#the thing I am more consistent about is lacking consistency

[bogwaterparasite]

Character Building!! (Saja boys edition)

Characters: Saja Boys (except Jinu)

A/N: Am I milking the fact that my HC’s seemed to be doing well? Yes. I’m also taking advantage of the fact that these characters don’t really have a storyline or anything of their own to sorta create their own personalities to use when I write fanfiction! Sue me, I love them.

Just fyi. I’m currently working on requests! So don’t fret, I haven’t forgotten about you

Previous post!! - SAJA HC’s

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Baby saja (Eun-young)

✮⋆˙ I’ve decided the name based off of the meaning that can be given to it. Eun-young can translate to both graceful flower or silver petal. I think it’s kinda fitting considering his soft boy sort of aesthetic, yet it serves as a good contrast to the personality given to him.

✮⋆˙ I believe that he got recruited by Jinu due to his musical talent. He’s a rapper, and a very good one at that, but unlike jinu? It isn’t something he’s been practicing ever since he was a human

✮⋆˙ Matter of fact, I don’t believe he was ever human. Despite Jinu saying that Gwi-Ma controlled the demons by the guilt they possessed, there is a possibility for some demons to just be summoned or created with the sole purpose of getting souls/defeating the demon hunters.

✮⋆˙ Eun-young’s talent developed from curiosity. He had always had a fascination for technology and the way things worked in the human world given that Gwa-Mi’s realm seems to be nothing but a void, and all of their entertainment is given by none other than Gwa-Mi himself. During the beginnings of the creation of cellphones, he most definitely stole one in order to take it back. While this action is suspicious on itself, he can always use the pretext of wanting to be connected in order to deceive the humans and collect souls with more efficiency.

✮⋆˙ While indulging in human media, he found himself drawn towards music, but not ALL music, rap specifically. He’d do most of his practicing down in earth, using it as a way to get closer with certain humans (and singers which I assume have more powerful souls) and developing his skills while still accomplishing the task given to him by Gwa-Mi.

✮⋆˙ Despite his gravelly voice, he was never truly into the stereotypical rapper appearance. The soft boy look seemed to be what called to him more than anything else, comfortable and colorful outfits that contrast the traditional dark appearance he holds in his demon form. It creates a sort of trustworthy character for humans, specially women, which he takes advantage of to the fullest.

✮⋆˙ Given that he is a made demon, he is rather devoid of emotion. Hes not a hateful person, but just holds little interest for things that he hasn’t developed an interest for, which is why he’s so willing to do pretty much anything. Even then, he will always go back to what he’s used to, which is doing nothing while scrolling through media.

✮⋆˙ He lacks taste buds, so his preferences of food come from the texture and feeling that they create. Colder things tend to have a thicker consistency than he finds rather enjoyable, which eventually developed into a liking of squishy and chewy foods rather than crunchy.

✮⋆˙ Even though he’s rather devoid of emotion, his vast interactions with humans and the human world caused him to develop more of a consciousness than other demons. This is what allows for Gwa-Mi to filter the voices into his mind, which although rare, still bother him just as much as the rest of the demons.

Abs Saja (Ho-Seok)

✮⋆˙ I’m not quite sure what the full name stands for, however, the translation for Seok is put as stone or rock. I think this kinda makes sense since I see abs as being sort of a reliable person? Idk how that makes sense considering he’s a demon, but yk.

✮⋆˙ I’m not too sure if All demons have formed pacts with Gwa-Mi or just Jinu? I’m running with the idea that not all of them were human, or have had to make a pact with him in order to become demons, but in this case? Abs did.

✮⋆˙ Born during the Joeson dynasty, about 80% of the families participated in agricultural farming(including his own), making it an incredibly competitive market. Due to increasing tariffs and environmental struggles, his family wasn’t the most wealthy. Unable to hire more workers, they used their 4 children to help around the farm, their pay being the fact that they got to survive another day. Ho-Seok was the oldest and strongest, which meant that majority of the tasks were handed to him in order for the farm to stay afloat. Although this was somewhat unfair, he did get a portion of the profits (although not much) which kept him quiet for the most part.

✮⋆˙ As he grew up, he became unsatisfied by the life he was living. Due to old age, his father wasn’t able to work anymore, which now meant that all the responsibilities (whether it was about the farm or the family) fell on him. This caused him to grow resentful of his family, the inability to provide for him and their children, while also having to deal with 3 children all at once began to take a toll on him.

✮⋆˙ There was one thing that he looked forward to however, a girl he had been crushing on for quite sometime. She frequented the farm for supplies, and she always served as a balm for his worries (even though she wasn’t aware of it).

✮⋆˙ In the end, all of these problems and responsibilities were what led him to create a pact with Gwa-Mi, becoming a demon in order to finally be able to live comfortably. He left his family to fend for themselves, slowly elevating his status by working with other members and eventually ending up as a chef in the palace. Despite him not thinking that he had any guilt about what he’d done, the marks were slowly consuming him.

✮⋆˙ What drove him to be at Gwa-Mi’s control for eternity was a simple mistake, at least he says it was a mistake. With his newfound status, he was going to confess his love to his beloved.. however, he was soon to find out she was betrothed to another.

✮⋆˙ This enraged him, as for now, even if he had gained more than what he wished to accomplish, he had lost everything that once made him who he was. In an attempt to salvage whatever there was left, he tried to consume the soul of her beloved, only to end up consuming hers by accident.

✮⋆˙ This served as a catalyst for his full transformation to becoming a demon, all his guilt consuming him whole and casting him into the life of eternal suffering.

✮⋆˙ He was scouted out by Jinu due to him being one of the strongest demons, he had no musical experience beforehand, so training him was sorta… difficult, but in the end it worked.

Romance Saja (Min-Joon)

✮⋆˙ Much like the other names, Minjoon can have a LOT of interpretations. Min can mean; quick, clever or sharp, and sometimes it can also be gentle or affable depending on the hanja characters used. While Joon means talented, handsome, or outstanding, which in my opinion? Is very fitting to him.

✮⋆˙ Unlike Eunyoung or Hoseok, Minjoon was a human up until recently, but he didn’t make a pact with Gwa-Mi, but rather made a deal with Jinu in exchange for his soul.

✮⋆˙ When Minjoon was young, his father left him and his mother to peruse a “better life” with his affair partner, leaving them to fend for themselves. His mother tried to make this transition as easy as possible for Minjoon, taking more hours in order to keep their income coming and still provide extra cash for whatever he might want, yet, this left little to no time to spend with her son.

✮⋆˙ He didn’t really resent his mother for this, quite the opposite really. Seeing her so driven to provide comfort to their lives despite their losses made him want to do better, to someday be able to provide for her the same way she was providing for him. In his search for ways to get rich, he came across the idol world. It wasn’t just the money that attracted him to it, but rather the musical aspect of it. They all seemed to have so much fun, doing something they enjoyed while inspiring others to do the same, didn’t that sound like the dream?

✮⋆˙ What drew him in more than anything were the choreographies, there was something about the way they moved along with every beat, every move perfectly aligned with the lyrics, it just felt right, something he wanted to do.

✮⋆˙ It was during highschool that he started to act upon this, creating a social media account and beginning to train himself to dance and create his own style. Despite what influencers might make you think, gaining a following was quite hard, not getting many interactions often left him disillusioned, but it didn’t stop him. The more he practiced, the better he got, and slowly his confidence and following grew.

✮⋆˙ He usually kept his interest quiet from everyone at school, but once, while practicing in an empty classroom, he managed to find someone who shared a similar dream to him.

✮⋆˙ The two of them grew closer, and they slowly began working to get their dreams come true. Eunseong was a composer, and combining this with the dances Minjoon was able to create along those lyrics, they seemed like the perfect match. However, both of them lacked in the aspect of singing, something that set them back by a long shot in the world of idols and k-pop groups.

✮⋆˙ Even as they grew, and they were able to get a following from their creations, the dream of becoming big was still far from them. In an attempt to better their voices, they went to Dr. Ramune for his “amazing” tonics, but as we all know, it didn’t work. And that’s where Jinu came into play.

✮⋆˙ One unfortunate night, both met Jinu outside of a shop. He offered them what they desired the most, a group to succeed, the voices they so desired, all of their dreams granted, just for the price of their soul. Who would be able to pass up on that offer?

✮⋆˙ And that’s how things came to be. Now with a group, a fame so vast they got everything they wanted, what else was there for him to want? Well, it seemed that he had forgotten a tiny detail.. the mother which he had worked so hard for, who never heard from him again.

Mystery Saja (Eun-Seong)

✮⋆˙ once again with the names and the meanings, hopefully you aren’t getting too tired of them lmfao. Eunseong can be roughly translated to many great;abundant, flourishing. Eun meaning kindness, mercy, or silver. It can also refer to grace, favor, or gratitude. And Seong meaning success, accomplishment, or flourishing. It can also be interpreted as sincere, honest, or true. All of these names are just things I believe are fitting to their character.

✮⋆˙ Alike Minjoon, Eunseong was also a human up until recently, matter of fact, he knew Minjoon personally, as he was his only friend throughout school.

✮⋆˙ He was born into a wealthy family, a very detached one at that. Family dinners were usually spent silent, or talking about the successes/faults of their family or company. This type of family style caused him to grow rather quiet, he hated big crowds, as they were nothing other than means to gain status, so he didn’t really socialize much with others in school. Most of his thoughts and feelings were written down on notebooks, and those words slowly developed into poems, poems that eventually turned into lyrics.

✮⋆˙ As his love for music grew, so did his feeling of isolation. He knew he couldn’t talk about this with his family, as a career as an idol was seen as taboo. He had so many ways to earn a living and get rich, and he decided to do that? His father would never allow it. Not only that, but the kids at his school who said they wanted to follow such dreams were just.. idiots. None of them cared for anything other than singing already made songs, doing the same as every other group out there did, they wanted fame and money without working hard for it.

✮⋆˙ That was up until he met Minjoon. It was by accident really, he just heard a song coming out from one of the classrooms and he decided to snoop, only to find him dancing in there. From then on, their relationship grew.

✮⋆˙ Minjoon was unlike anyone he had met before, he didn’t mind his quiet nature, matter of fact, he sort of loved it. While Eunseong stayed quiet and wrote, he would yap his ear off, even offering some advice about the lyrics while beginning to create his own choreography to it. He was.. odd, but he didn’t mind, after all, when was the last time he had this much fun with someone else?

✮⋆˙ Eventually, as they grew up, he opened up about his wishes to become an idol to his family, and just as expected, they didn’t react well to the news. Considering they were well out of high school, his father kicked him out of their home, putting the ultimatum to not come back unless he rethinks his life choices.

✮⋆˙ This wasn’t much of a problem, as he had saved up enough of his allowance to get an apartment, and after telling Minjoon after the whole ordeal, they both worked together to rent a place of their own, beginning to work hard to accomplish their goals.

✮⋆˙ Despite all the effort they put into their videos, it seemed to not be amounting to anything. They had a few debuts, and a small following of fans, but no matter what they did, they weren’t accomplishing what they truly wanted. This made him slowly start to loose hope, seriously reconsidering his fathers offer, however, Minjoo wasn’t giving up so easily.

✮⋆˙ Tonics, some sort of witchcraft, doing crazy dares, whatever crazy idea his partner came up with, he would follow. Did he truly think they would work? No, but seeing him so determined to not let their dream die out made him share the sentiment. That was up until they found this.. guy?.

✮⋆˙ Jinu, a self proclaimed demon who told them he would make their dreams come true all in exchange of his soul. It seemed shady as hell, and he was highly against the idea of handing whoever the hell he was anything valuable of theirs, he was going to decline, tell this man to fuck off, yet, seeing the desperation in Minjoon’s face, he couldn’t bring himself to. In the end, they both agreed.

✮⋆˙ And that’s how things came to be. They succeeded in their dreams, gaining the title of idols, their hard work finally paying off, yet, in the process, they seemingly lost themselves.

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I had a lot of fun with these, AND ONCE AGAIN, these are all up for interpretation! The Saja boys have no canon names or personalities really, so I’m just making it up on vibes and whimsy. Besides, I will be using these if/when I write about them, so feel free to do so as well!! And if you do, please @ me or lmk because I would love to see what you guys create with them :>

Reblogs are appreciated!

[jacksamiras]

the idea that some people just do the things they think about doing. wild.

[unraveling-plot]

I'm thinking about gender in ORV, which is always a dangerous game

[britneyshakespeare]

You know what's a realization I've made just now at this moment. I've been thinking for the last couple of days about how lately my poetry feels like it has no significance to me anymore, and I don't know why or how. It certainly felt more significant to me when I was youngest, when my poetic offerings were least often worthy of much praise, when I was excited and felt catharsis. Before I was even twenty, poetry became more of a craft/hobby than a diary (to give myself credit, it was a craft/hobby when I was fourteen/fifteen too, but I built that craft/hobby out of my teenage sentiments and obsessions rather than a more concerted effort of skill or construction). And it's been many years since I wrote poetry that was about people; I can't tell you the last time I wrote a poem that was purely about my feelings for another person. More often I write poems about conflicts or problems or things I'm figuring out. Very often my poetry is just inspired by whatever book I'm reading. But I'm not interested in my poetry lately whatsoever; I write it coincidentally. I have no interest in elaborating through that medium anymore at this point in my life. I'm not sure why I continue. And my realization is that I actually have felt this before. My poetry feels like a dormant interest because very few things inspire or excite me right now. My poetry feels insignificant when I'm in a phase where my life feels insignificant.

[pencil-n-pen]

I’M STILL TRYING EVERYTHING

⋆° 𐙚 ₊🧦☕🧸₊°⋆ ೀ₊°⋆

previous | kofi | masterlist

post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

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I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me.

-mirrorball, taylor swift

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summary: you’ve never had a date or a relationship that either didn’t work out or end in disaster. now that you have spencer, you’re determined not to let it happen again

cw: referenced bad past relationships, very very vaguely referenced past domestic abuse that honestly could be taken a different way, referenced child abuse (readers parents are STILL not it) again this is a criminal minds fic so references to graphic violence

tags/tropes: hurt/comfort (do i even need to say this? you all know who i am) insecurity, like one line of misogyny and it’s in the past and not brought up again, spencer being soft n worried, HEALTHY COMMUNICATION, spencer is just as gone for reader as she is for him honestly he's just a sap

a/n: back by popular demand !! seriously guys, you have no idea how much the support and comments and reblogs and asks means to me 🥹 the overwhelming amount of love for the first fic made me so happy when people started asking about a sequel i knew i had to !!

read the crossword on the collage for a surprise :)

this one goes out to all my girlies who’ve ever felt like they needed to be less in order to get a boyfriend or keep one. we’ll have our soft love just the way it was meant to be

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Spencer is a really good boyfriend.

Like… a really good boyfriend. You’re not sure if this is how having a real boyfriend is or if Spencer is just like this.

He’s so good to you. He’s just so- so him. You can’t explain it. Can’t put it into words.

He’s very patient with you. You’ve never explicitly stated it, but he’s picked up on your previous relationship experience- or more accurately, your lack thereof. The morning after you’d gone home with him, night consisting of nothing but easy sleep and warmth, he’d asked you out for real. Asked you if you’d go on a date with him, and you’d agreed, a giddy smile fixed firmly on your face.

But you still worry.

All it takes it one conversation with your parents to push things over the edge.

“Yes, dad. He’s very good to me.”

A laugh crackles over the line. “I tell you, your mother and I never thought we’d see the day.”

The words twinge uncomfortably in your chest. “Hey, I’m not that bad. I’ve just been focused.”

“More like uptight.”

“Dad—“

“You know, you still haven’t come out to visit your poor old parents since getting this so-called cushy job. And now you’ve got this boyfriend. You’re too young to settle down. Don’t you think we should meet him?”

Sometimes conversations turn so quickly they leave you stranded— scrambling to pick up pieces of what you thought was going to happen and piece them together to make something new. Something for the new route the conversation has taken.

You couldn’t hold back your sigh if you tried. “We haven’t been dating for that long dad, I don’t want to spring this on him—“

“Sweetie, if we don’t meet him now, why might never meet him. Who knows how long he’s gonna stick around?”

(Sometimes, in moments like these, for just a split second, you wonder how a father could say something like that, to his daughter. You wonder why, wonder what you did wrong. And then, you imagine Hotch saying those same things, and you can’t, and it almost makes you feel a little better.)

Your blood runs cold. “What could you possibly mean by that?”

“Well, you know how things have ended in the past. I’m just saying I’d like to meet him before he’s gone."

You don't dignify his words with a response.

"Come on, honey. I'm just joking with you."

"It's not funny."

"Don't be like that--"

"Goodbye."

You hang up, snapping the phone shut with a sigh.

The older you've gotten, the more conversations with your parents end up like this. You suppose it's the way you 'wasted your potential' or 'never made something of yourself.' They've always held resentment ever since you decided to become an agent. So you know not to take what they say to heart, because their words only come from a place of disappointment and displeasure. It's not a reflection of who you really are or what you've really accomplished.

Or at least, that's what Hotch told you when he'd overheard one of your phone calls. It meant more than you'd let on.

But your Dad's words linger in your head. They're irritating and sharp where they claw around in your head because they're true.

You can count on one hand the amount of romantic endeavors you've had. And from those, they all ended horribly. Your parents lost sympathy towards the end of your attempts, muttered words of needing to try harder to keep them, that you should be satisfied that somebody wanted you at all, that you should try to be less... you.

Try to be less... you, dear. The books and the facts- nobody wants those. Put some more effort into your appearance. Otherwise you'll end up all alone.

You'd tried to take their advice, of course. But the relationships that were fathered your parents direction were not loving. There was nothing soft or gentle or warm about them. You'd never felt more unlovable.

So when the incident with the shooter happened and you were lying on the lecture hall floor, blood coloring the carpet deep scarlet, you'd vowed to never let it happen again. That you were going to use your intellect and wit and passion for what you wanted to do- you'd promised yourself that if you survived, you would try to make your life your own, one step at a time.

This, of course, is easier said than done.

It's easy enough to refuse to let yourself get involved with men who are clearly only interested in your for your badge or your body --though the latter happens so rarely you really don't have to worry about it-- because you don't care about them. They're blips on your radar.

But Spencer? Sweet, sweet Spencer who makes you hot-cocoa and binge watches Doctor Who with you, even the later seasons, which you know he doesn't like as much but you love. Spencer who always has a grounding touch to offer, or a quiet command when you need him. Spencer who puts you first.

But there's a limit to these things, right? As far as you've seen, romantic relationship's are transactional, or conditional. Sometimes both. He can't just... keep doing this forever. It's too kind. Too sweet. It'll come to an end soon. Like, like the honeymoon era in early relationships. That's all it is. Plus, he's older than you, and you have no illusions about your unavoidable impulsiveness and naivety.

You've been told that your standards are too high before. "Struck by the hopeless romantic's arrow," your brother had said once, back when you were still in school, crying over a boy who'd told you that he didn't want to date you because you were too smart for a girl.

"That's not being hopeless romantic. There's no such thing as being too smart for a girl."

"There isn't," He'd amended, "But you're not going to have an easy time finding a guy. You of all people can't really afford to be picky."

He'd been right, in the end. So you're just... having a hard time figuring out how genuine Spencer's actions are. Guy's don't really act all romantic in the context of you. You've been told your whole life to be happy with what you get, and what you've had in the past is decidedly not lining up with how Spencer treats you.

It's a nasty little thing in your ear. Is it real? Does it matter as much to him?

When is it all going to end?

--

Rossi make's an offhand comment during a mission that you talk a lot when you're excited about the subject at hand.

JJ agrees. "It's a little unnerving when the subject is the bruising patterns of strangulation."

That little voice comes back.

Too much too much too much too much too much--

"It's useful," You protest, mouth dry.

JJ snorts, "I'm not sure about that. We need to know that the victim was strangled, not what happens to the body during blunt-force asphyxiation."

You'd grown quiet then, let the chatter and musings of the rest of the team wash over you.

Is that something Spencer finds annoying? You have always found things other's view morbid and disturbing fascinating. But JJ is right. No one wants to hear about that.

You brush the comment off, square your shoulders, get back on with the case.

Be better. Try harder.

You don't seen the furrow of Spencer's brows from where he's been watching you, or the quick look he shares with Hotch.

--

You'd never really thought about how clingy you can be before Emily makes an offhand comment about it while the two of you wait in line at a coffee shop. There's a couple in front of you, the girl all over her partner, kissing and giggling and hugging them close.

"Ugh," Emily groans once the two get their coffee and move on. "I could never understand the appeal of all that. I mean doesn't it feel stifling?"

A little stab of ice in your stomach.

"I don't know. I think it's nice."

"No, thank you. If I were her partner, I'd feel smothered."

You think about that conversation every time you take Spencer's hand or lean into his simple touches. They're invasive little things, the thoughts. It's not hard to pull back on all the touching. You never really ask for them in the first place- always too nervous to come off clingy. But you suppose just taking, taking, taking is just the same.

A quick shake of your head, not leaning in, a quiet "I'm fine." and that little nagging fear of smothering begins to quiet. It doesn't leave, but it does get quieter. For a little while, at least.

--

The hard part is trying to be less without noticeably being less. Spencer's smart- and he's a profiler. If you pull back too much too quickly, he'll notice, and you don't want to talk about this yet. You just need to make sure he'll stay. That things won't—

That you won't find out too late that you don't mean as much to him as he does to you.

That's the kind of thing that can't happen again. But ascertaining his true feelings and desires is difficult, because this is all kind's of new territory for you. You want to believe it's real. You really, really want to believe it's real.

But it's never been real before, so why would it be real now?

--

You've asked around (subtly and carefully, of course) about the type of girl Spencer's dated or drifted towards in the past. You know he said he wanted something soft and sweet, but you can't help but think that you're not really either, nor are you in line with his type. All things considered, you're a mess. Something tired-eyed and hollow is how you feel most days. Some sort of creature perhaps? You're honestly not sure what you are. You've spent your entire life being singled out or otherwise othered- always too smart or too different or too weird or too much or too loud or too quiet or too shy or too, too, too. Always too something. You have never been called soft or sweet. In a demeaning way, sure, but never with the quiet reverence that Spencer said it with that night.

It feels like a balancing act, a bit. Holding all those too much parts so close to your chest with one hand and shoving the ones you think Spencer wants with the other hand.

You could probably drop the one hand. The one holding the bad parts. But you're just not convinced he'll stay. You're not sure that he won't look at them with some form of disgust or pity or something else terrible.

You know the balancing act isn't sustainable— you'll fall eventually, and everything will come crashing down, but until then, you just keep trying. Trying to see if he'll stay, trying to see what to do if he won't. How to ensure he will, if that's something that's possible.

--

The act does not hold up for as long as you hoped it would. It comes crashing down with a glass. Literally.

You and Spencer are in the kitchen on a rare weekend off, cooking and drinking wine and swaying to some little old love song.

It should be perfect, except you're worrying that you look ugly while you're dancing, and you're probably singing off-key, and he maybe wants you to shut up so he can hear the song or dance in peace.

He reaches towards you and you just— your brain shrieks for a moment, all senses going into overdrive and you jerk backward, and your elbow knocks into your wine glass, and it falls, shattering behind you with a deafening crash.

Your entire body tenses, waiting for yelling or sighing or something, because you broke the glass, there's crystalline shards everywhere, the wine red and it looks like blood, maybe it is, maybe you're bleeding because the glass was really close to your foot when it fell but you're not sure because you can't really feel your feet or your fingers or—

"Don't move," Spencer says, voice serious, and tears well in your eyes, because this is when it all ends isn't it? "I don't want you to— honey?"

"Yes?" You croak.

His eyes are swimming with concern as he takes in your hunched shoulders, shallow breaths, and scared expression.

Understanding flickers in his features, and you resist the urge to hold your breath.

"Nothing is going to happen to you because of the glass, okay? Everything is fine. We're fine. I'm not mad. See? I'm not mad. I just don't want you to cut your feet on the glass. I'm going to clean this up and get your slippers, okay?"

"Okay." You breathe, voice hoarse. You wring your hands nervously as he leaves to retrieve the necessary supplies to clean the mess, heart beating so fast and so hard you're shocked you can't see it through your shirt.

He's not mad. He's not mad. You're not in trouble. Your parents aren't here. You're not grounded. You're not in trouble. He's not mad.

You're silent while he cleans, focused on getting your breathing under control while he babbles quietly about the history of glass making and the significance of types of wine glasses. The facts and history wash over you in steady waves, easing the tension in your shoulders bit by bit.

"I didn't think you were going to hit me, Spencer."

He continues cleaning. "It's okay if you did. I would never blame you for that."

"But I don't," You say, suddenly desperate, "I know you wouldn't, I've never been hit, not like that."

He's quiet for a few minutes. "Does this have something to do with how you've been acting recently?"

You freeze. "What do you mean?"

He looks up, leaning back on his knees. Making himself smaller, you realize. He's trying not to scare you again.

"You're dating a profiler. Also, I speak fluent you, and you've been chewing all your hangnails again. You only do that when you're stressed and pretending like you're not."

Your finger's twitch at your sides.

His hands come up slowly, and he rubs the length of your waist and hips. "We don't have to talk about it right now, but I think we should soon. I don't want you hurting all by yourself. You've had enough of that. That's what I'm here for."

He finishes cleaning up the glass, and finishes cooking dinner- he'd assured you he'd turned off all burners when the glass hit the floor, so nothing's burnt.

Once you've both eaten, he steers you towards the couch and wordlessly puts on Doctor Who.

The Pandorica is just about to open when you finally decide that if you don't start talking, you never will.

"My parents think you're going to leave me."

Spencer makes a wounded noise in his throat. "Why do they think that?"

"Because it's happened before. I'm, um. I'm not very good at getting into relationships. Or keeping them."

"But that's not your fault."

You sniff hard, rubbing your face with your sleeve. "It is though, isn't it? At least a little. I know I can be a lot. I know I'm not easy to—"

You cut yourself off, but the words hang in the air anyway; unsaid.

I'm not easy to love.

"Anyway," You say, pushing through the lump in your throat. "I just thought. I don't know. I was worried that you'd get fed up with me."

"No," He whispers, voice raw and full of something a lot heavier than fond. "No, no baby. I like that you're clingy and you ramble when you get excited, because it means that we get to talk about something together."

He shifts on the couch, sitting criss-crossed, ducking his head down to catch your gaze. "You know what else I like?"

You scoot over, mirroring his position. "What?"

"I like that you always know when I need you. Even when I don't think I do, you're there. Because I do need you. This isn't a one-way street."

His words hit you straight in your chest. "Oh."

He smiles, brows a little scrunched, brown eyes a deep pool of fondness and a splash of concern. "Yeah. And I'm thinking you need me a little more than you want to let on."

The seam of your pajama pants suddenly becomes the most interesting thing in the world. Amazing, the wonders of a sewing machine.

"Maybe."

"Mmm," He hums, "So if I need you, don't you think that you're allowed to need me?"

Your fingers pick and twirl a loose thread around. "...Yes?"

A large, firm hand covers your thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. "Yes. Not only are you allowed to need me, I want you to need me. Cause you know how you're always worried about being the best girlfriend? Well, I'm always worried about being the best boyfriend."

That makes you look up. "Really?"

He chuckles again, a little puff of air fanning your face. "Yes, really. I assure you, contrary to your past experiences, this is one of those bare minimum things in a relationship."

"That does not," He continues, immediately catching the brief flicker of doubt and shame on your face, "Mean that it is your fault at all for how you were treated in the past. You wouldn't expect me to suddenly become an expert in veterinary medicine just because I've been to the vet's office a few times, right?"

"When did you go to the vet's—"

"Shh, I'm being a good boyfriend," He holds up a hand, lips quirking up when you can't suppress a tiny giggle, "But seriously. You had no frame of reference, right? And you were being told it was your fault. But it wasn't. You didn't deserve that."

He lets his words hang in the air for a little while and allows you time to process this new information.

"What do I do now?"

"Well," He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, curls tickling your forehead, "You've got a pretty sweet deal here. Just three things. You have to keep letting me need you, let yourself need me, and one last little thing."

"What?"

You're so close your breaths are mingling.

"Let me show you what this is supposed to look like. How a man is supposed to treat a pretty girl. His pretty girl."

"Oh, well," Heat rushes to your cheeks, your stomach doing flip-flops, "That sounds pretty hard. I don't know how I'll hold up."

His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, his thumb sweeping strokes under your eye.

"You say that now, but I know what happens to you when I get romantic. You swoon."

You laugh. "I do not swoon."

"You will."

He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It isn't a kiss-kiss. He's kissing you just to kiss you; just to let you know that he's here, that you have him.

It's sweet and perfect and exactly what you need.

--

Letting yourself need Spencer is marginally easier now that you know he needs you. Now that you know you're not going all in for someone who isn't.

He also starts needing you a bit... louder.

It's late evening, and most people have gone home except you and a couple other members of the team, all still working on paperwork.

Except Spencer, who's decided to drape himself over your shoulders like a cat, his chin resting on your head.

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Either finished it or it can be done later."

You shift your shoulders, smiling at how his grumbles vibrate against your back.

He moves his head, pressing his cheek to your head instead of his chin, heaving a deep sigh.

"Your hair smells good."

"Like what?"

"You're shampoo. Yours always smell better than mine."

You continue to work through your paperwork, Spencer a continuous and solid weight against your back.

"Is this even comfortable for your back at all?"

"Doesn't matter. Need girlfriend time."

He can't see it, but you're sure he knows how hard you blush.

--

Spencer's cooking the two of you a late breakfast in the kitchen of his apartment, hair still all mussed from sleep. He's quite the sight. You can't stop staring.

You're sitting on the counter, still dressed in your pajamas, legs swinging.

"You wanna know something cool?"

"You know it,"

"Butterflies and moths can drink blood and tears. There's nutrients in them. Purple Emperor butterflies are especially known for this. It's called mud-puddling."

"So you're telling me I should make sure I bandage any open wounds before I go to a butterfly house?"

"I guess. I can't imagine they'd be able to drink enough blood to actually cause any damage."

"Maybe we'll have to go to a butterfly house. For research."

"Should we get dinner afterwards?"

"We'll deserve it, you know, for all the hard research we'll have done."

"Hmm. Yes, I suppose so."

--

Spencer's bed is infinitely more comfortable than your bed. You're pretty sure it's a combination of the fact that it's the only thing in the entire world that smells so much like him and the fact that he spent part of his large FBI paycheck on a fancy mattress. Back support is very important to him.

You're doing a little reading before bed, shamelessly sprawled all over him while he does his own reading. You've got a leg hooked over his hips, the other tangled with his legs, and your arms and head pillowed on his chest. You move a little every time he takes a breath, and more than once you've paused in your reading, mesmerized by the feeling.

He shifts under you, setting his book down on his night stand and making himself more comfortable.

"Should I move?"

"No," he says, voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to him, face pressed to the crook of your neck. He breathes deep, scruffy stubble scratching against your skin. "Like you close. Good for sleep."

Even with the lamp on, and your book in your hand, you fall asleep soon after him.

--

It's an ordinary evening for the two of you. Discarded dishes sit on the coffee table in front of the t.v, neither of you paying them any attention, wrapped up in each other and eyes glued to the screen.

You look up at Spencer who's watching Doctor Who with the focus of a man who's never seen it, even though you know for a fact he's seen it before, several times in fact.

"I want to know the things you like," He'd said simply, the one time you'd asked why he takes your nightly Doctor Who watching so seriously.

And tonight's no different. Tonight, he looks... well, he looks like Spencer. His face illuminated by the TV screen, his hair all mussed from you running your hands through it earlier.

And it just kind of all hits you at once. You know.

"I love you."

He looks down at you, his expression soft and surprised. When your words register, his expression is so sickeningly fond and happy you can't help but lean in, burying your face in his chest. He rubs your back consolingly, then presses a little kiss to the crown of your head.

"I love you too."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

taglist: @topsecret101 @slowdownpal @leeknowpegger @sunbl3achedfly @hiireadstuff @paige0103 @private190104 @beautyb1ade @coraline-jones353 @pleasenter-sandman @sttvrdustt @gluchie @thomasintheshadows @dessamira1001 @bbleeeeh @hufflely-puffly @bippityboppityboob1tch @buggys-space @redxfangirl @liauchiha147 @dreaming-potato @meandyoulollz @jobrosimp

[thesweetestofdreams]

Homesick

poly!marauders roommate au! kinda shy reader and very caring boys

I said I would post and I did! what an absolutely crazy feat.

Your roommates were, well, interesting. They were nice, that you were sure of. They were nothing but helpful when you moved in, but there were just a few things you couldn't quite figure out. The biggest of them being where you fit in.

Sirius, Remus, and James seemed to be waiting for your next move. Would your routine match theirs? Would you keep your shoes by the front door? What day did you do laundry? They never got any clues to answer this question because frankly you were trying to make yourself as scarce as possible.

It felt like trying to wedge another book in a too full shelf. This was not for lack of trying on their end. They threw you a welcome party which consisted of James and Sirius getting a bit too tipsy while you sipped a drink in the corner of the couch. Their friends were nice too, of course they were. It was all just so, new and new often felt just like scary.

So now, as laughter drifted from the living room, it sharpened the solemn silence of your own room. Before you could second guess yourself you threw on your shoes and creaked the door open slowly.

"Sirius you can't do that, it's cheating," you heard Remus yell down the hall. The sound stood out in your right ear poking through the door. You'd never heard Remus yell before. Did he do that?

"What now?" James said with a shake of his head, he was walking down the hall past your room, that is he was walking until he saw you. "Hi," he said, smile wide, a warm invite already shining through his features. "Were we being too loud?" he asked brows quickly drawn together.

You felt frozen like a kid caught sneaking out past bedtime, which was an annoying feeling. "I was just heading out," you said, brave enough to open the door fully, joining him in the hall.

"Oh, well you're welcome to join if you'd like," James said, making his way towards the boisterous living room. You were slow to follow but upon seeing the full room a pit fell in your stomach.

It was an odd feeling to be a block of ice in a room with such warmth, an underlying buzz of happiness. You'd never felt so lonely surrounded by friends that were just out of arms reach. The odd one out, the grape that fell from the vine.

Before you could drown in your feelings the snap of a beer can brought you back. Sirius snapping his fingers in a matching sound urging James to share. That was another thing, your roommates didn't feel like any friends you'd had before. They were closer, more comfortable, sharing soft words in the kitchen and slow nights piling into the same room.

The red haired girl, Lily, if you remembered right, was the first to notice you. "Hi," she said face cracking into a smile with sharp corners and soft eyes.

Remus who was still arguing with Sirius quickly fizzled out and turned to you. "Was I being too loud?" he said with a slightly pained face. Why were they so worried about that. This was their home often times you felt like a mouse that hid in the walls only venturing out when it was quiet.

"No, just heading out." You shoved your hands in your pockets.

"You'll want a coat." Remus said looking out the window.

"Oh," you said, the sound hanging in the air. A coat. Had you unpacked that yet? Did you still have one?

"Borrow mine," James said pointing at the overflowing coat rack.

"Are you- you're sure?"

James was busy downing his drink. "He's sure," Sirius said for him. "If you must leave doll, I'd recommend now because I," he threw small colored bills onto the table, "am buying Park Place."

At this, Remus erupted again. "What? Alright, who said he could be banker because you are clearly cheating!"

Despite yourself, you laughed as you left the apartment. You were outside when it hit you that you had no reason to actually be out. You absolutely did not want your roommates to know you had no friends in the city, or that their ad online while it saved you financially left you stranded on a deserted island of your own making. It just always seemed easier that way to never really settle in.

To know people they had to know you back. That meant leaving pieces of yourself like glass in the ocean you never knew where it would end up, when it would come back to cut you.

You walked until James' coat felt made of mesh, until your hands were numb and your feet hurt. You weren't sure quite how long it had been but upon your return the apartment was much quieter, even the lights softer.

"There you are," Sirius said arms wide almost like a bow a garbage bag in one hand.

"Is she back?" you heard Remus call from one of the bedrooms.

"Yeah," Sirius called back.

"Did you have a nice time?" James said head peaking out from the kitchen. "Did you eat?" You noticed now he was wearing a kitchen apron.

"You all didn't have to stay up for me," you said rather confused. Were roommates supposed to be like this?

"We were cleaning," Sirius said emphasis on cleaning. He gave Remus a sharp eyed look as he came into the living room.

"We just wanted to make sure you got home safe," Remus said a hand on Sirius's shoulder soft and sliding down his arm. Sirius stuck his tongue out.

You got stuck on that word, home, it felt sticky in your mouth, somewhere between iimaginary and tangible.

"Did you eat?" James asked again. The three of them looked at you expectantly. It felt like you were see through, like they would see the lie floating up to your mouth, and for some inexplicable reason it wasn't the worst feeling.

"No," you confessed, met by a tsking sound from Sirius.

"What are you waiting for then?" James asked sounding ever like a mother.

As you hung up his coat you had the sneaking feeling that try as you might to be scarce, to not settle, the closeness the boys had, the comfortable taken care of feeling was inevitable in its spread. It seeped into your cold hands replacing them with a nice warmth that filled your chest and left you feeling more whole than you had in a long time.

[yup-no-way]

Astro Observations pt. 2

Well hello there! I was not rlly active ever since my last post given I am now being absolutely obliterated by uni assignments and projects(save me).But, I’m back now and I am striving for a more consistent schedule with my posts. I hope everyone is doing well and taking care of themselves(kiss xoxo). I was kind of hoping to start doing some tarot here as well, I’ll see how that works out. I am leaning towards pick a pile general readings, or smth like that, just to practice my tarot skills. I am also thinking of doing a master-list once I have more content so people can navigate it easier.

Now let’s get into the blog!

These observations are based on my personal experiences so don’t take it as full facts. These placements can also be influenced by other things in someone’s chart like degrees, houses and aspects. Also if u have any suggestions for what content you’d like to see feel free to let me know. English is not my first language lads so don’t drag me for grammatical errors. xoxo

Leo sun/Sun 1h: genuinely determined people. It’s like these people knew from a very young age what exactly they wanted. They really move through life with a purpose and that shows through their work or personal relationships. Also depending on what other placements they have, they tend to be quite assertive when they genuinely know what they want. Also noticed that it’s important for them to have partners that push them to become better or overall partners that are determined. They can’t stand lack of purpose or laziness in people.

Taurus placements: so this applies mostly to Taurus stellium, Taurus in big 6, MC or NN Taurus. While it’s true that these placements strive for comfort, a lot of people dim down this to just money or assets. For every Taurus placement(mostly depending on the remaining of the chart or even the environment the grew around), the definition of comfort will be different. For some it’s as simple as a comfortable house but to others it can be a stable relationships that bring comfort. It’s not all about money and assets but you have to admit these people are also heavily motivated by money most of the time because it can bring a sense of stability in their lives. But again, for a lot of these people their idea of comfort is subjective and it’s not all ab food, clothes or money.

Virgo sun: so this placement is fairly disliked (at least that’s what I saw online), but I don’t think all the hate is deserved. I just think Virgo placements are just like an onion(stay with me now), the more you get to know them, the more you discover(good or bad). Very interesting people overall, just not all people have the patience to deal with them. One thing that I noticed is that this placement is not the biggest people person; like they will interact with you and all but it’s out of pure necessity. They are fine by themselves and don’t feel the need to always chat with people. Buuuut once they find someone they care about, it is very hard for them to let them go. They will be very protective of the ones they care about and depending on other placements(like maybe they have some water placements), they will even tend to be very receptive to people’s emotions. For example, if their partner is sad, they’ll feel it straight away. You feel a bit off, they’ll know and they’ll ask you ab it for sure. Overall, they r hard to get to know but they aren’t hard to understand(in the sense that they r clear with their communication). If they think you are worth their time, they wont hesitate to “invest” in you.

Mars/Venus in 2h: Now remember when I said that Taurus placements aren’t all about money. Well 2h placements are. These people love money and one of their biggest motivation is life is money. They will 100% be more inclined to date someone from a well off family just for the stability it has to offer. They are also kind of blessed in life in this context. Money does seem to gravitate towards them(but be aware Mars 2h cause u can obtain money fast but spend it just as fast, just mind your spendings or you won’t really be able to keep anything you earn). If you have any of these placements and you are into astrocartography, I would highly suggest u move to one of these lines(mind your aspects tho, make sure there is an easy flow of energy in your chart in that area). Love this placement overall, but be mindful of your relationship with money since I noticed for some people, they tend to let themselves be consumed by the greed for more and they end up with an unhealthy mindset where they could potentially sabotage their life for the sake of more abundance. But if you keep that in mind you should be grand.

Big 6 different elements: If you have multiple elements in your big 6, then I would genuinely say you’re blessed. It’s honestly quite refreshing to have all elements or more than 2 elements in your big 6 since it can really diversify your personality. It also makes you quite an adaptive person. Most people that I’ve met with these placements are good in multiple areas and seem to be overall really balanced people. But one thing I have to say, they at least once have gone through a moment in their life where they didn’t know who they were. And I’m not talking about what everyone goes through, like your average identity crises when you’re young and you want to discover yourself. I mean a full blown out identity issue, where they never feel like they quite fit anywhere and no one fully understands them. It’s hard sometimes cause having so many different elements they feel like they can get along with anyone really, but they don’t feel like others will ever truly understand them. These people also are good as mediators or they tend to be quite open minded. If un evolved can get two faced, if evolved, honestly one of the best people you’ll know. Lots of love to yous and I hope you guys figure out your stuff!

Ok so this was it for today! I hope you guys enjoyed this post! I tried something new with the layout and I think it looks quite cute. I’m going to experiment a lot with how I display my content but I hope you like this one so far! I am also thinking of doing an intro blog just to get to know me a little. But for now just refer to me as A.Please stay safe and take care of yourself! xoxo

[natewriteslol]

Delicious In Dungeon Having a Crush on You HC's!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:

Summary: Just like the title says, how they would act if they had a crush on you including how you find out!

Pt.2 w Kabru, Shuro and Falin!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ ☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*°☆.。.:*

Senshi:

-I'm not going to lie it is going to take a fat minute for him to fess up his feelings for you let alone for people to notice because it is the little things that stand out.

-Senshi is really good at keeping secrets and is a really private person and fights for his peace

-So what if he may slip a little bit more food onto your plate, make your favorite dishes only for you if the ingredients for it just so happens to be in his bag, is always the first person to get you out of a dangerous situation? It's all out of convenience and being kind

-But his lack of casualty is also really telling like when giving out compliments he sometimes has a tinge of shyness to his voice, "You look...very nice y-yes"

-The way you find out he has a crush on you is because he eventually comes to a realization that he cannot keep running away from his problems because that has never ended in anything good and confesses his feelings for you

-It happened whilst everyone was asleep and it was just you two alone by the fire, the embers were crackling and you always enjoyed watching it ablaze while talking with Senshi. Eventually he piped up after staying silent for so long and having you take the lead in talking,

"I don't mean to corner you, nor do I expect you to feel the same but...I have feelings for you, genuinely Y/N. And, meeting you in this party means the world to me, as you all are unique treasures but you. I couldn't imagine just walking away without letting you know how much you mean to me."

-Honestly, Senshi is one of the least in denial about this predicament with his feelings and will come to you sooner

Marcille:

-A person who completely avoids her feelings for you like the plague and will deny like her life depends on it

-She swears to others that it's just because you're an amazing friend!

-She brings you your favorite sweet treats, offers to cast magic for your slightest inconveniences, she just so happens to bring books that are about the things you mentioned one off or are a specific interest you love

-The contrast of how she treats others vs. You is so jarring and it's really obvious that she has a crush on you. She is really protective and a bit possessive (not in a weird way) over you and she does not really care about the other people in her party like that

-Anytime she's afraid of something, she holds onto you, Marcille is VERY touchy with her crush

-The blonde blushes pretty consistently and is really shy when it comes to you and tries to appear nonchalant but fails miserably

-It's honestly so bad that even Laios caught on after Senshi threw him a clue and one time when it was just him asked her, which resulted in her coming clean and being VERY distressed as if she committed a crime

-The way you find out she has a crush on you is when you're on a mission in a dungeon. She was near a weeping willow exerting mana, rumored to grant wishes to anyone who asks.

-She held a piece of paper and was on her knees, looking up at the grand tree on the soft blades of grass. She began speaking to the tree once you silently walked in through the cave hole to check on her and the half-elf was completely unknowing of your intrusion,

-"Please they're the love of my life, and I'm not asking to force them but maybe...show me a sign if they like me back. They make me feel like no other and I am just so confused and I need guidance, Ancient Willow."

Chilchuck:

-Deny. Deny. Deny. Deny.

-Oh, and did I say deny

-He absolutely hates being the person caught with egg on his face and being in the wrong, so the fact that he himself Mr. 'No Party Romances' violated his own rules?

-He wants to fall into a hole right on the spot

-While he is a grown ass man and doesn't want to be a coward, Chilchuck doesn't want to face this problem head on surprisingly (sarcasm)

-He shows his love for you by trying to keep you the safe the most out of everyone in the party, scolds you HEAVILY when you mess up that could've cost you your life

-Some may say that it's just Chilchuck's explosive nature, Senshi was actually the first to see through it and grow suspicion over his behavior but honestly didn't have enough evidence for his theory and was shot down by Laios and Marcille

-It's not extremely obvious his slight shift in treatment until you had been kidnapped by the Chain Devil to protect Chilchuck from it's clutches

-And multiple times have members of the party have been kidnapped and although shaken he was able to keep his cool...but this time it was heavily different

-He let out a horrified scream that they had never heard from the Half-Foot before. He scrambled to his feet after watching you getting pulled into the darkness, his eyes were glassy and full of panic as he asked the rest on what they should do

-When they get you back, you were too tired to really stand so you laid in the sleeping bag as everyone else slept as well, but the brown haired man never left your side and watched as you slept

-...or so he thought

-You find out about his true feelings as you laid in your sleeping bag. As you were drifting in and out consciousness but felt light weight on the side of your body and Chilchuck began to talk to you, asking if you were awake

-"Good, you're fast asleep...I hope you know that I'm not hard on you because I don't like you that's...not even close to the truth.

I love you, so much and...I get so damn scared for you."

Laios:

-Constant. Monster. Facts.

-One of the things that makes Laios so attracted to you is that you listen and like when he nerds out so please be prepared. You're a safe space to spew out knowledge and it means the world to him

-Consistently gives you small little gifts, but then sometimes gifts to the others so it doesn't look suspicious. Maybe it was something with the light but, the look in his eye as he gave you the bracelet and put it on you was so different.

-Usually doesn't care about other people being in a towels or shirtless, but when it's you he feels like a victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time. When he sees your collar bones and he tries to keep it very lokwey, but is highkey blushing

-Gives you some sketches of your favorite creatures, always "accidentally" makes your favorite dish for dinner nights, pouts a little when you need to be gone without him for a little

-If you're ever feeling insecure he might open his gob a little too much, "I get maybe why you'd feel that way but, if you ask me I think it's pretty hot" he says with a blank, enthusiastic smile on his face not at all understanding how that could come off

-You find out that the knight has a crush on you the first time he gets absolutely hammered with Senshi, Chilchuck as he was convinced by the two to get drunk

-The bar was packed in one of the "safe spaces" in town and you and Marcille were kinda the designated sober people within your party, and whilst the half elf was in the bathroom you decided to get some fresh air and got up from the stool seat

-"Whatcha' doing party is jus' getting started?" Laios asks

-You shot him a look over the shoulder and responded softly, "I need some fresh air hun, I'll be right back."

-And there went his inner dialogue. Out his mouth.

-"Woah, how sexy. Being in love really sucks sometimes since I'd really do tricks like a dog to be with them good god."

-The look you gave dobered him almost completely, and if that wasn't enough Marcille was right behind him and heard every word

-Love is cringe but he is free I guess.

Part Two:Kabru, Shuro and Falin!

[n0tamused]

hello, can I get prompt action no. 14 Fem reader x Anaxa, phainon and sunday (separate)

˖ ࣪⊹First kiss

Prompt: 14. First kiss

Words: 404 (Anaxa), 486(Phainon), 560(Sunday)

Ko-Fi |  1.5K followers event

˖ ࣪⊹Anaxa

The tender caresses of his hand brushing back the stray hairs that covered your face, silently asking you to look at him, something so genuine held in his gaze made words stop in your throat. Conversation had been going well by that point, consisting of more mundane things in life, until Anaxa thought it a good time to compare you to the blooming gardens beyond the window you were both staring out of. It was sudden, yet not unwelcome. 

“You sure do know how to surprise a person” Your comment was met with a small roll of his eye and a slack shrug of his shoulders. “Surel you do not take it as an offense? The other day you did say how you misliked my lack of..direct displays of affection” he rebutted as he took his hand slowly away, making you wish he had lingered instead.

“Offense? No. Not at all, in fact you should do it more often - as I also said the other day” you smiled at him, a cheeky smile as you felt your cheeks glow with warmth. His gaze went from the gardens and back to you, watching how the sun bathed you in a warm glow of a kiss. 

The wind sighed and stirred your hair again, and instinctively he was already reaching out to brush the stubborn hair aside, and he would have done so if you had not caught his wrist and tugged him closer. Surprised, his hand flexed in your hold, but feeling your warmth right there.. it soothed him and cast his gaze to other parts of your face. Your lips were a breath way from his, and your lashes fluttered as your eyes looked suddenly unsure of your own actions, looking at him for some sign of approval or denial. 

Suddenly he let out a huff of a chuckle. “You should work a bit more on your element of surprise” he said before capturing your lips with his own. Your breath lodged itself in your throat and suddenly the thought of the sun and the gardens was so far away. His hand slipped your grasp and cupped your cheek. The pull apart was inevitable, but no less unwanted. Anaxa’s eye held the same sentiment, the want - but before he could lean in for more or before the moment got lost you chimed in: “Should I take notes from you?”

Anaxa scoffed. 

˖ ࣪⊹Phainon

Okhema was seldom cold, Kephale’s love for their creations had made it so that winters were scarcely a thing anyone knew, even the night was a stranger. All of that made the sudden chill on the breeze a thing to  flee inside from, and you so expertly sought out the warm, walking heater of your lover - Phainon.

You had found him seated on the edge of the bed, busying himself with a needle and thread as another tear just ‘appeared’ in his white coat. Seeing you coming towards him, he was quick to discord the needlework and open his arms to you, chuckling as you all but launched yourself into his lap. Needle and thread still remained as something he did not relish in partaking, swiftly forgetting about it. 

“Have you finally decided to show me some affection or has the cold wind chased you back to me?” he chuckled, his arms wrapping around you in a secure embrace as you settled down.

You sigh dramatically, your body going slack for him to hold and keep upright in his lap. “I am only here to steal your warmth, I hate these cold days. Okhema is not a place where winter should be known”. Phainon shook his head as he cupped the back of your head and brought your face down so he could look at you.

“Your honesty has bought you favour. I wouldn’t otherwise be willing to share my precious warmth so easily” Although he attempted to look serious, he failed in the face of your smug look. Who is he kidding - if you hadn’t come to him yourself, he would have sought you out in worry sooner or later. 

But his feelings felt ignited like a flame in that moment, even more so as you cuddled up to him. And not even half an hour later he found himself back on the bed, lying intertwined with you. You were dozing in and out, too warm to give a single care for the troubles of the world. His warm palm rested on your cheek, his thumb rubbing small circles while he simply lay there - admiring you. 

Your eyes opened slowly to look at him, finding him in such a deep state of admiration that it immediately sent butterflies to your belly. “Take a picture.. it will last longer…” you managed to whisper through the thick veil of sleep that made your eyelids heavy. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, giving him a comforting rub every now and then.

His breath suddenly seemed to close, and his lips found your nose and then your cheek. And when he drew closer to your lips all you had to do was to tilt your head upward for him to press a kiss there, this one lingering. Your heart fluttered, but comfort surged through you, and after he pulled apart you found yourself thinking - the room was too hot. 

˖ ࣪⊹Sunday

Sunday has always been gentle and careful with you, as if you were porcelain and he the threatening hammer. Soft spoken and kind, that’s how you came to know him. Not as the person he was. He closed that chapter a long time ago. 

How you found yourself in your current predicament remained a meaningless mystery, seated so close to him and helping him preen his feathers. Loose feathers and stubborn ones took time to find, and care to pluck. Even he, who has done it a dozen times over, was finding it tiresome and time-consuming. He appreciated your help all the more for it.

“Here..” he said as he handed you a feather. Upon your request, he agreed to hand you all the feathers he had no use of. It was the biggest sign of his love as well - to give you a part of him. And you planned to use those feathers, for crafts or memory, he did not care for what, but he did care for the fact they were useful to you. 

“Thank you” you muttered as you plucked the feather from between his fingers and set it inside a box. You were now working on the left wing on his head, ones he found even more troublesome to tend to as even a mirror made it hard to finish the task. He was not idly sitting there, answering whatever question you had.

“Ah-!” Sunday winced as you accidentally pulled on the wrong feather, sending a jolt of pain right through him. 

“Oh- I’m so sorry, sorry, sorry!” you rushed to rub the spot where the feather held its root, hoping to soothe the ache the yank undoubtedly left behind. “I grabbed the wrong one..” you laughed nervously, going pale with horror that you caused him pain.  Sunday was more collected, although his face was still slightly twisted. He held no ire or displeasure with you for doing so. 

“It is alright. Such mistakes happen even to me, do not worry” he told you in hopes to ease your evident worry. He was rather surprised when you decided to plant a kiss to his wing, further testament of your regret.

“It won’t happen again.. I’m really sorry. These feathers here are so fine and so many” you told him with a sigh. But once more Sunday shook his head. This time he chuckled too with how you fretted over him. 

“It is quite alright. You don’t believe the pain will kill me, do you? You can continue if there are any more loose feather around” 

You returned to his wings after a moment of consideration, his smile giving you some more wind to your sails. You plucked the last feather and put it away in the box before turning to him. Your hand cupped his cheek and you brought him closer, bringing on shock to his features as you kissed his cheek 

Truth be told, he had expected another form of a kiss, but he uttered no word of complaint. His cheeks dusted with the faintest form of blush. As you pulled back slightly, he covered his mouth with his hand and cleared his throat, but as he looked at you he got lost for words again, seeing the emotion held within your gaze. His hand fell from his mouth, and your lips fell upon his. 

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[livingund3ad]

[for the last time || в последний раз]

chapter warnings: suspicions of a missing person

01. | 02. | 03. | » you are here | 05. | ... |

————

From the eyes of [ Red Robin ]

Roughly 20 hours before the events of 01.

Tim’s body ached with exhaustion as he descended the staircase, his steps dragging slightly against polished wood. Last night’s patrol had been relentless, the city’s usual madness amplified by whatever criminal conspiracy happened to be brewing. Not to mention the hours-long Monopoly game Dick had insisted on dragging him into post-patrol.   

Tim rubbed his eyes, still sore from staring at computer screens and Gotham’s unforgiving nightlife. A sugary cold drink was the first item on his agenda. Food, a power nap in his room, and then back to work. That was the plan.   

But as he rounded the corner to the dining room, he nearly collided with Alfred about to make his way up the stairs, a silver tray balanced perfectly in the butler’s steady hands. The tray was laden with breakfast—toast, tea, scrambled eggs, and sliced fruit arranged with Alfred’s meticulous precision.   

“Morning, Alfred,” Tim greeted, his voice rough from lack of sleep. “Delivering breakfast in bed to the princess of the manor?”  

“Good morning, Master Timothy,” Alfred replied with his usual calm warmth. “Indeed. It appears Miss **** has elected to sleep in this morning.” 

That was weird. She doesn't oversleep.

Tim raised an eyebrow at this. “****? Sleeping in?”  

“Quite,” Alfred said, though there was a slight furrow in his brow. “Though I admit, it is rather unlike her.”   

Tim’s fingers tapped against his crossed arms, a familiar beat of unease thrumming through him. **** was consistent, if anything. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d missed breakfast altogether. At least, that’s what Damian often complains about daily—her quote-unquote, insufferable, feeble attempts at connection first thing in the morning.

“Here, let me help you with that.” Tim reached for the tray, noting the extra dishes balanced along the edges. “You’re carrying too much as it is.”   

“I assure you, Master Timothy, I am more than capable—”  

“Seriously, Alfred. Then at least let me knock. You’ve got, like, five different things in your hands,” Tim interrupted, shooting him a tired but earnest grin. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”   

Alfred’s mouth tightened, but he relented with a small nod. “Very well, sir. If you insist.”  

They made their way up the stairs once more, and down the hall toward ****’s room. The door loomed ahead, as unremarkable as ever. But Tim’s mind kept circling back to the fact that ****’s door had been locked the previous night. He remembered Damian’s grumbling and how the kid had looked genuinely irked about it.   

Tim balanced the tray in his hands and knocked lightly on the door. “Hey, ****? Breakfast delivery.”   

No response.   

He knocked again, harder this time. “C’mon, ****. It’s Alfred’s food. You don’t wanna miss out.”   

Silence.   

Alfred shifted beside him, his gaze growing more concerned. Tim tried not to let his own worry show. But a chill crept down his spine, stubborn and cold.  

“She’s probably just passed out,” Tim said, but even he could hear the doubt in his voice. “Still, I should at least check.”  

He crouched down, his fingers brushing against the floor as he pressed his palm to the thin gap beneath the door. The air that seeped through was warm. Way too warm.   

The AC was off. And in the thick of Gotham’s humid summer, that could only mean the room was stuffy and unbearable. Which wasn’t like her at all. She didn't like the unbearable heat.  

“Alfred, do you have a key to her room?” Tim asked, his voice lower, more urgent.   

Alfred’s expression turned grave. “Indeed I do, sir. One moment.”   

The butler withdrew a small brass key from his pocket, his fingers steady despite the tension coiling in the air. He handed it to Tim, who wasted no time in unlocking the door.  

“****?” Tim calls out to her before the door swung open with a faint creak, revealing her room. He realized just now that he'd never been inside her room before.  

It was...pristine. Neat, but lived-in. Posters of musicals and theatre adaptations on the walls, a hanging framed photo of her sporting a silver medal wrapped around her neck with Alfred on her side—presumably the aftermath of some swimming competition, books stacked on her nightstand, notebooks and sketch pads scattered across her workdesk, different sizes of canvases with paint leaning against the outmoded walls. Her bed was unmade, sheets tangled in a careless heap, but that wasn’t unusual.  

What was unusual was the utter lack of her presence.  

No sign of ****. No figure with a blob of hair peeking over the top of her desk chair. No groggy complaints about being disturbed.  

Tim’s heart kicked up, his sleep-deprived brain jolting into full alertness.  

“She’s not here,” Tim muttered, stating the obvious. His eyes sweeping the room with the precision of a detective cataloging evidence.   

“So it would seem,” Alfred said, his voice composed but undeniably troubled.   

Tim’s gaze snagged on her laptop, closed but not powered down, the faint glow of sleep mode visible. No phone in sight. He can attempt to track that. He crossed the room and snatched the laptop off the desk. If **** wasn’t here, then he needed to figure out where in the world she’d gone.  

“I’ll check her laptop. See if she left anything behind—texts, messages, anything.” Tim spoke quickly, his mind already racing ahead. “Alfred, can you—”  

“Alert the others?” Alfred finished with a slight nod. “At once, sir.”   

Tim met Alfred’s eyes, something cold and uncomfortable settling in his gut. “And wake up Bruce. Let him know ****’s she—she might be missing.”   

“Yes, Master Timothy.” Alfred’s voice was calm, but his hands trembled just slightly as he took the now-abandoned tray and moved toward the door.  

As Alfred departed, Tim’s fingers clutched the laptop like it was the only thing tethering him to sanity.  

**** could be missing. And if she truly lost contact yesterday afternoon, then she'd been gone for approximately 20 hours.

Something in chest began to twitch and tighten.

Just four hours left before it hits twenty four.

That was alarming. 

Tim should've made an effort to question himself why **** broke her pattern last night. It was way too off for her to do. **** was consistent, too predictable. He knew she liked her routine and didn't just easily break them, no. So why break them now?

His mind screamed five words over and over again.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

He didn't like this at all.

Taglist: @kneelforloki @shycreatorreview @pearlyribbons @homeless-clown @daffy-the-duck @1abi

[quietdeparturesarchive]

LEVEL UP GUIDE PT. 1 - MINDSET

Society is fcked up. Many people around us are caught up in addictions to drugs, alcohol, or the party lifestyle. Others are struggling with deep depression and a lack of motivation and a screen time higher than the hours of sleep they get each night.

Believe me, I know. Staying disciplined has never been more challenging than it is today - especially with all the easy distractions around us every minute.

If you're also stuck and you do wanna break this cycle of yours then you need to start with your mindset! Your mindset is the base for everything! 📁 Practice Gratitude - Spend a few minutes of your day by writing down 3 things you're grateful for - Shift your focus to what you have, not what you lack.

📁 Challenge Negative Thoughts - Replace “I can’t” with “How can I?” - Reframe setbacks as opportunities to learn and grow.

📁 Set Clear Goals - Break your big dreams into smaller, actionable steps. - Focus on progress, not perfection.

📁 Surround Yourself with Positivity - Spend time with people who inspire and uplift you. - Limit exposure to negativity, whether from people or social media.

📁 Embrace Growth - View failures as lessons, not defeats. - Stay curious and open to new experiences.

📁 Develop Daily Affirmations - Use statements like, “I am capable of achieving great things.” - Repeat them daily to reinforce self-belief.

📁 Prioritize Self-Care - Get enough sleep, eat well, and stay active. - A healthy body supports a healthy mind.

📁 Learn to Let Go - Release grudges and resentment—they only weigh you down. - Practice forgiveness for others and yourself.

📁 Focus on Solutions, Not Problems - Train your brain to look for answers instead of dwelling on challenges. - Practice asking, “What can I do about this?”

📁 Stay Consistent - Small, positive actions done daily lead to big changes over time. - Build habits that align with the person you want to become.

xoxo, sally...

pic1 | pic2 | pic3

[vaguely-concerned]

the things it adds to both of the characters involved that lucanis used to have a thing for viago could not have been more tailor made to be for me. literally the ideal thing to come out of this game for me personally and specifically and spiritually. I mean I'm teia x viago trash until the day I die and nothing will ever change this (and with the best will in the world and even the power of lucanis' big beautiful soulful eyes, that would never have worked out even if viago DID somehow understand he was being propositioned. which I'm not convinced he did. the mutual 'so. snakes are pretty cool huh. and. knives. also' awkward energy without someone of teia's charisma and people skills involved to mitigate it... it would have been dire), but on so many levels I find it so incredibly charming for what it says about them both that the (one-sided) attraction was there once.

what's more, it means the man about whom this legendary paragraph was written:

Viago was not a typical Antivan. He liked facts—checklists, numbers, precise measurements. Heart palpitations, clammy hands, tight pants—Viago did not like these things. In fact, he would go so far as to say he hated them. Mild curiosity was his favorite mood.

has got some of the hottest coolest deadliest people in thedas down so catastrophically bad it's got them acting unwise. teia had to wait a UST-drenched decade for him to be ready to take his fucking gloves off for her. and she did!! the tetchiest most neurotic least approachable little vetinari knockoff of a man you ever saw has game for days and days and lives rent free in heads for years. in eight little talons viago consistently feels so inadequate up against dante and it's like. man I'm shaking you by the lapels you have what he'll never have. the ability to bewitch body and soul with your terrible personality and long thin legs. do not waste the gift you've been given go get her she's waiting!!!

(lucanis is really good at reading people, so I wonder if maybe he saw through all of that to some of the steadiness and incredible capacity for warmth and tenderness in specific interpersonal relationships you see viago have with teia when he finally opens up enough, and maybe that was part of it. either way it's so perfect that both he and teia have regarded viago with this affectionate intrigued amusement. lucanis still seems pretty fond of him in a 'viago continues to be exactly himself no matter what else happens or goes wrong. comforting universal constant' sort of way, he brings him up quite a lot in party banter.)

you've seen lucanis' game in this day and age, arguably or at least hopefully older and wiser -- can you imagine how catastrophically bad it must have been back when he presumably handed viago, most paranoid man in thedas all years running, a knife like this expressed everything it needed to. people give him so much shit for the cake moment being his big romantic lock-in, but considering where we started that is GROWTH and I for one am so proud of him fhsdkjaf.

also I wonder at what point vis-a-vis that whole Situation teia and viago met for the first time, leading us to ask... just how much was it a matter of lucanis simply being ignored out of a lack of interest on viago's part (tbf, not entirely unlikely). how much was it lucanis truly not managing to make himself understood. (all but certainly. literally how would one understand that. I think it says some sweet things about rook and lucanis' dynamic that they -- somehow -- DO pick up what he's putting down in a similar scenario presumably b/c they know him pretty well by then haha.) how much was it viago interpreting the romantic move as a death threat from one of the most dangerous people alive and freaking out. (1000% and indubitably.) and how much was it andarateia steal-your-girl cantori turning up and thus setting off whatever spectacular, volatile, awesome-in-the-original-sense chemical reaction between the substances of her and viago's souls that goes on to this day and makes everything else kind of a side note at best. a gentle mix of several of these things, perhaps. ...god I love all these characters so much

[matchatarot]

Did you miss me, Bunny? I felt through this reading that while I’ve been away, you’ve been working on your shadow work and manifestations. You can be proud of yourself! Let’s take a look at the positive things you’re currently manifesting. To pick a pile, don’t overthink it; choose the one that draws you in the most while thinking about the reading’s intent. Only take what resonates!

Love, Matcha ♡

☆ masterlist

1 ₊˚.༄

You might feel the energy shift in your gut, but I doubt you’re seeing the grandiosity of what’s coming next for you in the material world just yet. You began putting the effort into your manifestations a long time ago. It was a mental effort, related to your self-respect and values. You’ve been fiercely true to yourself by protecting what you stand for. You’ve learned to protect yourself from the evil eye, making decisions based on your deepest desires and aspirations. Some people have been trying to dim your light for years! It seems like family members and past friends were jealous of your ambition and tried to make you doubt yourself. You might have had a group of girls (or gossipy guys) that you thought were your best friends, but were talking behind your back about how they don’t believe in you every time you try something new. They simply lacked the mental capacity to visualize their own path to success, so they made you the target of their insecurities. I am so proud of you for continuing to put in the effort, Bunny.

You’re manifesting so much abundance! You’ve laid the perfect foundation for it, and now it’s coming fast. I see that right now you might be standing at a crossroad, a little reluctant to take action because you have no idea what’s next, however, as soon as you take that leap of faith, it’ll all start to come in! You’re manifesting a total restructuring of your life. You’re manifesting a lifestyle based on your desires and values, one where your manifestations will always come easily, a space in which you feel seen and loved. You’re manifesting a divine counterpart! For some people reading, it’s a love interest, for some, it’s a new empowering group of friends, but for most of you, it’s both! Not only are you manifesting the person you’re going to marry, but you’re also manifesting your potential bridesmaids and groomsmen. A soulmate and a soul tribe. They’ve been manifesting you for a long time as well! You’ll recognize them because of how funny and smart they are! They’re interesting to talk to, and they’ll always push you to follow your heart and take action! You’re manifesting new adventures and travel! If you’ve had the funds to book a trip but didn’t because you want to save money, book the ticket. I see this trip unlocking a lot of beautiful new opportunities for you, it’s an action that‘ll attract your spiritual counterparts in your life!

Keep standing firm on your beliefs! Keep indulging in what feels in your heart like your soul’s true purpose. You’re manifesting love and divine union, Bunny.

222, bear, feathers, snow, violin

↳ book a personal reading with me on ko-fi ★

2 ⊹˚˖ ☆

Bunny, I am so proud of you for walking away from what wasn’t aligned with your highest path. You’ve always been an ambitious dreamer; you know you’re destined for a life of abundance. In the past, you’ve put effort into so many projects, most didn’t bear any fruit. You’ve sacrificed your old way of thinking for a new one, this shift is what’s bringing you your manifestations. You’ve entered a totally new era, you’ve looked back at the past and assessed your mistakes. Now, you move differently. You’ve let go. You trust the universe, you’re more flexible with your wishes, the energy flows effortlessly, and you’re more than ever consciously co-creating your future with the universe. You’re consistent and committed to your abundance mindset. Lack mentality was responsible for most of your past failures. You’re now understanding that to walk your highest path, you need to tune yourself to the highest vibration. There’s no space for doubting your potential.

You’re the star, Bunny, and you’re manifesting whatever you want. Honestly, you have a profusion of options. You’re stepping into a powerful frequency that’ll attract all kinds of new opportunities to you. It’s as if wealth, love and new experiences are manifesting you instead of the opposite. If you’ve been using manifestation mantras, they’re working. It’s funny because in the past you’ve been yearning for all these options, but it might feel a bit overwhelming when it comes, to be honest. Tune into your intuition and allow yourself to be more precise with what you want for the future so that decisions will be easier to make.

You’re manifesting a love union, or an highest form of commitment in your relationship, if you feel like you’re already with your soulmate. For the ones that haven’t met this person yet, they’re someone you either dreamed about at night or wished for while looking at the sky, maybe you saw a shooting star or an eclipse and thought of them. They’re searching for you right now, either consciously or subconsciously, either way, life is bringing you two together. If you’re already in a relationship, outside factors that are negatively impacting the dynamic will disappear. For example, if they’re always working on the days you’re off, the schedule will change and allow more time together. Your relationships with people will generally become easier and more balanced. You might lose some friends because there’s this purging of your old life going on right now, but the ones that will remain and the ones that will come in will be as loving to you as you are to them. The relationships you’ll have in the future will be ones where love and effort are reciprocated.

Keep treating yourself as the main character of your life and dreaming big. You’re manifesting so much more than you wished for!

646, 777, four leaf clover, sunflower, swan

↳ book a personal reading with me on ko-fi ★

3 ‧₊˚ ♡

After taking time to connect with your intuition, deepening your spiritual knowledge and studying your passions, you’ve decided that it is time to take the lead in your own life. You’ve always had beautiful intentions and interesting ideas, but now you realize that it’s time for you to connect with your masculine energy and take definitive action towards your goals. You don’t care about ruffling feathers, you’re willing to take the necessary steps for your potential to flourish. You’ve been underestimated in the past, the ones that have doubted you are in for a show, Bunny.

Wealth and fame are rushing towards you! You’ll bask in glory! You’ve made the perfect moves. Your mind is so mysterious, you’re such a spiritual being. You’ll manifest this abundance in a very peculiar and different way. Technology or social media will take an important role in your ascension. You might work in digital marketing, or you’ll become an influencer, something in that vein. You’ll become successful suddenly, and your life will shift to something you’ve only seen in your fantasies. Sometimes, it’ll even feel like a dream. It’ll feel like you’re in another dimension, negative memories of your past will fade, and you’ll soon be living a totally new reality. You’ll finally feel whole. Your success will come from something that now seems insignificant, but your vision will define its success.

In the past, you’ve been treated horribly by people pretending to be your friends or even members of your family. They’ve made fun of you for being different, lacking in areas they glorified for some egotistical and superficial reason. This storyline is giving the trope of the nerd that’s made fun of in high school for their geek hobbies that end up being the boss of their past classmates and become insanely rich because they started a tech company. Anyways, your haters are gonna be shocked, ahah! They’re gonna be speechless, so jealous! I love it, they’re getting their karma, they’ve really been nasty to you. They’ll watch you closely and resent you for the rest of their life. Don’t feel bad about it, they’re putting themselves through it. If you’ve been manifesting a specific car, you’ll be able to get it! For some of you, it’s multiple. If you’ve been postponing getting your license, you’ll end up getting it in a moment of your life where life feels so easy you might as well! You’ll have the control over your life you’ve been craving.

Keep taking confident action and introspecting, Bunny! You’re the powerful leader you think you are, and the life of your dreams is just around the corner.

396hz, air, blue agate, Hecate

↳ book a personal reading with me on ko-fi ★

decks used: oracle of heaven and hell by Travis McHenry, art oracles by Katya Tylevich, modern witch tarot deck by Lisa Steele, les vampires oracle by Lucy Cavendish, art oracles by Katya Tylevich

★ photo credits go to their rightful owner

[sunlightandprayers]

part two .ᐟ of childhoodbsf!simon who inevitably broke your heart

warnings : longing. aching. smidge of angst. feelings. oh! and simon redeems himself in this one (i think)

also, this was written on iphone once more and halfway proofread (•́ -•̀)

──────────୨ৎ───────────

it’s been 119 days since he left. classified mission. early departure. here an instant and vanished in the next. a true ghost. except he had never lived up to his name with you before.

you had always gotten a ‘see you soon’. sealed with a kiss to your forehead and callous thumbs brushing away the stream of tears reddening your cheeks in his least favourite way.

you had always gotten the fragile privilege of being wrapped up in his impenetrable arms.

safe, warm, held.

lungs always expanding a little more to try and soak up the feeling. to try to embed shards of him in your bones, so you’d never know a moment where he wasn’t, in a way, with you.

this time around though, he’d just… slipped away. a star extinguishing in the night sky. the same way “i love you” had dripped from your lips four months ago, without the sweet words being echoed back. an explosion, and then nothing. darkness. emptiness.

and the next day he was gone.

you knew it the moment you’d driven down the familiar road. the shutters were drawn, the lights off, the gravel and trees somehow too still.

like when he left, the world’s effortless vivacity had fell away with him.

the same way the fog and mist of dusk seem no more than a mirage once the sun blinks awake.

and now that simon wasn’t here to roll over in bed, stirring you awake at an ungodly hour, you woke up too late to catch the first rays glitter against the morning dew coating the true-blue petals of the forget-me-nots.

instead, you now roused closer to eight—the time you used to mumble about with your nose buried against simon’s chest. ironically, the late mornings seemed much more irksome now than the five forty-five ones. perhaps because they were lacking your favourite thing. your favourite person.

it’s not like life stopped when he was deployed. you still went to work. still got ready and grabbed a cocktail with friends on a friday night. still did the things your quotidian consisted of. it was just… never quite full.

a lot like the dull ache when you loose a teeth as a kid. knowing something will eventually replace the void, but being unable to stop your tongue from prodding the torn flesh.

the longer he was gone, the more his absence felt like something you could practically touch. like a wound that left a metallic taste in your mouth.

for more than a hundred days, life had become veiled by these suffocating shades of greige.

until you’d gotten the phone call.

when the name of simon’s captain lit up your screen, the ring of it all but jolted you out of your skin, molars nearly cutting through your cheeks.

all you heard price’s gravelly voice say through the crackle of the line was “lieutenant riley” and “back in england tomorrow night”. there was more said, and you’d probably talked too—if the call time of 6:37 minutes was any indication—but it all blurred together.

he was finally coming home. he was okay.

you needed to see him more than you needed your next breath. they all felt too shallow when his scent wasn’t weaving inside you anyways.

the next day, the hours went by at a snail’s pace. you had to stop yourself from driving to the airport four times already.

it was 10 am.

simon’s plane wouldn’t touch ground before 11 at night.

by two in the afternoon, you’d been about ready to crawl out of your skin. you’d cleaned your room, made lunch, went for a run, showered thoroughly afterwards and then you’d tried to pass time by watching a movie—which only managed to have you tap open your phone to look at the time every five minutes.

when nine pm rolled around, you couldn’t take the oppressing silence anymore. the drive to the airport took close to 40 minutes instead of 30—your zealous respect of the speed limits earned you several glares and even a few honks.

air stiffened in your lungs and your nerves were on the verge of fraying like used-up wires. the poor man next to you looked about ready to sedate you, if only to stop the jerk of your leg—the main source of his irritation, if the slicing looks he kept shooting your way you were any indication.

your brain was piecing together words of apology when you finally heard it. the dull thud of combat boots. the familiar cadence of his steps. measured, precise, smooth.

your eyes finally lifted to his own.

whiskey gaze surrounded by shadows of exhaustion and remnants of eye black.

blond lashes dipping in one, two, blinks.

simon’s steps had faltered when he’d noticed you standing there, but when he blinked and the vision of you didn’t disappear? it took all his might not to run to his sweet girl.

every doubt you held about him not wanting to see you vanished with every meter of distance his long strides ate up—all of those fears instead morphed into a knot of emotion that expanded so rapidly in your throat air had trouble filtering through.

“please… please tell me you’re real, sweetheart.”

the ache with which is spoke unraveled every last of your defences. a fortress crumbling in the face of one, single soldier. your soldier.

his voice still held the same rough drawl. his calloused hands cradling your face were still the safest place you’d known.

simon’s thumb glided across the apple of your cheek, so lightly it felt like a whisper—like he was making sure you weren’t a figment of his cruel imagination.

“i’m here, si.” a soft whisper. a gentle reassurance.

his ears buzzed and his veins crackled at a single word.

si. a nickname that had belonged to you, and you alone, for more than a decade.

he felt his knees wobble. tendrils of emotion wrapped around his heart and squeezed. like climbing vines around wrought iron.

right then, the weight of the world seemed to fall away from his strong, yet weary, shoulders at the sight and proximity of his home. so close. so reachable. so goddamn beautiful.

“i didn’t say it back.”

there was no mistaking what he was talking about. the air felt like it’d been punched out of you. suddenly, you were back in his bedroom. heart fracturing inside your chest violently, muscles rigid and so, so cold.

“i didn’t say it back. i- i’m so fucking sorry–” he croaked, his eyes turning a tormented shade of amber, as his words liquefied your bones down to the very marrow.

his torn apology washed away all the lingering pain and grief of his absence, leaving only a growing flame of heat behind.

“i love you. i’m so in love with you it hurts, sunshine. i know i’m late. i know you probably haven’t forgiven me. i know–”

petal-soft lips found his own, shutting off his brain and turning the rest of his apology to ash.

fireworks exploded along his spine and butterflies fluttered their velvet wings inside your stomach. it didn’t even matter that a layer of rough, soiled fabric separated your mouths—the burn of your taste seared him all the same.

time warped with each breath.

in reality, it had only been a handful of seconds, yet it felt like that simple kiss had erased all the ache of the past 119 days—a key finally turning into the lock of your happiest, safest place.

pressure built at the back of your eyes when he cradled you into his sturdy arms. his chin—probably adorned with a devastatingly sexy stubble—came to rest over the crown of your head as his large hand sank into your hair, protectively enveloping your skull.

the dam inside you broke when you inhaled him after so long, your nose tucked in that tender nook, just between his collar and jaw. musk, gunpowder, and a subtle flicker of pine trees. him. your simon riley.

your tears were soaking into his uniform, his heartbeat the only thing your ears wanted to bother listening to. his arms tightened around you as his chest vibrated against your cheek.

it wasn’t until you were back at your apartment that night, curled up against him in bed in a cocoon of soft blankets and the reassuring shield of his arms around your body, that you finally processed his words.

what johnny had quipped remained lost on you, but simon’s answering growl seemed to echo through the core of your very soul.

“let me hold my girl for a minute, soap.”

then, more quietly, like a prayer and an oath all at once—“let me love my sunshine girl a little longer.”

──────────୨ৎ───────────

ᝰ.ᐟ author’s note

part two is finally here eek! i was so, so excited to write this & after reaching more than 200 notes on part one (which is bananas btw, tysm for the love) i just had to.

i hope this lives up to you guys’ expectations xx

୨ৎ requested tags : @blackhawkfanatic @cece2608

[unknownati]

xiii. tap tap tap

a/n: im. Cooking. I swear

idk whether to finish my reqs first or my wips 😭 but lowkey i've been busy asf sorry 😞 i am slooowly chipping away at them

warnings/tags: no use of y/n, no desc of reader's physical features, gn!reader, sub!ekko, crop top, living my truth, orgasm denial, handjob, short bleghhh, unproofread THIS ENDING 😒

_______________________________________________

a small groan rumbles in ekko's chest as he leans over his workbench, papers scattered across the wood surface in a chaotic organization.

"ugh," ekko's head shook, nose scrunching in frustration. nothing was adding up—none of the math circled back to the main problem.

his z-drive got messed up in a fight, and the whole thing was completely off now. not being able to figure this stupid thing out had his forehead heating up, his fingers flicking his pencil between his fingers, a constant rapping against the table reminiscent to a clock ticking.

a whole room over, the sound made your ears twitch at the familiarity, your mind's attention shifting from the book you were reading to that consistent noise.

you've asked ekko many times to try to not make that noise—it's a distraction, gritting to your ears. each word you read gets replaced with a 'tap tap.'

you know the context behind that noise too—so why not help him fix it?

you peek into ekko's room, the tapping filling your ears more clearly. your presence is thick, even with your lack of noise, ekko realizes you're there. he gives you a small grunt of acknowledgment, no time to think about anything more.

your chin rests on his shoulder, palms running up and down his forearms. your eyes pass over the work he has, not a clue in the world what any of this means. what your eyes dart to instead was that pencil. still tapping. you hum. "what's wrong, baby?"

his nose scrunches and he sighs, shaking his head. "i just can't figure this out."

you let the sentence linger in the air, squeezing his shoulders, fingers slipping to kneed his biceps. "hmm...well, what are you tryna do?"

his lips form a line and then he opens his mouth, explaining the entire plan out to you with reasoning, showing you pictures, showing you evidence, everything. you weren't listening to a word.

"but the thing is, i tried both, and doing the first one leads me down a complete different road. and i'm wondering if it's because—"

"mhm," you hum as he continues speaking, your eyes trailing up his gesticulating arms, then down. his shirt was cropped, his midriff peeking out from the angle you were at. casually, both of your hands begin snaking down. they both stop at his waist. he doesn't notice—it's a regular occurrence. you're always touching the visible skin when he's wearing a crop top.

you couldn't lie, the sight was tantalizing. every time he reached up for something, the shirt would raise and give you a larger view of his abs. something about the crop top was so much better than seeing him shirtless.

it wasn't until your hand started creeping up his shirt that he fumbled over his words. "what are you doing?"

"nothing, sorry. keep talking."

he cleared his throat, stuttering for a moment but then getting back on track to his sentences. he asks something, some question related to the papers in front of him.

"hmm, well i dunno baby. talk me through it, what do you think?" you throw the ball right back into his court. good thing ekko likes talking, because he immediately had an answer for you, his mouth running once again.

you give half-hearted noises of acknowledgment between pauses in speech, meanwhile, the hand that wasn't up his shirt was slooowly making it's way down his pants. once you breached the band of his boxers, he stuttered again.

"what are you doing?" he re-asks, more emphasis on his words. you shake your head.

"focus on what you have to figure out, not on me."

he doesn't respond, zoning out as your fist closes around his dick. it's slowly growing in your hand, twitching at your touch. the hand up his shirt taps. "focus." you repeat.

"um," he groans, picking up the next sheet of paper. "i just think that—"

his sentence was cut short by a gasp, since you gave him no time to prepare himself, immediately starting to stroke him. he thinks he knows what game you're playing.

"think that...maybe i should try thinking about it the other...way around...i–f-fuck..." his sentence trails off, shaky breaths filling the air and ghosting around him. the tapping grows weak until it finally stops, wood clattering and rolling against the desk.

"you...?" you pick the sentence off where it ended, your wrist flicking rapidly. his knees feel weak— he leans his weight onto his palms, which rest against the edge of the table.

"god, i–i don't know. i can't focus with you doing that..."

you allow him a few more moments of bliss, and you can tell he's close. you're leading him right into your trap, moving faster,

"ah,"

faster,

"baby, please, i'm-"

faster,

"oh fuck,"

...then it's all gone. the tight coil in his tummy simply...crumbled rather than unraveling. he almost collapses, arms wobbling to hold himself up on the desk.

"that's how i feel when you tap that pencil."

before he can even process his confusion, you're out the room, door shutting behind you.

maybe an unconventional approach—but you never heard that tapping again.

[lotties-ashwagandha]

DIVINE REASONING (part one of ???)

(adult) lottie matthews x reader. 1.1k words.

after the crash, lottie turned to the divine. you turned to the scientific. either way, years have passed, and neither of you have let it go. in which you were a yellowjacket who survived the plane crash, and now you are a celebrated therapist. but when you arrive at lottie’s wellness center under unusual circumstances, it seems you are the one that needs offered help. read part two here.

They always pump the air conditioning up too much in the summer. You never say anything, because you’d feel like a real asshole, but every day you compare it to freezing to death.

It’s a good thing someone else already took that for the team.

“I just didn’t think it was a good idea to stay with her,” Bianca shrugs, “given what you told me about boundaries and everything.”

It’s a lie and you fucking know it. Bianca has told you the same thing about her ex-girlfriend four different times this month. By next week’s session, they will be back together.

You tilt your head to the side, hearing the muscles of your neck crackle softly. It only brings you temporary relief — you can feel her gaze cutting into you. After clearing your throat, you nod. “That’s a good practice of setting boundaries.”

Bianca sits up straighter. She looks proud of herself. You want to tell her not to get too high and mighty before she caves again and the whole thing crumbles, because Bianca has about as much self-control as a squirrel.

You look at the clock — two minutes left. Good enough, you think, and stand. You try your best to offer her a smile, one that seems warm and genuine, but you know it’s lacking. “You’ve done some great work. Remember what we talked about last week, being consistent in your self-awareness.”

Bianca nods vigorously and saunters out.

You take a deep breath — not because you are a pillar of strength and mindfulness, but because the air is too crisp and clinical that it’s suffocating.

Your office has always been a place of refuge. You have personalized it to a degree that sometimes you forget you’re a therapist, and the sun comes in just right in the mornings so that your desk is bathed in golden light that would usually make work feel recreational. Yet over the past few months, you’ve been fading. You have been burning out in the way you try to help your clients avoid. You’ve taken up smoking again, you are the therapist that people side-eye when they see you enjoying a cigarette a little too much in the back parking lot. It helps more than you’d like to admit, though, and you have started to understand why smoking was recommended for anxiety back in the day.

Hell, maybe you need therapy with the way things have been going.

Bianca didn’t shut the door after leaving. One of your colleagues raps their knuckles against the doorframe. You smile softly, and you don’t have to turn around to know that it’s Mila.

You stand, meeting her at the door.

“Bianca,” Mila smiles teasingly. “She told me as she walked out that things were over for her and that girlfriend…”

“I am legally bound to silence,” you say. “Bianca certainly is not, and you know what else she’s apparently not bound to?”

“What’s that?”

“Accountability.”

Mila nods, chuckling lowly so that no one else lingering in the hallway suspects the two of you. Colleagues might not be as good of a label as best friends.

Mila tosses some of her auburn hair over her shoulder and then presents you with a stack of fliers she had been holding. “By the way, did you bring these in this morning?”

You take one off the top of the pile. “No, what are they?”

“It looks like an advertisement for a wellness center. Self love, healing, growth… looks a lot like a cult to me, but if you brought them in, I was going to keep them displayed. No one else has claimed them.”

You examine what’s contained in the flier, the images of groups of guests clad in only purple and lists of goals for how the Sunshine Honey Wellness Community aims to pursue every effort to make individuals the best versions of themselves. ”I’ve never heard of these people before.”

“Want me to throw this shit out? What kind of psycho would sneak cult brochures into a mental health clinic?”

You shake your head, and you’re about to respond when you flip over the brochure and the words fade. It’s been over a decade since you last saw her, but you know. You would recognize her even if it had been centuries.

“Are you okay?”

You reach out and take the rest of the brochures from her hands. Your motions are aggressive, and you bump into Mila instead of stepping past her, but you can barely breathe.

You step out of the clinic and look for a number on the back of the brochure. You dial it before you can think this through, before you can escape from the choir of memories screaming at you as they emerge from the back of your mind — they scream as she did at hundreds of reporters when the plane landed, they scream like the people you killed with her in the woods all those years ago.

They scream like you want to when Lottie Matthews picks up the phone and introduces herself and asks in a very extravagant way how she can help you, oh woeful caller.

You can’t speak. You stand there with so many things to say to her, to scream, to cry and sob and wail about. You are silent. The only thing you can manage is a strangled breath.

Lottie is the woman you once believed was a prophet. “Hello?”

You hang up the phone. The fliers, too, escape you. They catch the breeze and scatter around the parking lot.

—

You go straight home after that, denying the rest of the day’s responsibilities and trying to pretend it had been a normal day at the office.

You can’t fall asleep that night, though. You were thinking about her all evening, unable to shake her voice from your head.

Lottie had sounded so centered. So controlled. You could tell why they believed in her as a leader. She was commanding, but soft — she sounded like the sort of person you could lay your heart and soul out bare to and she would handle them with care. She did not sound like someone you had murdered and tortured with.

Your thumb hovers over the button to call her back. It’s late, you shouldn’t call. She probably wouldn’t answer. You wouldn’t be able to speak anyway.

You hit the button.

She answers immediately.

You lie there in bed and wish you’d never called, because she greets you just as cheerfully as the first time and you are just as terrified.

Lottie waits a moment. The silence is patient. Then she sighs heavily and speaks.

“Listen… I know it’s you.”

this is a little series I decided to start bc my best friend and I are both writing fic series to challenge ourselves and give us inspo for non-fanfic related projects :P if you’re into the last of us and love joel, check out my best friend’s series on ao3. even if you’re a dirty little lesbian like me who doesn’t love joel, go and give kudos anyway because she deserves it.

yellowjackets taglist: @webism @ahauandthesun @chaithetics @szczurkanalowy @marleymarleymarleymarley @aphrodyk3 @ludasgf @pnsteblnme @il0veb0ttomsthem0vie

I’m still working on requests btw, hoping to post something else this week as well :)