you insist," he scoffed playfully. "try not to fall in love with me even more."

something about this didn't feel right... tim was certainly muscular, certainly strong — you'd seen him in action — but you didn't have much trust in him this time. regardless of your worries, you shimmied from your seat on the couch and carefully arranged yourself, legs crossed, on tim's back.

he only shook a bit at first, his legs now outstretched behind him, arms firm as logs. but he wasn't moving, just frozen in the plank position.

peering over his shoulder at him, you asked, "what's with the hold-up?"

pink in the cheeks, jaw clenched, tim's voice barely came out through his teeth. "yeah, just... wait—"

carefully – and very slowly – tim lowered himself, and in addition you, down, until his toned chest was millimetres away from the floor, and then, just as slowly, he pushed back against the ground.

once he was back in his starting position, he shifted beneath you, almost toppling you overboard. "okay, okay, i'm done!" he gasped. "my abs are gonna kill me!"

DUKE THOMAS.

being sick for the past week, you'd found it difficult to encourage yourself out of the house to go visit the gym — so, instead, you'd resorted to working out at home.

duke returned home the moment the sun began to dip below darkening clouds, his warmth radiating through the house as he closed the door behind him. he called something into the living room, but it went unheard beneath the instructions playing on the telly.

"oh, you working out?" he hummed as he entered, raking his eyes over your form and the synchronised movements on the tv screen.

mid-movement, you grunted a yeah, and duke edged around you to sit on the couch.

finally, when your break came, you collapsed to your mat and turned to him, grabbing your water bottle on the coffee table. "how was patrol?" you breathed.

the corners of duke's mouth turned up in a grin, clearly bemused by the sheen of sweat along your brow. "yeah, great." his eyes glanced over to the screen — two more minutes of your break, and it looked like you'd be attempting a five-minute plank. "mind if i work in with you?"

you glanced back, sipping at your water, and gave a half-chuckle. "i would've thought you'd be too tired for more exercise."

duke's bottom lip jutted out with a casual shrug. "i've missed you, we can do it together."

unfortunately, you couldn't ignore that little smile, that charm he held like a secret. and so you put your water bottle back on the table and duke joined you, beside your mat.

when the timer was up, you braced yourself for your plank, but duke, also on his knees, caught your attention — some stupid smile lingered on his lips, like he had a cheeky plan. "i don't know if a plank will be difficult enough for me."

"well done," you scoffed playfully. "just because it's easy for you, doesn't mean it's easy for me."

he held out a hand to diffuse any wrong ideas. "no, i just meant i think i know a way to break a sweat."

at this, you eyed him suspiciously, albeit curiously. before you could question him any further, he was on his palms and tip of his toes, gesturing you to sit on his back.

after a few "are you crazy?"s, you found yourself sitting on his back, trying not to touch him too much with your overly-warm limbs, lowering and raising with ease, your youtube workout by now forgotten.

[bumblehoneybee]

idk why but i just imagined shadow circling the reader like all hedgehogs do when they like each other. it's weird but the little guy can't bring himself to confess in a proper way (story request? if u could🙏)

Come Full Circle

Shadow was a weird guy. He just was. But anyone who grew up how he did would be weird, so you put a lot of his strange habits out of your mind. So, you didn't pay it much attention when Shadow's habit of pacing turned into him walking around you.

It wasn't as obvious as him obsessively grooming his quills or him checking his shoes when he was bored. Shadow moved with purpose more often than not, so as he made his way around you, tapping his foot and scanning the perimeter, it took a few laps for you to realize that he was orbiting you like a moon caught by your gravity.

"Everything alright?" You asked, futzing with your outfit to not appear put off by his behavior. The last thing you wanted was to weird him out of things he did to comfort himself. Gaia knew he hardly allowed himself these things.

"Mm." Was all Shadow gave you, his face obscured.

So you shrugged and continued on with your day.

However, when the day winded down into dinnertime, you found yourself surrounded by others, most importantly other hedgehogs. Amy and Sonic specifically stared at you and the ever-orbiting Shadow with wide eyes, which unnerved you. And when you were unnerved, Shadow was biting, so at least they weren't staring for long.

Instead, you caught them giggling to each other, Amy especially joyful.

She caught your hand when Sonic got Shadow's attention with a race.

"Shadow's been circling you, huh?" She asked, smile small but knowing.

"Yeah?" You cocked your head. "What? Don't tell me it means something."

"For a hedgehog like Shadow," Amy began, pausing so you'd huff at her, "it means he likes you."

You were not impressed. "Cool. I like him too."

Amy slugged your arm, and like a bolt of lightning, Shadow appeared before the two of you. You stumbled forward into him, but he easily caught you, giving Amy a halfhearted glare. She didn't speak, but put her hands up in faux surrender.

"Loves you." She said to you, skipping off to soothe the bruised ego of one blue hedgehog. You watched her go, eyes widening when Sonic did a series of laps around her, seemingly just happy to see her.

Loves you. Oh Gaia, ohhhhhhh. . .

Shadow's voice snapped you into reality. "What did she say? Loves you?"

You shook your head to clear it. "Guess she loves me."

Shadow huffed a little, confused but unwilling to ask more questions. Seeing him finally still for once, you carefully began to step behind him. Shadow turns with you for a moment, brows furrowed, but they widen as you begin your second lap.

You had never seen him so still. A smile tugged at your face, but you didn't tease, didn't say anything. Instead, you circled your lovely hedgehog, watching him start to squirm and blush.

But he didn't leave.

Hopefully you'd get a kiss out of him today too.

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

Ways I can think of that “DanDaDan” differs from other shonen series:

* Female MC is as important as male MC

* Canon romance gets consistent development through the series. I think that’s part of the reason why the MC ships with the rivals (Aira, Jiji) aren’t as popular with the fandom for once. The main ship is actually getting good development, so the fanbase doesn’t have to make up headcanons to fill in the space.

* Flips the found family trope on its head by having the main group despise new people whenever they show up and they even actively try to kick them out. The new people only end up staying because they keep lingering around to the point that the main group just gives up and lets them stay.

* The rivals aren’t emo or angst-ridden. Aira is a delusional tryhard popular girl while Jiji is a himbo drama queen. I’d even go as far to say that the MCs are the ones who are emo and angst-ridden.

* Supporting cast is more than just important, they become integral to the story. I’d say that the further you read into DanDaDan, the more it becomes an ensemble cast where everyone is a protagonist in their own right.

* World-building is all over the place, but in a good way. Most other shonen are pretty consistent with what kind of world their characters live in. MHA is superhero-based, Naruto is ninjas and magic, Bleach is spirits, and so on. DanDaDan feels like the author just throws whatever cool shit they can think of into the story. That’s actually the reason why I wrote in a different post that DanDaDan reminds me more of Marvel/DC than any other shonen series, it manages to capture the catch-all insanity of those comics.

* Doesn’t rely on hidden power-ups. The main characters either have to outsmart the villains or they have to train to get better with the powers they already have.

* The pervert comic relief guy is actually endearing for once. Not because of his pervert tendencies, but because he’s so oblivious to how socially inept he is that it’s kind of funny. This is gonna sound strange, but he sorta reminds me of Thor in Thor Ragnarok. Full of himself and oblivious to how dumb he can be. He’s Thor without the good looks lol.

* Flips the “nerdy outcast loser somehow gets a harem” trope. Instead of making Okarun cooler than how he actually is, the story emphasizes that the women who fall for Okarun are as weird as him. Momo is a weird outcast, Aira has main character syndrome, Vamola doesn’t understand how to human because she’s literally not one, Rin thought Okarun was a vampire (and wanted him to be).

* Flips the “elderly figure in charge of the teenagers” trope. I don’t really get motherly figure vibes from Seiko Ayase, I get more “cool wine aunt who is stuck with her niece” vibes. In fact, there was the arc where Okarun showed up to her in spirit mode to get her help with fighting off the alien invasion and Seiko’s response was, “Well, I’m not in the area and I have other shit to do, so you kids figure it out.”

* The series takes the piss out of the trope of mystical/magical items that the group acquired to get their powers. I mean…the main mystical MacGuffin in the series are Okarun’s balls.

* Okarun was about to go into an “I’m weak / I wish I was stronger / I want to get stronger for my friends” breakdown, but Turbo Granny told him to shut up and keep fighting.

* Not afraid to put the “cool girl” in as many funny situations as possible. Off the top of my head, the series built up Momo as this cool, tough girl who doesn’t take shit from anyone…then several chapters later, Okarun found out she got a job at a maid cafe.

(Feel free to add to the list!)