#its being ✨self-deprecating✨

[xcerizex]

"How obvious it is when they like you."

When the boys like someone who has a tendency to overthink. Imagine if you meet the boys in real life, you're not going to be certain that they actually like you unlike in the game and when they start flirting with you, you won't be able to take their flirting at face value at all. Horrible overthinking, which we all suffer from.

Alkaid:

Your first impression of him is that he's generally nice to everyone, you see. After several rounds of flustered panic attacks, you gave him a nickname.

"Central air conditioner"

(This basically refers to a person who's nice to everyone)

This is when you first meet of course, so it left you flustered whenever he'd say or do anything sweet.

Sometimes you'd spend one hour during class just... overthinking about it. Trying to crush those rose-colored glasses.

You tell yourself that he's just being really friendly, like the same way he's always helping someone out.

It's evident seeing how many teddy bears he's gifted on a daily basis lmao

It's only after seeing the obvious difference between how he treats you and others when he comes in strong, do you consider his actions as him being romantically interested in you.

That's when it starts being really obvious. Like, really, really obvious.

(Psst, Halloween event.)

Anyways, the one suffering the most here is him.

Ayn:

It's pretty obvious.

Man won't take one foot out his house no matter how much anyone begs him to but the moment you invite him out for something silly he's at the door calling you slow.

Not exactly but you get my point.

A good thing about his blunt attitude is that it leaves little room for doubt. You don't have to think so much when interpreting his actions and words.

And you know you mean something special to him when he makes both small and big exceptions for you the way he wouldn't do for anyone else.

(Princess Day event)

In short, there's a lot less confusion because he's more forward in expressing his interest in you.

Like, whenever he'd tease you in a flirting manner on rare occasions, your brain starts to shortcircuit and it takes a few minutes for you to understand that he's doing it because he sees you in a romantic way before your face turns red.

He teases you for that too.

Lars:

I'd say it's more obvious than not, especially after you spend more time with him. Doesn't mean you don't get confused.

He was playful when you first met him so you never really took him seriously. Especially when you see the way other girls react when they're around him.

Not that you thought of him as a player of course, not at all. You always thought it was just his character. In fact, you found it sweet how he's always trying to support your dreams.

His support makes you wonder however. Sure he could just be interested in supporting a future artist, but sometimes you find his actions and words going beyond a simple sponsor.

It makes your head go around in circles. And it gets a whole lot worse whenever he does something so endearingly sweet, you know it's got nothing to do with business anymore.

It leaves you flushed red when you finally arrive to a proper conclusion after an hour of thinking.

He's going to be the death of you.

Clarence:

Unlike the others, he is less obvious with his affection. He's much more subtle in regards to showing it.

He's extremely attentive when it comes to you and it shows. He'll frequently remind you to take care of your health, offer to grab a small bite for you when you mentioned you've skipped breakfast, and gently reprimands you when you don't take care of yourself enough at times, saying how important your wellbeing is to yourself, and to him.

😵‍💫

These small acts of concern are so sweet it leaves your brain in an overdrive. You chalk it up to him being a responsible, duty-bound Student Council President and stay in denial for a good long while.

Many times you'd just start banging your head against the wall in order to not get your hopes up cuz' he's just so damn caring.

It's only when you realize that his care for you is particularly more affectionate and intimate, do you actually start believing that he likes you in a romantic way.

Cael:

Where do I start with this man?

His entire existence is a cryptic puzzle, his feelings are not gonna be any easier to pinpoint lmfao.

He's your guardian so naturally it's going to be harder for you to see him in a romantic light.

He could literally say "I love you" and you'd think internally;

'As a dad?'

💀

No wonder this man's not a LI until like, the third world lol.

While I wouldn't say it isn't obvious, his character makes it hard to discern his true feelings.

As time passes and if he's willing to accept his own feelings, his romantic affection for you becomes more apparent. It doesn't show, you just feel it.

It makes you wonder if you're being delusional. Sometimes you'd throw your pillow across the room whenever you started thinking about it. You'd call it absurd the moment you start believing that, maybe, just maybe, Cael sees you in a romantic way.

You're screaming into the sheets again. This is not going to be resolved anytime soon.

(Bonus!) William:

Oh, you get very confused.

William's the friendliest person on the block so it takes awhile for you to realize you mean something special to him.

Another "central air conditioner" ig?

Whenever he would go out of his way to help you, you tell yourself it's nothing special. That he would do the same for anyone because that's just how he is.

But one time you told him you'd fallen sick over text, literally ten minutes later he shows up at your door all sweaty with bags of medicine lined up on his arms because he forgot to ask what sort of sickness you had.

You spend the rest of your sick day mulling over if that meant anything because you literally cannot fathom if this was something he'd do for anyone else.

He does a lot of big things for the people he likes, but if it's for someone where it's beyond a simple friendship, you start to notice the smaller details in his actions.

It leaves your heart in a flurry and your mind in tangled threads. His actions however, are not bold enough to stop your thoughts from running the mile.

But trust me when I say that his feelings are more obvious to you than they are to himself.

So until he realizes his own feelings, you're both stuck. But once he does, he'll go all out to show you just how special you are to him.

[alastorsfuckassbob]

Vulnerable

Alastor x Fem!Reader- Part 3

WELCOME TO THE LOWKEY FAN SERVICEY PORTION OF OUR BROADCAST🗣️! Sorry for the long wait..uh ANYWAY- Its just a silly little steamy make out session I felt like writing lowkey unnecessarily added into the plot. Its character development This is done mostly on the grounds of I felt bad for being slow with the plot and wanted to give you radio demon lovers out there some crumbs.<3

✨The plot✨(these are getting worse as we go)

Our depressed dear y/n self deprecates in front of a "hang in there" kitten poster. before bitching about the cold on her walk home.Oh shit her house is broken into. In this life its just you and your shitty pocket knife. Nvm its a cool dress! She then spends a good half hour thinking about their old relationship's spicy times.

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️

-Mentions of domestic violence

-Mentions of alcohol

-Fuckass Val

-A little make-out sesh (smut is scary so you can use your little imagination to figure out what happens after)

Mornings in hell were colder than one might expect, despite the nearly constant blaze of sinner set fire. At its heart, Hell was frigidly cold, especially at night. A part of you had gotten used to the way it clawed deeply against your skin. However, the other part of you secretly begged to some god somewhere you didn't quite believe in to make the sun rise a little faster. It wasn't necessary by any means, Hell wasn't anything more than a desert. All you had to do was wait. The crisp morning would lose its glacial influence as the sunlight reached out to touch it just as it always did. You just needed to be patient. You take in a deep breath, attempting to let go of your displeasure.The sharp frosty air pierced your lungs, unknitting the last strings of warmth from your skin on impact. Your teeth began to chatter. You curl into the softness of your wings, it wasn't much, but it helped.

From your recently awakened slumber, you had briefly forgotten the events of the night before. However, upon seeing angel slumped in bed beside from you, the realisation took root. The recollection flattened your heart like a careless truck running over a measly stray bit of garbage

Your performance last night was nothing more than a falsified forgery. It was adorned with the typical strokes and details found in your normal act, but it was so hopelessly fake. Valentino could always tell when you were phoning it in. Despite his fraudulent demeanour, he demanded authenticity from you. After your previous..altercation, you just didn't have it in you to thread your harsh edges in salacious intent. You were an excellent dancer, but you hated the prying eyes that glued themselves onto your figure. Val wouldn't be happy with that. You were already voiceless, he already owned your soul. He couldn't physically take much more, but he could still make your life a relentless nightmare. The punishments he so easily gave out always had a creatively cruel flair. The thoughts brought on a familiar uneasiness. You could take whatever he threw at you, you wouldn't like it but you would endure. You didn't have to like it. Your grounds were barren in the terms of genuine will. You didn't have a reason to keep living, you just refused to die. You would endure until the red toned city around you pathetically crumbled back into the ground. You would watch the world you lived in reflect the terms of your anguish in twisted perfection over and over again...All by the hands of Valentino. You couldn't do much else. Your dimly lit soul had grown more accustomed to calloused hands and absinthe than you wanted to admit..It was just the way of things.

Great now you were cold and stressed out.

Your mind drifted to Angel. His crumpled hair and soft arms outstretched in your direction. The night before, he had spilled a glass of gin soaked secrets, revealing more than you expected him to. His drunken tears leaked into the brimstone walls of your heart. You learned his name was Anthony in life among other things. He probably didn't remember opening up to you, you were surprised you did.

He had been in Hell much longer than you had been..he had been with Valentino much longer than you had..years longer. The thought held more pain than your sore bruise lined body could feel.

Valentino had the poor habit of misguiding his frustration. As much as you pissed him off, your groans of pain just weren't as satisfying as Angels. Even if Val dragged your limp body across the studio, his nails dug deeply into the flesh of your skull, he wouldn't be satisfied if he didn't hurt Angel too. You couldn't help but wonder how he put up with it all. He was a lot stronger than people give him credit for. How long had Angel been his favourite toy? How many other souls tied to Valentino fucked up as you so often did? How did he deal with the brunt of that frustration tipped in his direction? How many times was he hurt because you didn't give Val what he wanted?

He was an angry disagreeable man he would always find some excuse to take that out on others.You knew that, you just hadn't stopped to think how many times had you been the excuse he used to justify how he treated Angel. Your hand brushed a stray strand of hair from his peaceful face. You didn't want to cause him any more pain.

Angel at least looked warm. He still slept soundly curled up towards the edge of the bed. His legs were neatly cocooned into a pile of various blankets. You stretched, shaking the sleep from your eyes and the fog from your brain.

You stood up glancing back on his sleeping form. A part of you felt bad for leaving Angel wordlessly.. His night wasn't great either, even if it was your fault, you could still help make it better. You could also make it worse. You couldn't risk that. He would get over your sudden absence, but what if you said the wrong thing and he hated you for it. He should hate you, after all it was your fault the night went to shit.

I mean even if for some reason he didn't want you to leave, it would be easier if he didn't have to explain why you're here to the literal princess of hell. Its not like you could tell her yourself. You'd rather walk home a bit early and save him the trouble.

You glance at the digital clock stationed on his nightstand, It read 5am. Hopefully the other residents of the hotel weren't early risers. that would really be hard to explain.

You walked into his bathroom to at least attempt to make yourself a bit more presentable. You let out the breathy shell of a laugh; amused by the emotionally supportive posters and positive notes that adorn the wall around the sink. He was trying in some way, he was trying to make the best of things. He didn't have anyone to remind him it was going to be okay besides the small grey kitten saying "hang in there". on one of the larger posters. You pick up a note in Angel's swirled handwriting

"You're hot in more ways than just physically! Nice ass but nicer everything else"

It was a little silly, but it made you feel better for a second. Your eye gets caught on your hellish exterior in the mirror. God- you looked rough.

The mascara stains under your eyes did nothing but highlight the heavy bags that already resided there. Your hair had awkwardly shifted back into its natural texture in some places and erupted in frizz in others. You were still wearing that burlesque outfit Valentino had picked for you. Russet red dried blood and what you assumed to be half a fruity cocktail stained the front. You looked like an extra in a poorly funded zombie film.

Ironically the outfit had been one of your favorites before then. It reminded you of Alastor- big surprise there- almost everything does at this point.

The cut of the top and the off shoulder sleeves reminded you of the dress he had bought you to celebrate your new part time gig singing at that little bar downtown. The outfit's color reflected it marvelously as well- sadly the similarities seemed to end there. The outfit had numerous cut outs and a slit up each side. It didn't leave much to the imagination, but those subtle details kept it in your good graces. Not that it mattered, it was practically ruined now. Maybe you thought too deeply, but it started to feel painfully ironic.

You had sewn into the outfit memories of an ill-fated gentle romance and a shared cup of camomile tea, but ultimately it doesn't change what it really was, stained with the shadow of lust...Just as you had been.

The outfit would never truly resemble that dress. Even if you found an ounce of similarity. Even if you dragged it to the tailor and used its corroded bones to recreate the dress exactly.They weren't the same, they could never be.

You weren't the same.

You hadn't been for quite some time.

In the end, it wouldn't matter if he would ever consider accepting you in the condition you're in. Your skin will always sustain the weight of Valentino's hand. The vulnerability in your soul had been sparked by fear as opposed to love. Whats done is done. Even if you had been crafted with the object of love in mind your heart had been distorted beyond the point of recognition, it could never really be the same again.

With that, you didn't want him to find you anymore. It would be worse to watch him fall out of love with you as he realised you weren't the same. The love you had so protectively harboured in your heart for the devilish man was cut loose. It drifted away into the rotting sea of your soul surrounding it. You couldn't bring yourself to tear down the post you had previously tied it to. Even if you told yourself you couldn't love him any longer, the hole he left in your heart was too large for your will to cover.

You shrug on the coat you had slung on the floor before crashing last night and slide on your shoes.

You grab a pen from Angel's desk-if you could even call it that. It was nothing more than an old bar stool with a jar of pens and a pink glittery notepad. You scrawled a simplistic message. You didn't want him to worry about you. Even if he said he didn't care, he was sensitive. You didn't want to hurt him any more than you had already.

" Hey Angie! I went home- don't worry I wasn't kidnapped! Eat something for breakfast or I swear to god I'll make you eat an eyebrow pencil next time I see you..Love ya lots<3" Your handwriting was a bit messier than normal but it did the job okay.

You walked to the door, opening it it quietly, the lock behind you clicking as you shut the door to Angel Dust's room.

Finding your way out of the hotel was trickier than you expected but nothing you couldn't manage. Once outside you began to shiver. You tugged your coat tightly against your skin, not that it helped much. You refused to fly in such icy temperatures. The wind would be far less intrusive at a slower speed.

The walk from your apartment to the hotel was a little over an hour. Perhaps if you weren't so hung over it wouldn't have taken you as long.The sun just begun to peak out from the horizon, simultaneously allowing enough space for the nightly wind to have free passage, and the blinding light of the sun to assault your eyes; your own special little fuck you from the universe.

The steps up leading to your third floor flat were much steeper than you had previously recalled. Hauling your body up them took a lot more energy than you care to admit. Out of breath and slightly sweaty you were finally headed down towards your room.

Your steps creak in harmony with the ancient building's crumbling walls. You glance down the hallway at what you had hoped would be a chance to decompress.

You stop abruptly a few units from your own. The door was ajar. You pull a short pocket knife from the side of your shoe. The rusted knob looked no worse than it already did. The lock however, featured a few more scratches than you recalled.

You were too tired for this bullshit, You hadn't actually used a knife before. Stabbing people seemed like an intuitive thing to do, but your inexperience left you drenched in anxiety. Nothing within you wanted to go inside, but your legs begged for rest. There really wasn't any use in preventing the inevitable. Eventually you would go inside or whoever was inside would come out. Either way its stab or be stabbed. The door whines as you slide yourself inside. You knew the situation was dangerous, all you had was a shitty knife you mostly used to open packages. If someone was here to kill you..without your voice no one would even know. You pushed the thought aside. You could still run. You could still fly. You weren't hopeless.You crept throughout the apartment with the knife raised steadily in front of you- ready to fight whatever had arrived.. Nothing ever came. By the first two rooms you had lost your concern. It was just how you left it. You stepped into your bathroom, locking the door behind you. You must have just forgotten to close the door behind you the day before.

You glanced around the bathroom before you noticed it was not in the disrepair you'd left it in. A fresh bouquet of roses sat neatly in the vase, the old dried flowers tied and hung above them to use in your next bath. The radio you had so unfortunately melted been replaced by an antique model adorned in golden trim and a stained glass depiction of a small canary. Lastly, a neatly wrapped vermillion box sat on the opposite side of your vanity, a wax sealed envelope tucked between the box and the large velvety bow.

This was a bit ( really fucking) weird. Curiosity over took you as you reached for the dark inky envelope.

You trace the underside of the waxy seal with the edge of your knife, effectively tearing it from the envelopes dark paper. You unfolded the letter unsure where something like this would even come from. You had admirers, but anything they said or gifted to you went through Valentino first. He was the only one he deemed fit to give or take anything from you. He was greedy in the gifts he received and thoughtless in the gifts he gave. None of this felt thoughtless.

Dearest y/n,

I believe it is time you were compensated for all that I have put you through these past two days. I believe you would simply sparkle in this color. If it is to your liking, please wear it tonight. I hope to see you there.

With love,

-Yours truly

Val had gifted you dresses and other fashions in the past, more for his own satisfaction than as a reward. He rarely wrote the notes himself or even delivered the gift. He left it up to an unlucky assistant or just threw the garment in your face in passing.. Nothing about this felt like anything he would do. Perhaps one of his newer assistants didn't get the memo he is a massive piece of shit.

Regardless, you were curious to see what odd fantasy you were fulfilling tonight. You untied the ribbon. Upon lifting the lid, you realised today was going to end up much stranger than you'd hoped. Nothing about this made sense. The dress reminded you of something you might have worn out in your younger days..Was Val planning some weird 20s fetish night or just attempting to fuck with you? He knew the details of your past, with the exception of Alastor's involvement. Perhaps it was some form of psychological warfare you didn't understand.

Upon closer inspection , the dress was astoundingly quite tasteful. You pulled the item from the box pleased it kept going. Usually if the purchased dress was "too long" it would be cut short before it arrived in your hands, causing you a stressful few hours with your sewing machine fixing seams and hem lines.

You slid of the shell of your dirtied clothes and stepped into the dress. It fit you like a glove. The familiar 1920's silhouette and subtle inclusion of art deco threatened to pull you back into your old habits. It really was a gorgeous dress. The beaded scarlet fabric clung to your hips before slightly flaring at your knees. It sported a neckline adorned with crystals that dipped off of your shoulders and into the sleeves The back of the dress scooped down to your lower back a deeper toned train following it. Despite your otherwise disheveled appearance, you felt beautiful.

You look down at the red fabric pooling behind you, you don't want it to, but your mind begins to shift.

1929: New Orleans: The Bar

Your hands shake more than you wished they would, no matter how many times you sang here it always left you feeling anxious. The music sways in tandem with the bars patrons, mimicking the constant lull of conversation. You began to sing.Your voice cuts through the clinking of glasses and exhilarating cheers with a crystalline ring. You glance over to the bar in view of Alastor. His eyes trapped in a half lidded love led daze, filled with nothing but adoration for you.

You glance back down at your hands. They are covered in black velvet, contrasted by a simple pearl bracelet hanging loosely from your wrist. It was one of the many from Alastor on your birthday earlier that year. You had insisted it was far too much, and he insisted you were making far too big a deal of it. He wanted you to feel appreciated and loved, what better way to accomplish that than with a meaningful gift.

He wasn't fantastic with words when it came to you. His hands craved contact with your own. The sentiment he needed to convey didn't fully exist within the bounds of english, or french for that matter. You were worth more than any riches the world could offer you. He could spend his nights bottling starlight and collecting bits of moon and lay them at your feet, and he still wouldn't feel like it was enough. His mind drifted to your past. You were private with the majority of the details. He had collected the story over time from thoughtless anecdotes you mentioned in passing. He knew life before him hadn't been kind.Your mother had died during your birth, but her face stayed firmly in your grasp. Your father hated you for that reason, and he was not a pacifistic man. He felt you had taken the love of his life and left him alone with nothing more than a portrait you hadn't yet grown into. He had been sickly the majority of your life. The more you grew in likeness to your mother the less he fought to get better. He died when you were only 14, leaving you to fend for your siblings. You had raised them just as much as you raised yourself. If the world wasn't going to gift you a delicate existence. Alastor certainly would be. In that moment he vowed to make sure you never felt worried or lost ever again, he couldn't bare the thought of it.

He was shaken from his thoughts as the song climaxed into a loud jazzy finish. You glanced over at him again with a smile. You stepped down from the stage, the red fabric trailing behind you. You walked across the bar and into his arms. He instinctively wraps around your waist, his hand nestled into your own. The moment is pure ecstasy.

"If I could on pick one sound to hear for the rest of eternity it would be your darling voice mon cher" His honey toned voice whispered into your ear. You looked marvellous but the sound of your voice was entrancing.

Your eyes roll, a satirical air taking over your tone. "How many times did you rehearse that line Al?"

" Very evidently not enough. You've made i clear I needed a bit more rehearsal" His familiar sarcastic attitude evident in his tone. "For such a pretty face you have a hard time accepting a compliment"

You giggle into his chest.He placed a kiss against your forehead. Subconsciously you lean into his touch. You can't help but want to be closer to him. Your arms stretch around his neck effectively pulling him into a hug.

"My my, someones touchy this evening" his distinctive laugh following shortly after. It was the kind of laugh you could hear across a crowded room twenty years in the future and immediately know it was him. your hands travel to either side of his face, cupping it gently. Before you know it, your lips meet his. This kiss is slow and delicate at first. It is imbued with ever ounce of love you have ever felt for each other. His grasp on your waist tightens, pulling you in as close as humanly possible. The dark brown strands of his hair tangle into your hands. The kiss heats up faster than either of you care to admit before you finally register you're in public. He quickly composes himself, as do you. A sly smile stretches across his face. He glances down at your dress, his mind floating aimlessly searching for an excuse to be alone with you. Despite how deeply he loved you, he wasn't the type to display that in public. It felt a bit unsavoury. You were his and his alone.

"Darling, I think you may have torn your dress, during your wonderful performance. Would you allow me to help you fix it in a more, secluded location"

You looked down at your dress not entirely understanding what he meant. He always had your best interest in mind, perhaps he saw something you didn't. Besides, you didn't want to ruin the dress he bought you any further than you already had unknowingly.

"Oh I didn't realise it had torn. Of course, thank you love."

You take his hand in yours and lead him into the small dressing room. It was really just an extra office the owner had put a few mirrors, a changing screen, and vanity into. You stood in front of the taller of the two mirrors attempting to locate the tear.

"Alastor love, I don't see what you mean perhaps it was the ligh-"

Before you can finish your sentence his lips are pressed against your own. You lean into the kiss grasping onto his vest to steady yourself. You're caught in your own personal whirlwind. Your hands are glued against his sepia skin.

He breaks the kiss for a moment kissing the corner of your mouth trailing down your jaw and onto your neck. He sucks lightly against your skin

You're so precious to me y/n" his voice is deeper than it normally was. It held each desire he felt and simultaneously every ounce of adoration.

You let out a soft gasp as he lightly bites the side of your neck. He travels along it as your hands tangle themselves in his hair once more. God you didn't want this to end, but you wanted to feel closer to him. You drag him away from your neck placing your lips against his once more.Your hands trace the outline of his shoulders. His hands explore the curve of your spine and the softness of your waist. He lifts you up and sits you against the vanity. Subconsciously your legs wrap around his waist deepening the kiss. (scream)

"I have never loved someone the way I love you Alastor..thank you for letting me" You breathe out in between kisses.

He wasn't one to let people in. Not truly, he had a public persona and a private one. You were glad to get to know the esteemed radio host outside of the studio. You were so glad he let you seen him the way he was so afraid to be perceived as...Vulnerable.

A/N: LOL IM SORRY THAT ONE WAS KINDA SHORT. Also please let me know it the writing style and lengths are working. I've never really written before so Idk the right way to do this. Thanks for reading :) <3

-Also congrats to me for not using a song as the crutch to come up with a title.

[royal-chandler]

@caressthosecheekbones is made of magic ✨

she and i spent a little time imagining a missing scene after the boys get caught by zahra and thus a little ficlet was born.

thanks for always being willing to toss prompts at me, brainstorm and gleefully coo over firstprince with me, caress! 🥰

—

“So, I did not have that on my bingo card for this morning,” Alex comments awkwardly, seconds into the stunned silence that Zahra’s left behind. “Shit, Henry, that’s on me. I completely forgot to set my alarm last night.”

“I’d say we’re both to blame for that,” Henry replies. Low and bluntly, he adds, “You and I did a remarkable job of distracting one another.”

Alex shakes his head, increasingly fond of the man beside him. “Happy to hear that Zahra didn’t scare the humor out of you.”

“Not so much, no,” Henry says. His somewhat self-deprecating smile fades and concern moves into its place, his gaze scanning and surveying. “I’m more concerned with you. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alex says, scratching his stubble as he heads back into the bedroom. Picking through the wardrobe, he chooses a crisp white shirt, finds a fresh pair of slate-blue slacks hung with its matching jacket. He flings it all on the bed and lies, his hands flexing over and over, “Yeah, I’m good. Good as gravy.”

Henry has followed him and, of course, he’s got a look like he sees right through Alex—all the way to the anxiety that slides through Alex’s guts and rabbits under his skin. Henry’s concern has now manifested into a frown, an all-too-cute and familiar dip between his brows. He says, “No, you’re not. I—maybe my coming here wasn’t the smartest decision. It was irresponsible and careless and I shouldn’t have—”

“What? Oh my God. Can it,” Alex interrupts hurriedly, skidding Henry’s words to a stop. He closes the distance between them and his hands appreciatively slide along the length of Henry’s arms before drawing him in so their fronts fit together. He doesn’t know exactly where the next thing out of his mouth was previously lodged but Henry’s self-criticism wrenches it free. The taste and shape of the endearment feel absolutely right as it leaves him. “Baby, you walking into the bar last night was a sight for sore eyes. Seeing you isn’t ever a mistake in my book. Texas was amazing and I always love being there and I’m proud of the hard work but I really fucking missed this. I missed you.”

Henry visibly softens and soon he’s kissing Alex’s nose with his own, nuzzling near the side of it before his lush mouth touches to Alex’s briefly, a warm and sleep-sweet curl. His hazel eyes gleam with tenderness and Alex melts, dissolved into a loose-limbed form and his worries eclipsed by the closeness of Henry.

“I missed you, too. I only wish that you weren’t in this position. You should be free to come out to your mother on your own timeline—if you ever even chose to.” Henry continues, “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be,” Alex says. His hand climbs to the column of Henry’s throat en route to Henry’s jaw and there he holds Henry in place, meets his doubt with unflinching conviction. “Don’t take that on okay? I told Zahra I don’t want to drop this, that I won’t drop this. I meant that. So, yeah, I’ll take everything that comes with it.”

“It seems a steep and disproportionate price, Alex.”

“You’re not often wrong, Henry, but when you are, it’s all the way left, I gotta say.”

“Are you—?”

“Sure? Yes, a hundred percent. I’m nervous as fuck but I know what I’m doing. Plus, Zahra’s right. It’s political malpractice to keep this from my mom. She can’t afford getting caught flat-footed during this campaign.”

“Right. Speaking of which,” Henry starts after a parting kiss that Alex unabashedly chases after, “You have two minutes at most to finish putting yourself together. The Brexit threat was aimed toward me but I have a vested interest in you staying in one piece.”

“You’re the stud standing in my shirt,” Alex says, reveling in Henry, from his mussed hair that hangs over his forehead and down to the peek of his tiny striped shorts, his thick thighs and miles of leg. He catches Henry’s blush on the way back up. “And the nerve of you to look that fine in it.”

“You have one strewn across the bed,” Henry reminds him. “Unless you want this specific one back?”

“Keep it. We’ll get you fashion-forward, yet.” Alex smirks and laughs with startled delight when Henry pushes him away. “Do you know how much I love it when you do that? Like that’s not gonna get me out of here any faster.”

In a rewind of the previous night, they dress with immediacy. Henry unbuttons Alex’s shirt and stows it in his suitcase while Alex shimmies out of one pair of pants and hops into another. Alex takes up seconds to gawk and joke that outfit is eleven steps back when Henry pulls on an oatmeal colored crew neck after earthy brown bottoms, has to duck a rolled up ball of used socks that Henry pitches at his head. A ball that Henry ends up having to retrieve from the sheets they land in in order to complete his packing.

Suddenly mack-trucked by affection and crushed doubly with need, Alex takes advantage as Henry leans over the bed, molding himself to Henry’s back and wrapping him up. To Henry’s noise of question and surprise, Alex answers quietly at the nape of his neck and short, soft hairs there, “Ten seconds. Ten more seconds.”

“Zahra—”

“—is fucking brilliant at what she does and has bailed me out so many times that I’m hundreds of gift baskets in debt. She’ll come up with something. I’m on an urgent phone call, I’m finishing up a breakfast meeting with a news correspondent for a quote. I’m tied up in business that’s incredibly important.”

“That’s me then?” Henry jokes.

“Yeah, baby,” Alex admits, the truth punching out of him and his voice terrible. His heart shivers at the soon to be loss of the man in his arms, his insides re-tangling into a knot of misery. There never seems to be enough time.

After an inaudible beat, Henry asks, “Alex, darling, can I look at you?”

“I’ll allow it,” Alex replies, a stutter in his breath. He places a series of kisses to the back of Henry’s neck and down to his spine. Then, Alex lets him go.

Henry turns around and with wonder written in face, the first thing he does is catch his finger around Alex’s silk tie, tugging it lightly. He informs Alex, “This is crooked.”

“You can straighten the tie but you can’t straighten the man, Fox,” Alex says, a little clumsily, his bravado unsteady.

“Fucking menace,” Henry murmurs, sounding endeared. He unfastens the tie and then proceeds to slip and fold the ends into a Windsor knot. When he’s done, he flattens his palm to the center of Alex’s chest. Henry looks up and it may be precarious, Alex’s thought that those bright hazel eyes are romance-rimmed, colored with an emotion deeper than casual. “We’ll meet again soon, yeah? This is simply a bookmark, Alex. That’s all.”

Alex enjoys the imagery of it, a temporary marker in their pages with more chapters to pen. That there will be more of last night—scattering laughter into and against the edges of each other’s mouths, tucked safely away from the world as they share stories and become well-versed in one another.

For now, Alex scripts in another kiss. He captures the give of Henry’s lips with deliberate care and reverence, plying them open with his tongue and swallowing Henry’s little exhales. Thumbs pressed against the hinges of jaws, the gentle coaxing seamlessly sinks into insistence, the two of them greedy to make it count—like they can leave behind and take away traces of each other. Time slurs immeasurably before he and Henry are content, their foreheads meeting softly over a tide of quick, breathy sighs.

“You’d better get going,” Henry says in a hush. “Before they put out a search party or unleash a battalion. Whatever it is you Americans do.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, roughly. He walks away with the awful, lead-heavy knowledge that he’ll come back and Henry won’t be there. At the open door, he says, “Have a safe flight and let me know when you land.”

“I’ll be sure to. And you’ll tell me how things go, after you’ve done it?” Henry asks. He’s heartbreakingly beautiful and kind, a vanishing dream. “I want to be there for you, no matter what the outcome is.”

“I’ll be all up in your inbox,” Alex promises, throwing up a peace sign and then slipping out, the door clicking shut behind him.

[bitdemonic]

Hey bestie boooooooooooooooo, you already know I’m up in here 🗣️ ‼️

How do you think the reception of specifically my debut and first project (the EP I’m working on) will be like?

Love ya - 💋🫶🏽

princess eva🥰 tyyy for participating and being patient, love you bunches! hope this resonates sister

four of wands. three of cups. nine of swords. the magician. magic.

for starters, i noticed that this version of “rules” i chose has a different cover art opposed to the one i’m used to (hot pink album)—this makes me think that your ep is going to be an original, or that its uniqueness makes it a standalone. it feels like the unique aspect revolves around the sound; maybe it doesn’t match the cover art or it’s more of something than expected to be? hard to decipher tbh and i feel like that’s part of the illusion on your end as well; i feel seductive and mystical but it's not at all sexual, it's mysterious. funnily enough this feels planned (obviously lmao); i sense hopeful energy, like wanting this reaction to happen or dreaming of a similar reaction. with the magician card and magic card (purple; creativity + spirituality) being present, this can indicate using divinity to receive this response as well (manifestation, praying, visualization). two cards representing metaphysical forces give me the impression of your spiritual team working overtime; watchful eyes are protecting this project and they're keeping it "safe" by making sure it's created with passion. you'll find yourself not feeling motivated or bothered to mess with your music although you really want to; maybe scrapping tracks that had potential but lacked the "it" factor—this is their influence behind the scenes. instead of using your perfectionism against you (trying to break it or cause disruption), your guides support the "bad" habit because it inevitably creates something good (understatement fs).

in terms of the public debut; it's going to be on a social media platform or streaming service (if not both)—channeling "snapchat" right now and it seems to be a reference to promoting your name wherever you can. this is a new new beginning, one that's more special than the last so you're doing what you have to without shame. apart from this determination you’ll be dealing with your own internal response; very self deprecating tbh, it seems you're not the happiest in this moment. despite the outcome being “good” and worth celebrating, you’re digesting the fact that good isn’t perfect. “validation” and a small frown on your face came in; you were expecting things to go a certain way, or the way you imagined it. the desired outcome isn’t reality (at least not in the beginning) and you’re resisting the acceptance of it. def work on getting out of your head beautiful, everyone has to start somewhere and it’s going to be worth the journey.

audience and ep wise, i’m hearing “good news” and seeing sirens go off lol. their perception of your persona will def lead into following the track of your music (day ones, supporters since the beginning). majority of the people that listen to your ep (music in general) will be piscean themselves; guided by neptune and either constantly in the dream state or wanting to escape it. your music offers sanctuary, especially since i’m seeing someone put in headphones and fall into their bed with a sigh. “melatonin.” it’s a drug, listening to your harmonies and instrumentals during late nights or in parked cars. this is the literal definition of a vibe, being one with the source and sitting in the moment. it’s immersive. the first artist that came to mind was jhenè aiko; her entire catalog is the embodiment of immersion, ten seconds in and you’re already floating lol; this is what you’ll master as an artist. very cool and it’ll be recognized as such. all in all you’ll have a beautiful rollout, especially considering that this will be a spiritual accomplishment and the first chapter of a new era. good luck!✨

[thesweetestdevotion]

Hi there 🩷 I was wondering, do you do future spouse readings? My initial is C, I’m a Scorpio, and to be honest at the moment I can’t imagine myself being with anyone in the future even if growing up I always dreamed of marrying my soulmate and having kids someday. I’ve been through a lot especially in terms of relationships (romantic and platonic) and I’ve ended up isolating myself a lot with the years and putting my walls higher and higher. I feel like even nowadays I still have a lot of pain and trauma to work through and heal from, and I really struggle letting people in, even friends. I’m afraid of getting hurt again and not being able to recover afterwards. If you don’t see me being with anyone in the future it’s fine, I was just wondering if at some point in the future I could’ve healed enough for that kind of connection, or if a connection like that could help me heal instead. If this makes you uncomfortable and you don’t want to look into it it’s ok too. Hope you’re well, best wishes ✨

Hey! seems like youve been thinking over this topic alot, i hope my reading brings you some clarity.

Dice: Aquarius, 12th house, Mercury

Tarot: Four of Cups, Two of Cups, Four of Coins, Ace of Wands, Five of Coins, The Devil

Your dice tell me that youve fallen into a deep contemplation over this subject, but the energies feel hazy to you and this causes confusion and thus detachment, especially from you emotional body. Youre trying to rationalize love, when in reality its not rational. Love is an energy that cannot be analyzed, explained, or contained. It is shapeless and free, something even i as a reader can only get a glimpse of, and even then its ever changing! it moves freely through all planes of existence and we only aggrieve ourselves when we dwell too much on the mechanics of it.

as for your tarot, the first card that jumped out was the two of cups (partnership, emotional) so yes!! i see that love is a possibility for you. However i see that you need to find that there is an opportunity somehwere that you are overlooking in favor of keeping a hold on the stuation. let go of your expectations and work on grounding yourself in the real world. I mean that literally, not to tell you to touch grass lol, but you could benefit from putting all your energy in a physical and creative outlet. Something you can feel and touch, like an art project, a volunteer opportunity, or a movement routine. This will help get you where you really wanna be. I think the devil here is telling me you ruminate on self deprecating feelings when its not good for you to do that. The hermit card wanted to come out ( isolation, loneliness) but it literally stayed stuck and didnt end up showing up. This is telling me you have the means to get yourself out of your lonely bubble. I see a beautiful world awaits you and surrounds you, theres no need for quests to find it! you have it and dont even know it.

As for love, for you, i want you to work on letting go and trusting in yourself and the universe. Love is everywhere if you only know how to look for it. it is ever present in all of our lives, even if we dont feel it. I think spending time in water might be helpful, idk why spirit wants me to tell you that. only if you are able to hehe, but im seeing even just putting out a water bowl for birds, or drinking more water is beneficial for you. Get attached to your body, feel your emotions, let them run through you and guide you where you need to be! i hope this was helpful and it resonated! i didnt get tanthing about a specific person, because spirit told me to emphasize that you have the ability to create your reality as you wish. Take a chance on yourself first. xxx

[sungbeam]

BFF I’M BACK LITRALLY THE DAY AFTER AND BOY DO I HAVE UPDATES FOR YOU 🤭🤭🤭

1. I STARTED OUTLINING AND DRAFTING MY FIRST FIC EHEHEHE AND SUPER EXCITED TO START WRITING IT 🤭

2. I FINISHED READING [REDACTED] AND I THOUGHT ABT THE MOST HEART WRENCHING, TUMMY CHURNING, EYE BAWLING PLOT AND TBH IF I DO GET SO INCLINED TO STICK WITH IT THEN IT MIGHT COME OUT BEFORE THE FIRST THOUGHT OF FIC LMAO

3. I NEED TO KNOW ABT ‘A STUDY IN MONSTERS’ RIGHT NEOWWWWW 😫🙏 CAUSE I JUST THOUGHT OF LIKE 5 DIFFERENT GENRES BASED OFF THE VIBES/p

Ok time for a more calmer vibe LMAO

For the first fic I genuinely think that any member would be suitable for the ML? And so I decided to let you (my fav author and parasocial bestie) to bequeath which member this fic shall belong to 🤭 (uhhhh spoilers/insight: dream realm(?) but not in a soulmate way, angst, possibly abrupt/open ending but also happy in a way, v fluffy moments at the same time tho, manic pixie dream boy???)

And finally after adoring the movie I decided to go read [redacted] and LORD WHY DID IT HURT 39475629 TIMES AS MUCH AS THE MOVIE LIKE

Movie: light work, no reaction

Book: oUUuU, okay, its got a lil kick 😨

But I got an au perfectly inspired by this in a modern retelling typa way ig SPOILER ALERT THERE IS A LOVE CORNER, CHANHEE AND SANGYEON OR YOUNGHOON(???) we WILL be getting a lil Kevin up in here tho TRUST

And tbh it could go in 2 different directions rn but I’ll have to see which one will get a conclusive ending but the vision is definitely there dw

And DAMNNNNNN I didn’t know there were so many WIPs/nm/p like I know I got a lil snippet of 3 in the past but with each drop of a new WIP I get even more excited 😭 just seeing your creative process is motivating to me lolol and the banners AHHHHHHHH IT REALLY DID GIVE “graphic design is my passion 🤭” YUHHH YUHHHH

but wait also looking at the list again I wanna see more into the ‘bones (orig.)’ and ‘bones (remixed)’ 😳

OH AND BEFORE I FORGET TO MENTIONNNNNNN that Spiderman!Sunwoo and Spiderman!Eric did have me REEEEEEELINGGGGG esp since I finally got the chance to watch across the spiderverse PHEWWWW Spiderman!Eric is just so cheeky, so himbo, so smoochable like damn I do think he is capable of wanting to attempt the Toby Maguire upside-down kiss but then getting too nervous/excited/antsy that he lets go of his web and crashes on the ground AJNDJBVINWI

AND SUNWOO AS STARLORD WOULD ALSO WORK CAUSE HE REALLY HAS THAT SELF-DEPRECATING HUMOR THING GOING ON and then his cheesyness too omg I think Sunwoo is perfectly corny to be starlord 😫🤞

AND ALSO MY ATEEZ BIAS ISSSSSSSSSSSSSS -drumroll please- 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

Wooyoung! 🥳🥳🥳

He’s just so sweet and caring and hot and beautiful and hardworking and loving and he’s so, he’s so, he’s so- ☹️☹️☹️☹️

Yeah, I love Woo with my whole being 😔🙏

Kk that’s it for nowwwwww talk to you soon!

- Toodles!, 🌷anon 

HI BEST FRAN WELCOME BACK 🤩✊🏼

OMG THE DRAFTING HAS BEGUN???? LESGO????? I AM SO EXCITED FOR U AND SUPER EXCITED ALSO TO SEE UR JOURNEY AND THE FINAL OUTCOME 👀✨

HELLO WAIT what is [REDACTED] 🤨 i need to know for research purposes and cuz im a nosy mfker and cuz i also scoured thru our prev interactions and don't think we talked abt it previously 🤨

AHHHHSHAHHAHAH A STUDY IN MONSTERS IS COMING RIGHT UP !!

ITS LIKE BEAUTY AND THE BEAST BUT EVERYBODY'S A BEAST ???? well, the main cast is all considered some kind of "monster," but ofc, the real monsters r the humans who have belittled them and villainized them. but reader basically has like,,, medusa powers??? and chanhee has like a demon trapped inside him and younghoon is like fae but THE SCARY fae you feel??? but any who, i've gotten some back story done and it's not meant to become like a 30k one shot or anything; i was trying to aim for it to be kind of like the length of simple gifts, but we'll see where i go w it !!

OKAY BUT WAIT U SHOULD TELL ME WHAT U THOUGHT OF WHEN U SAW THE TITLE CUZ IM VERY CURIOUS !!

okok i have so much to say abt the next part of ur ask 😭😭 1.) BEQUEATH 💀💀💀💀 2.) hello stop that rn flattery will get u everything u desire 🤧😌 3.) MANIC PIXIE DREAM BOY AHAH OMG IM SO HYPED 4.) eric, juyeon sounds abt right 😻😻

OKAY BUT LIKE books > their movie adaptations tbh lsnfkenfk there is so much that books can show that movies can't, and also vice versa !! but WTF DYM BY LOVE CORNER (´Д⊂ヽ GIRLIE BESTIE HONEY WHAT IS A LOVE CORNER 😭😭😭 w chanhee sangyeon younghoon AND beloved kevin too???? my /guy/ do u want me to cry 😃 wait don't answer that—💀 omg i feel like i almost never have an idea of what an ending looks like UNTIL I GET THERE LMFAOOOO like i really don't care abt endings cuz i can't get to the ending if there is not story substance, u feel 😭😭😭 but im sure the ✨right ending✨ will appear in ur horizons as u go forth !!

KANDKDNDKN i had to keep quite a few wips off the list 😭💀 it's embarrassing akdnkdnf BUT im so glad that seeing my process motivates u TT that's very cool to hear and i also like talking abt the writing process a lot so thank u for feeding into my self esteem /hj AHHH SHUSH UR GONNA MAKE ME BLUSH I LOVE MAKING BANNERS SO THANK U 😚 im too tech grandma to use canva or photoshop so i feel like a lot of mine r a little simpler and more minimal which isn't bad ofc but yeah, thanks so much :'))) BRO i wish i could go into graphic design skfnkdndk

OHOH the bones orig and remix ver LMAOOO

both versions r meant to be like murder mysteries yk?? and they're both set in time settings where it's not quite the future, but im also not a historian so they're also not completely historically accurate T-T they just take place in the past LMFAO but the original ver is more like dark academia centered where the murder takes place at this elitist academy/boarding school in the middle of nowhere, and reader is like a "charity case" whose uncle took her under his wing after her parents were murdered or something, and changmin is like studying to become a physician and they both get looped into the investigation. i have a some written of that ver but it's not very interesting 💀

AND recently like two days ago 💀 i went back to one of the ideas i had for the banner before i started writing the dark academia one (wow that's such a long sentence). anyways, said idea was to take place in like ,, not a school 🤡 but idk if you've read the stalking jack the ripper series but it's based on that !! AND a little bit of six of crows too 🤡 it's not fantastical or anything, but changmin is like a doctor in the lower end and someone's been out here murdering people and shit. changmin is also kind of inspired by daredevil and kaz brekker, but i'll have to get into that some other time 💀

that was one of my favorite parts lol i think this ver of bones has captured a bit more of my interest than the other ver? tho, i would love to see where the other ver went, just cuz i already put so much thought into the storyline and characters and headcanons and back stories, etc.

AHHHHHH YES I AGREE ABT SPIDEY!ERIC I LOVE SPIDEY ERIC he's just ,, yk Just Some Guy™ LMAO so he's a perf spiderboy !!! he's kind of modeled after tom holland's spiderman and sunwoo after miles morales ofc, but eric would TOTALLY try the upside down kiss and fail miserably 😭😭😭 but i think he's def the type to keep trying UNTIL he gets it down 🤤😋 and just crafting the different earths btwn sunwoo and eric was just so much fun cuz i was trying to figure out what i wanted each universe to have and ksnfkdndkkd ANYWAYS . STAR LORD SUNWOO HAS ME REELING CUZ LIKE AKDNKDMD i NEEDED this man to be w the raccoon it just didn't feel right if he wasn't. like he was either gonna be nova or starlord, and i feel like the only other boy besides sunwoo who can do star lord justice is hyunjae, but he's already IRON MAN lol

OMG UR A WOOYOUNG STAN??? that actually feels so right 😭😭😭 wooyo be snatching up hearts ALL OVER THE PLACE lately 😭🤧 like damn, get it bro 🥂 but i totally agree, he's such a sweetheart and so funny and so talented and just sknfkendn mwah wanna give him a big smooch !

WHEW what a long recap/catch up reply 🤣 but anyways, hope ur doing well as always 😚 love u lots, my honey bunches of pollinated petals 💖

[lunarasphodel]

OH!

HELL YES. I’ve been waiting to talk about this thank you so much for giving me the opportunity!! <- said with the vibrant enthusiasm of a thousand suns

So, when I said this would be an essay I Meant it- here we go!!

 I’ll get into why I love the phrase so much in a minute, but for now imma explain where in the game it comes from and why it's significant (in my heart). The phrase “stars, stars, stars,” comes from Isabeau’s friendquest, unlocked in act 3, when he goes stargazing with Siffrin! The dialogue initially (in act 3) is “Stars, stars, stars, all around you. You inhale sharply.” and then, in act 4 it becomes “Stars, stars, stars, all around you. You want to crush them all.” The change being reflective of Siffrin’s ✨emotional/mental deterioration✨, as well as how he essentially feels… abandoned. By his faith, his home, and the life he knows but can’t remember. I’ll get into this more in a minute!

Part of the reason that I love the phrase itself is because of the repetition, I tend to really like sets of threes (as the human brain is inclined), and space is one of my special interests so I just find the word “stars” to be very aesthetically pleasing. One of the deeper reasons is that Isabeau’s friendquest was my first interaction with In Stars and Time, because the friend who recommended the game to me let me play it on her Switch! The scene as a whole has a special place in my heart just because it was my first impression of a game and characters that mean a lot to me as it is! (Isabeau specifically, I adore him!!)

Now that we've been over why I like the phrase, let's go over why I think it's textually significant! First we have to go over Siffrin and the Forgotten Country. So, we know a few important things about the Forgotten Country and its culture. I’m gonna bullet point these so it makes more sense:

-Wish Craft was popular/commonly used enough that the proper rituals were taught to children.

-Siffrin says, in the secret library, that an important part of the ritual is to repeat the wish three times, but it doesn’t have to be three, it should be however many times feels right. All this to say, repetition is important to Wish Craft rituals, and the faith as a whole.

-Another important aspect to the Forgotten Country’s faith is the Universe and the stars. 

For example, the orrery, the star charts, the fact that “stars” is a swear word (which indicates religious significance, such as how Odile says “Gems” or how people under Christianity will use “Jesus Christ” as a swear).

So while we don’t learn much about the Forgotten  Country, there is a lot that we can infer from Siffrin as a character. One of the things that stuck out to me most is their frequent use of repetition. They tend to do things in threes quite often, and I think they also sometimes use sets of five as well (because of their party/family having five members). I don’t have evidence for the latter, but the former is evident every time Siffrin interacts with Dormont's Change God Statue to get a blessing, and when they sharpen the keyknife (notably, Siffrin says “please be sharp” three times, and then Isabeau, Mirabelle, and Bonnie mimic him, making the phrase said 6x). Point being, Siffrin repeats things often, and most commonly does so in sets of three. Not just in happy moments, he also does the whole self deprecation thing and calls himself “stupid, stupid, stupid” in various points throughout the game. However, he never does this flippantly, only when there’s emotion behind his words, which indicates that there are definitely some strong emotions behind when he says it during Isa’s friend quest! Which- I mean of course there would be! He’s desperate to be seen, loved, wanted. And Isabeau does this in a way that ties in something that inherently means a lot to them! In this case it seems perfectly logical that, when looking up to the stars, Siffrin would repeat the name of what is essentially their saint.

In regards to the Act 4 addition of “you want to crush them all,” I just love that this simple line expresses so much. For example, Siffrin knows that their home faith is the Universe, the stars, but he can’t remember learning this. He can’t remember his home, but he can see the stars and the Universe and even the island. All around them is evidence that it existed, even if it’s just in the form of a splitting headache or a sore throat. Also, and I could be wrong here because the lines between acts sometimes blur together for me, Act 4 is where Siffrin begins to learn. Everything from Wish Craft, to his language, to details of rituals that they didn’t even know were foreign. All the while, Siffrin is forgetting parts of the new life he’s made, no doubt leading him to feel like he’s trading one for another. To Siffrin, it feels like they’re giving up important memories to the Universe, in order to regain something that was stolen from them. And it’s cruel, it is, for the Universe to do this to them. It’s plain as day that Siffrin deals with a lot, especially in act 4, because that’s… the whole idea of the game, isn’t it? So he has to deal with the secrets, the repetition, the ugly feelings of wanting but being unable to ask. All the while, the Universe looks on and laughs- at least that’s how Siffrin sees it. 

Overall it’s a beautiful representation of three things: Siffrin’s faith and rituals, his feelings toward Isa and... his whole situation, and their speech patterns as a whole. Isn’t it cool that so much can be inferred from so little?? 

also I have a tiny aside that I wanted to include but couldn't find a spot for: Humans naturally LOVE threes! They’re Everywhere!! Especially in fairytales, religion, and art. There’s something called a triptych, which is a set of three art pieces in conversation to one another that are displayed next to each other. All in all, threes are like crack to the human psyche <33

Anyways THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME RAMBLE ON ABOUT THIS!! I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and I hope it makes sense because I’m so excited to put the thoughts down that it very well could be incomprehensible :3

Has anyone prompted you yet

https://www.tumblr.com/delusional-cryptid/756805408476348416/more-collage-content-he-deserves-joy-methinks?source=share

- @siffwinning

:O!! Hi!! And No, not yet!! I’m not sure what you mean tho, could you elaborate mayhaps? (/genuine)

[seelestia]

Since requests are open and I am severely craving some angst- how about an unrequited love trope for scaramouche, aether (if u write for him), zhongli, and diluc :D

(u can make it so either the reader or the character is the one pining or not, but I'd love to see reader suffer ngl HAHAHA)

- respectfully, an anon 👹✨ (also I've been reading ur recent works and holee shit ur good, keep up the great work !!)

★彡 𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓.

❝𝐈𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈'𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐭.❞

SUMMARY. it's indeed a curse to fall for someone who will never feel the same.

CHARACTERS. scaramouche, aether, zhongli, diluc.

GENRE. angst, unrequited love, one-sided pining, hurt with no comfort.

CW. includes a few mocking insults from scara, some self-deprecating thoughts in zhongli and diluc's part.

THOUGHTS. yes, i do write for aether >:) and apologies if this request isn't what you expected since it turned out quite bite-sized... but nonetheless, thank you for the request, 👹✨ anon! (ㅅ˃ ⌑ ˂ )

✰ masterlist.

Foolishly falling for SCARAMOUCHE is like being told your feelings are no different than dust that cling to his clothes. Useless, an irritating bother, nothing more than a trivial problem he wishes is over and done with already.

The Balladeer barely even remembers your name, but there's something that intrigues him to the point he can't help but question what goes through your head.

Feelings for someone like him? He isn't the type of prince that people would fall for left and right, you know? Even if Scaramouche were, he would be a despicable one — and that is enough to either stir fear that causes people to flee from his direction or revere him further in the eyes of those who only glorify strength.

But where do you fit into that? Your feelings for him frustrate him more than he'd have liked to admit. And for that, Scaramouche concludes that you are simply the stupidest moron he's ever met.

Falling for someone who can never love you back? How pitiful, he almost wants to laugh at you.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

Foolishly falling for AETHER is the realization that he has one wish and one wish only; that is to reunite with his sister and depart from Teyvat. He tells you that every night with a twinkle of reminiscence in his eyes as the both of you sit by the bonfire whilst Paimon munches on a skewer nearby.

Of course, you have your own wish too but you can never tell it to anyone, especially not to him — because your wish is only a childish yearning for the very same traveler you've grown to adore.

But the contents of your heart are meant to be kept inside like a lock that has its key thrown into the sea. Whatever will happen if Aether knows of your feelings for him? Will they damage his perception of you and the bond you have created with him?

You're too scared to imagine, much less find out the actual answer. But you've settled on one conclusion and that, alone, is enough of a reason for you to lock your heart out and keep your mouth shut forever.

Aether's sister has always mattered the most to him, you know that all too well and you shall respect it.

Even if it comes at the expense of your heart that aches with love for him, then so be it.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

Foolishly falling for ZHONGLI is like admiring a precious pearl on display that you can't afford. Full of brilliance and only to be admired from afar, for it is too far out of reach to ever be yours. He is the pearl and you are nothing but a mere spectacle amongst the crowd, holding out your hands towards him longingly.

Compared to the reassurance in oneself that he exudes, the old saying's and wise poems that drip off of his lips like honey, you'd be almost nothing. To him, you're only a client of the Wangsheng Parlor who seems to favor his assistance unusually more than most.

Someone who merely pays for his time and assistance even if you don't need it, someone whom he has to accompany in courtesy of the Mora in your possession.

Perhaps, he might've thought of you as a kind listener to his musings at one point, but that is it.

Nothing more, nothing less.

As much as you wished differently.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

Foolishly falling for DILUC is like being a flower amidst many beds of others, hoping you'd be the one to get picked. It is more than pathetic, really; the way you'd suddenly straighten your posture, smile just a little bit exaggeratedly, and soften the tone of your voice — only for him to pass by without even sparing you a glance.

It stings even more when you glance to your sides, seeing a reflection of your actions in certain people whose gazes linger on Diluc for far too long. But you don't have the rights to be jealous because that's the similarity between you and them.

Fools in love wishing for a sliver of hope that perhaps, the one you so desire will look you in the eyes.

Who doesn't want him? Diluc has it all; the looks, the riches, the generosity but still, he is as cold and untouchable as ice.

Such a contrast to the Pyro Vision in his possession, but that only piques your interest further. You want to uncover his secrets, you want to talk to him, you want to know who he truly is as a person — but that is too far-fetched when he barely notices your existence, isn't it?

After all, you are only one of many. Why would Diluc ever stop to look at you, a mere flower amongst a garden of others?

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

© SEELESTIA, july 2022. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.

[drifloonz]

Hey bestie✨love your fanfics! May I humbly request a Glitchy Rex x insecure reader? Perhaps autistic too? If not thats cool ✨

im gunna answer this in a bulleted headcanon typa post, which is hopefully fine bc if i write One more fanfic, esp w glitchy i Will explode ( and yes i am still procrastinating on the one i have a draft of. i got two of my back teeth pulled out and am recovering so thats my excuse + its so long and too much writing for me to comprehend rn + I do not have many "new" ideas )

newayz, ofc ofc!! we love our autistic couple

glitchy red x insecure ( and autistic ) reader !

♡ guess who's also autistic. thats right babey its glitchy!!!!!!! he's the ADHDtism creature. along with a lot of other stuff. but rlly whatd u expect. he's a red.

♡ due to this, he'll happily listen in on your rambles or partake in activities that make you happy. you got special interests? he might not understand a word of any of it for some things, but he'll happily listen and intake the info and try to add to the conversation by asking questions. he likes your voice as its an extreme comfort of his, so your rambling is very nice.

♡ i like to imagine before he somehow gets out you twos day to day life when hes still inside of the cartridge is just turning it on and you idly rambling to him while he listens, gives input, and updates you on how he is over there. you are a v comforting presence to him and you give him a reason to want to leave.

♡ he himself would ramble so much abt pokemon to you. my mind is mentally metronoming glitchy hcs between "he would hate a lot of pokemon stuff" or "he would be so autistic abt pokemon" . prob changes depending on the time of day and what he's talking abt specifically, but he does like at least explaining or talking about his whole... living situation in the cartridge, along with pokemon and their stats and whats the best for certain gyms, and strats and stuff like that, along with really obscure facts. he's seen it all and he's seen a bunch of different players playstyles, so it's natural to him to have absorbed that kinda info and be interested in it. competitive mf...

he is literally this image.

♡ if you're ever self-deprecating around him or something of the sort, he's going to verbally attack you with compliments. moreso responding with like "What? That's stupid." and maybe following up with a compliment to the part of yourself you insulted, eg "Your face is the prettiest thing I've set eyes on. It's not ugly." he'll also be sure to kiss around that spot more often and compliment you more often and more casually.

♡ similarly, if anyone insults you intentionally or not he is on their ass, like a fucking rabid guard dog if he was present for when it happened. he'll be yelling at them, or quietly telling them off with like, a simple "Shut up." or something, depending on how bad it is. if you feel bad about it he'll once again try to reassure you that you're perfect the way you are to him and that whoever told you that was scum. he likes to be aggressive and make clever yet insulting quips since he doesn't have much of an outlet for his internal rage, and it also makes him act all cool so he sort of enjoys when somebody is being a dick because it just means he can make you watch him verbally destroy them. and he likes to impress you.

♡ if this happens but its like, prolonged harassment, he is literally going to doxx whoevers being a bitch towards you /hj. moreso, he's going to track them down and try to threaten them so badly that they don't do jack shit to you after that.

♡ i like to think glitchy is constantly moving some part of his body. he's pretty impatient, and will usually resort to thumping his foot quietly or drumming his fingers along a table. stuff like that. he will also often shove his hands in his pockets and play around with the fabric inside of it. give him a stressball, that shit will be popped so quickly. he also likes to idly throw something up in the air and catch it if hes reaallly bored. he usually does this w/ his pokeballs.

♡ this is good in a relationship if you like touch, cuz' glitchy will put his attention on you when hes bored or zoning out, and will instead often touch you or kiss you or talk to you. one of his favorite things is brushing his thumb over your hand, or running his hands through your hair or something.

♡ because you are probably pretty open with your interests to him, finding gifts for you comes pretty easy. he also just has a good natural sense for gift-giving, i'd think. like he subconsciously sees something and goes "oh, maybe you'd like that" in his head. don't ask how he gets these, he probably doesn't have money ( he manipulates his glitchy powers to duplicate the item like missingno, or just straight up teleports it to you/your home or something. likely both. )

♡ he really just thinks your the sweetest thing ever, and also you know a looot of stuff he doesn't. he's new in the real world, so watching you explain very specific things that happen in real life to him fascinates him, genuinely... its another reason why he loves your rambles. he could listen to you explain anything with a lovestruck expression ( ...which is constantly a resting neutral expression with a small smile sometimes, he's not super expressive unless hes mad. )

♡ if you're averse to certain foods or textures, he'll learn that quickly, since he does try to cook for you on occasion... maleeewife.. on first impression to most people that aren't you, he acts like he doesn't really care about you but he really really does - he's just not that expressive a lot of the time and he also is awkward with PDA.

♡ he himself probably gets overwhelmed with or icked out by a lot of food tbh so he eats pretty slowly and also has to gradually get used to certain foods with overwhelming flavors. he's used to literally not eating anything so this makes sense. its also the 'tism tho.

♡ he likes to cuddle while you do any activities you like. its comfy and he gets to see what ur doing. win/win.

♡ he's touchstarved but also hates getting touched suddenly. if you are the same he relates. due to this, early on in the relationship he'll instinctively flinch if you touch him w/o warning probably. but the further u get the more he follows you around like a lovesick puppy yearning for your touch

♡ overall he just loves u soooo sooo much.. you can say literally anything to him and he'll hum and nod and go "Uhhuh." with a small tiny little itty bitty smile on his face... this is where he feels safest. in your arms or holding you in his own while you just talk to him.

[thingsarenotgoinhwell]

✨byclair hcs!✨

the obvious will would’ve come to lucas’s game and give mike and dustin shit about not caring about lucas’s interests. because he knows what its like to feel ignored from s3

will would love drawing lucas can you blame him lucas is gorgeous and would doodle him on everything and lucas would keep them and tressure them forver

lucas would try to teach will to play basketball you cant tell me something like thing wouldnt happen

will cant drive for shit and lucas chauffeurs him everywhere✨

similar to lucas teaching will to play basketball will would teach lucas how to draw and they’d draw when they are stressed or just bored. lucas is super self deprecating and will never lets him make fun of himself

 will i think after a little bit would get comfortable and start being like sassy will would be the “oh my god your soooo annoying” and lucas would be the “but you looovvveee meeee” and will would roll his eyes and put his arm around lucas’s shoulder and smile and be like “your lucky your right” IDK I CAN SEE IT

lucas is the one who’d be super afraid of bugs and will would send them all to their deaths

they both love horror movie and will, will is a complete connoisseur and would never get scared and lucas would get scared at all the jumpscares and hold wills hand and will would just kinda laugh and roll his eyes smiling

lucas would be really like show offy like always wants to impress will or pick him or get him to laugh and when he succeeds and will laughs or blushes or something lucas feels like so fucking proud for no reason

they are the kings of forehead kisses and cheek kisses it is constant and dustin and max tease them relentlessly about it

LUCAS’S LETTERMANNNNNNN it is a rare sight to see will without it on and another rare sight to see lucas not being obsessed on how will looks in it its win win lucas is like so proud all the time that we wears it

lucas is also kinda proud to date will in general like everytime they have a positive interaction lucas is just internally going “letsss fuckkinggg goooooo”

so obviously they wrote letters to eachother while will was in california and its kinda blurry but im pretty sure lucas has his new haircut in wills painting and i hc that will was super nervous to like ask lucas to send a polaroid of himself but he did and he keep the picture on his dresser and when will asked lucas was super nervous to get a good picture and also kinda flustered about will asking but with max’s help they got a really nice picture

i hcs lucas love language as physical touch so lucas is always touching will hair or holding hands or the as i mentions forehead and cheek kisses

i think theyd argue alot about which male celebrities are hot like anytime they watch a movie they always talk about whos hot and who aint

so theyd obviously go on an art museum date that lucas would surprise will with and lucas would drive them while wills in charge of music and will is amazed by everything and would have just a wide eyed look the whole time and lucas is like staring admiring will in his element

also at the art museum lucas would try to be all conceptual and like say dumb smart sounding shit about all the paintings and impress him and also just make him laugh and will would laugh so much and like shove him and giggle and it would be fucking adorable.

soooo lucas would be super flirty and charming like really charming and hes smirk and smile so much at will. at first will would be kinda nervous and flustered like embarrassed but then he started play along saying shit like “i bet you say that to all you boyfriends😏” but then… he started to flirt back and lucas… was not expecting that and every fucking time will was flirty lucas would die he would stutter and blush like crazy he would totally short circuit

bro… i may like byclair more than i thought i tried to keep it short i swear😅

let me know if i should do a part 2 or recommend others ships or characters hcs are my favorite

just tagging some fellow byclairs

@braydenbylerblog @blueperiood @schnappled @duquesah @disasterblogsstuff @captinsteveharrington

[mayosmultiverse]

Take me Home.

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Mistakes and heartbreak were always a danger to Spencer's love life. But would one of them survive to tell its tale?

C.W: Angsty boi mixed with a roll of fluff, mentions of a murder (not in graphic detail), witnessing a murder (not in detail), mentions of verbal fighting, self deprecating thoughts, mentions of Maeve, angst with happy ending.

W.C: 4.5k

Masterlist

This is for @imagining-in-the-margins Reunion Trope challenge ! And speshal ✨ thanks to @vanessagib and @letarasstuff for helping lil' ol' moi with this story! (Don't mind me, insecurities got the best of me XD)

A huge mention to @all-tings-diego for being the lovely moon to my sun. Have something for you here 😉. Also for the beloved Nesquik.

A/N: I hope ya'll like this, I tried making it a little less wordy!! Key word, tried.

The beauty of change is often spoken fondly upon, bloomed upon the garden of lies that only serve the purpose to deceive the oblivious and unknowing. To inflict pain and heartbreak when it isn't needed by pushing a person towards their doom and destruction. The inevitability of being subjected to it makes the reality even more harsh; having no choice but to succumb to the game of fate.

Spencer never believed in fate, each and everything he faced in the entirety of his life was just a product of finely placed dominos—an illustration of how his actions and of those around him implemented to his past, present and future—which collapses into unnecessary helplessness.

That feeling of impending worthlessness when he handed his unknowing mother over to a mental institution when she clearly didn't want to. Cursing him out turned to clinging onto him, begging him not to leave her there with a bunch of suspicious strangers who'd do god knows what to her. Might've been a plot of karma, taking his mother's revenge for him for when the people he loved, left him, giving him a half hearted goodbye through just a clot of ink. But never a proper one. Leaving him to mourn a memory.

The change in his life was always tiring, a piece of his heart breaking, falling like a withering rose, each person, each event and each victim he failed to save, pushes the sensitive purity of the petal to collapse and fall into an abyss. Dark and never ending, with no way out nor any way to save himself.

For a while, he had his saving grace, in the form of his chosen family but each of those who he held close to his heart, left. With only a distant memory of them to keep him company. Just a few materialistic and shallow means of what once was reality is now anything but. And the people who chose to stay didn't fully accept him for who he was. All his interests were answered with an annoyed eye roll or them simply just leaving in the middle of the one sided conversation. They say time heals, and after over a decade he should be expecting it, but it never stopped hurting. Even if he was used to it.

The only time he truly felt at home was under the watchful and curious young eyes of his students, soaking in everything he had to say, even if most of them were just auditing. For once in his life, he felt like he was making a change. That he was a part of something big, even though if it was just temporary. Outside of the violence and brutality of his job, where fighting the demons of the society was an everyday task but it never made anyone safe, for once they were caught, two more would take their place.

For him, teaching was a change of pace. When everything around him went haywire, all from him being bullied for being himself to being falsely arrested and having lost who he once was just for the sake of his survival. He now had stability and control; with a standard job with a fixed time and a choice of what to teach. It was as if his luck changed, after all this time.

After all this heartbreak. It seemed his life was pacing towards happiness. Because through a stroke of luck he found someone to hold, to love. And who would love and support him unconditionally with his countless flaws.

He could remember the day as if it was yesterday. He was at the library, picking and choosing from the seemingly endless supply of books. He'd always visit the library at least once, the mixed colour of various shades of brown provided him a wave of comfort. The only place he could succumb into his mind, to travel everywhere just through a flip of a page, when his college folks picked on him for being a frail and young boy. Acceptance and love was all he wanted, all he longed for, yet whenever a token of friendship was presented to him the act of deceit followed in the form of being tied to a pole with the hope of friendship all gone, just bitter memories of them keeping him company. All alone with no one helping him. In the cold and dark till cries of the night took pity on him.

Following his ritual, of choosing a book he wanted to read, going to his favourite comfy red couch located in a relatively isolated corner, where he could be. Alone. With his thoughts running his mind as he quickly cruised through his book. It was "Wuthering Heights" this time around, acting as a silent lament to when his mother would read it to him. He silently caressed the smooth cover of the book as he went towards his self proclaimed designated seat. It was as if his body knew where to go—purely on muscle memory—twisting and turning through the maze like library, only to find out that his favourite spot seemed to be occupied. A woman to be more specific. Laying on the couch with her legs rocking from the ends of it as she seemingly enjoyed her book.

He awkwardly shifted in his spot, his eyes lingering at his desired seating, then walked to move from there without wanting to disturb the beauty that inhabited that place. But of course, these things never go his way, her eyes snapped towards him in silent alarm. Just as he was about to leave her alone, a wave of recognition flickered through her eyes. As a soft smile graced her face.

"Dr.Reid, Right?" She nodded at him, though phrased as a question, he knew that it was a matter of fact. By the looks of her, she looked young. Probably in her late 20's or early 30's. Either here for educational purposes or a teaching position. "The Criminology Professor." A statement this time.

She seemed like a laid back person, not caring of what people think of her judging by her position on the couch. But by the looks of her attire—semi professional but comfortable—she does care about the impression she makes. Playful yet bordering proper. And by the looks of the worn out copy of 'Dead Man Do Tell Tales' she might be interested in Forensic Anthropology. Before he could offer her a response, she continued to introduce herself. The Professor for the Anthropology unit.

Though with his experience of working as a profiler, and hunting serial killers for a huge chunk of his life. Convincing them is a trial that is similar to a ticking bomb, triggered and to be exploded at any moment. Yet he's still as awkward as he was when he entered the premises of the BAU, introducing himself to the intimidating strangers with a slight wave of hand. So he did what he always did when he was nervous. His safe ground. His facts.

"Did you know, a forensic anthropologist can estimate the age, sex, ancestry, and stature of human remains, as well as estimate the time since death and interpret trauma to the skeleton. Which also allows them to determine if the damage to the bone was caused before or after the death, respectfully, either post or anti mort—which you would, of course know judging by the book" He waved his hand towards the battered book she was holding. A look of amusement and excitement flashed on her face.

"Talking about books, I see you're reading Wuthering Heights, A literary classic." She gestured to his book that he fidgeted against. Sort of acting as a buffer for him, as another calming method.

"You have read it?" He tilted his head in question, his gaze now shifting towards her face to her legs that were rhythmically rocking. Back and forth.

"If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated. I'm sure something about the universe was mentioned, my dumbass brain doesn't remember it.” She gave a pregnant pause, to remember what she had forgotten. Eventually and inevitably giving up with a shrug.

"Usually a cup of coffee works like a charm" He quipped back, his lips stretching into his signature smile. Her eyes widened in surprise as she processed what he said. It was at that moment he realized what he had said. He held is his breathe until she cracked a smile.

"Smooth. I know a great coffee place" She unraveled herself from the comfortable red couch and led the both of them towards a possibility of a sweet life.

That was it. That was the moment he met his future. That was the moment when his future was writing itself to the better. After drowning in the deep and dark depth of the sea for so long, desperately trying to find something to cling onto, he finally got a breath of fresh air, found through a quirky and outgoing professor who loved the classics of literature as much as him.

But as unfortunate as Spencer's life was, everything good eventually comes to an end, it's only just a matter of time. It was as if time went slowly when he got a call from her. It was nearly midnight and he was at work trying to finish as much paperwork as he could complete so that he could take the weekend off. Sipping on his sweet coffee to stop him from dozing off, but what worked well was an unprompted call from his girlfriend. He answered it with a grin, expecting nothing of it. How could he have known that that one call would change his life. The feeling of peace he felt whenever he was with her quicky transformed into terror.

"Spencer he- there was so much blood-" She seemed delirious, in shock. But the choppy words she managed to spew out told a horrendous tale of someone bleeding out. He wished it wasn't her, it wasn't his love that was hurt, bleeding out all alone. Clenching his bag, he rolled his tongue through his lips in an attempt to clear his racing mind.

"Moon- Mooney, breathe. Tell me where you are?" But the only reply he got was her huffing, taking in quick short breathes, if any of this continued she might just pass out, out in an unknown place, completely unsafe. He'd have to work fast to get her whereabouts. Bouncing his legs turned to pacing when her silence prolonged.

"Mooney, Are you there?" Her safety was a priority for him. He didn’t want to lose another girlfriend, when there was a chance he could save her. He didn’t want the same thing happening to his Moon, that happened to Maeve.

"I think he's following me- he saw me run. Spencer, I'm scared. He has a gun!" That wasn't what he expected. Alarms blared in his head as he ran his hand though his hair. Panic rose to his throat, this was a life and death situation. Clenching his teeth, he repeated his question inquiring about her whereabouts. Thankfully this time she was conscious enough to tell him where she was. Now he just had to work fast enough to get to her. Grabbing his gun and badge, he made a run for the stairs, making sure that his girlfriend was still on the phone. Or tried to. His beloved unit chief was blocking his way.

'Oh for fuck sakes' he didn't really have time for this, literally. Clenching and unclenching his jaw, he finally met Prentiss's eyes. Her eyes were fixed on him, clearly glimmering with worry and concern, she must’ve seen him pace and came to check on him. Crossing her arms, she kept her gaze trained on him. She wanted answers.

"Reid, everything alright?" Was everything alright? No. Nothing was alright. Nothing was ever alright. But he forced himself to shake his head. He was worried, and scared. All he wanted was his loved ones to be safe and sound. Was that a hard wished to come true? Considering his track record, apparently so.

"It's my girlfriend, she's in trouble!" He mumbled out, as if saying it aloud would make it even more real.

Something flashed through Emily's eyes, a feeling of fear grew, which she covered. Like hell would she allow something to happen to her family. Grabbing her car keys, she marched towards the elevator like a woman on a mission. Until she realized that Spencer wasn't following her, just staring at her like a hurt puppy.

"Come on Reid, now's not the time to go slow on me." Instead of bickering with her to change her mind, he decided that it'd be logical for Emily to drive while his mind was on an overdrive, sifting through countless things that might happen to his girlfriend.

When the duo reached to their destination, Spencer instantly ran out of the car, not waiting for it to stop. Completely disregarding Emily's cries of protest. He just wanted to know his love was alright. Passing through a seemingly endless seam of maze, he finally saw her. She was curled into a ball, with her head hidden between her legs. He called out her name which caused her to jump, she must’ve been so scared. The sheer fear and panic on her face softened the moment she saw Spencer. Opening her arms, she silently asked for a hug, which he instantly gave. Rocking her against his body like a mother would to calm her child all while whispering calming words and unsaid promises.

His Moon was completely silent, other than the occasional sniffs. The only time she spoke was when they decided to take her to her own apartment to which she responded with a hysterical 'No!'. The car ride to Spencer's house was tense to say the least. He was sitting in the back with his girl. Trying to get an answer out of her, but all she did was look out the window. Her gaze jumping about from the sights that passed her yet it had no emotion in it.

His ears were ringing, he couldn’t think straight. After the group of three reached to Spencer's apartment, with some convincing, they managed to get the tale of endless horror she felt and faced, the death she'd seen and most importantly the perpetrator. The cold yet thrilled eyes that had no mercy as he ran after her like he was a predator and she, the prey.

Emily glanced at Spencer and then to the sweet person she had gotten the pleasure to befriend, knowing what had to be done. She wouldn’t be safe here, not with a psychotic killer on the loose who completely knew her identity. Even if Spencer decided to try and help his girlfriend, the section chief won’t allow an asset to be bound in something they'd think isn't as worthwhile. It was at times like these that Emily really hated her position as unit chief, it would be hard for her to break rules without having her team to face the consequences. She also knew that her suggestion would be reflected with copious amounts of disagreement from her friend.

“Reid, can we talk?” Emily glanced at Spencer’s girlfriend, she didn’t want the already fragile girl to be even more stressed, “in private.” Nodding her head towards the door to emphasise her point.

“Can't it wait?” He really didn’t want to leave his girlfriend at a time like this. But one look at Emily’s grave expression gave him the answer. Begrudgingly he left the room to listen to what she had to say.

It felt as if he had it all in one moment and lost her in the next, just as the word 'Witsec' ran out of Emily's mouth. Why did everything fall for him, and for the people he loved? JJ was forced to leave the Pentagon, Emily died, Hotch left and now his girlfriend had to leave. He couldn’t have that. He couldn’t have another person he cared so deeply about to leave. 

The battle of whispers turned to arguing, both not backing down from their stance. Each of them trying to make the other see from their perspective. The raised voices caught her attention, she could tell what they were talking about. A choice, though a choice seemed like an exaggeration, on sending her to Witsec because of what she had witnessed. Fidgeting with her necklace—a gift Spencer gave her—she had made a decision.

“I’ll go” A soft but determined voice called out. Even her voice lacked its usual cheeriness. Her decision led to another uproar, wasn't it her choice to keep her family safe. Her decision to make until it was safe for her to come back home.

"I can't let you go, not like this!" At this point the unshed tears travelled freely on his cheek. He wanted to help her. To keep her safe from the monsters that hid in the deception of man. To protect her from the man she saw today. Yet again, his protests went unanswered. Batted over the moment his love made her decision. Why weren't they listening to him? All he wanted was his family to never part from him or each other.

She took a step closer to him, grasping his hand into her cold one. Squeezing it gently to calm him down, at least partially. Her touch always did work wonders, but for now it just increased the panic Spencer felt. Locking eyes with hers he could see it clearly, she had given up. She was tired, scared and worried. Bile rose in his throat, this was starting to feel like a goodbye now.

"Don't" His voice cracked, as he haphazardly shook his head. He wasn't ready for this. After Maeve, Max, hell even Cat, he didn’t want to lose her. He didn’t want to have another name on that never ending list of heartbreak.

But there was no use of fighting about it further, as much as it irked him, but she had made her decision. He really loved her stubbornness but not when he was at the receiving end of it. So for now, he'd support her through her decision. Valuing her safety over her being, perhaps, miles away from him. He had to let her go for the time being. And until then he'd fight and search every nook and cranny for that man who decided to steal her from him. No matter how long it would take.

Five months, five long months had passed since she had witnessed something that lived in her nightmares. That dictated her life to the point that the life she's living wasn't her own. Long gone was the Professor of the Anthropology unit, the former medical examiner. Now she was Vanessa Hart, an ordinary woman with a blue collar job as a server at a small coffee shop.

She felt miserable. She had lost everything she held valuable. Her job, Spencer, and her life. They say time makes the heart grow fonder, but it was pure torture. The only thing keeping her intact was her necklace, the only piece she had of the man she loves. She usually found herself longing to hear his voice, a song that hadn’t sung for her in a while. The way his voice raised its lilt when he was talking about something that interested him while his hands moving around expressing his excitement. How he narrowed his eyes when he'd be trying to figure something out. And most of all, she missed how he used to call her Mooney.

For the past 5 months, she'd have to greet customers with a smile, when she was dying inside as all the pieces that made her, her were chipping away. She wasn't herself. She was Vanessa. And will be until her family get's her out of this hell hole. Dealing with rude people when she had done nothing wrong, they lacked basic human decency.

There were times everything got too much and she just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry into the arms that seemed like a distant memory. But she had no one, no one she could rant to or lean over. She had a friend, of course. Rebecca, the twenty one year old who was juggling university and a job. She was cheery and outgoing, reminding her of who she used to be. However, there was no one who knew what she was going through, other than the agency who ran weekly checks on her wellbeing.

Today, was like any other day. Like clockwork, she'd leave for her job at nine in the morning with a smile plastered on her face. Nothing to show that she was drowning in the persona that was created for her. And then at five in the afternoon she'd start wrapping things up to leave, to go back to her ratty old apartment.

"Oof, woman, you've got bad luck coming at ya" Oh great, more bad luck, thank you for the warning Rebecca but the shark was way too near for her to run, Aka Mean Marge, the manager. Damn she was really looking forward to clocking out for the day. But no, she was asked to stay. Overtime without extra pay. Well now she'd have to cancel her plans to drinking cheap wine all alone until she could forget about the day. Or her life.

"Fan-fucking-tastic" She grumbled, Rebecca hid her smile as she continued to wipe the counter.

"Language" Rebecca gently chided. Is she for real now? Rebecca was younger than her! She's allowed to cuss. She's a grown woman damn it! Let her drown in her self pity with her trusty companion—curse words.

"Oh shut– hush! They're just jargons of the daring." Of fuc- of course Rebecca's glare works wonders, She can't even cuss in her own thoughts.

"Keep your jargons related to coffee, not crude crusty cusses." Crusty what? She takes it back. She was nothing like Rebecca in her past. Rolling her eyes, she goes back to work. Grumbling under her breath each time when Rebecca is in her line of sight. She might act it, but she wasn't annoyed or irritated by Becca'. Quite frankly, the young girl gave her a way out from her life. A ray of sunshine in her storm. But she'll never tell the twenty one year old, simply because there's no fun in that.

In the course of the rest of their shift, The two girls conversed and completed their work. Everything was going smooth, no rude customer or anything, all until closing time. The bell rung signalling that a customer entered the coffee shop. Oh hell no, she was too tired for this shit. She ducked under the counter, dodging the questioning stare from Rebecca.

"Hello there, what would you like to order today?" she heard Rebecca's cheery voice greet whoever thought it'd be an appropriate time to get coffee at closing time. She'd have continued her inner rant if it wasn't for the familiar voice that replied.

"Hi! I'd like to order a-" No, it couldn’t be. Was it really him? She slowly came out of her hiding place to see if it was really true. If her boyfriend had finely come to take her home.

"Spencer" she said breathlessly, taking all of him in, he looked the same. Though his hair grew out a bit, giving it more of a wild look, but he looks perfect as ever. His eyes snapped towards her, widening at the sight before him.

Usually in movies this was the time they'd run to each other and share a kiss. Unfortunately for her, her body stopped working. She didn't, no, she couldn’t move. So she just stood where she was with happy tears passing down her cheeks. It was not until someone cleared their throat, did she break from her trance and ran towards her boyfriends waiting arms.

Safe, that was the first feeling she felt when her love wrapped his arms around her. After months of looking over her shoulder, to see if she was being followed or not, she could finally relax. Relax at the life she could live without the constant paranoia, and without the pain in the ass coffee shop. Fully merged in the tranquility and peace his arms provided, until a realization washed over here like ice cold water.

"Wait, Spence, is he?" Pulling away from him and his lingering touch to meet his eyes. His eyes glassy, matching hers as he nodded in confirmation. He couldn’t contain his smile nor his feelings when he grabbed her face and kissed her. She was finally going home.

"Someone gonna tell me what the frick frack snick snack is going on here?" Their celebratory kiss was cut short by Rebecca's question. Oh yea, she forgot there was someone else with them. The reunited couple broke apart, though not fully, Spencer's hand took its place on her waist keeping her close.

"It's a long ass story with a lot of cream and salty donuts. And by cream, I mean crime and by salty donuts I mean tears. Agressive and snot everywhere." Spencer shook his head affectionately at his moon, even after all this time her sense of humour was still intact.

"Wait, what?"

"What she means to say is, she saw something she shouldn't have and had to be sent away for her own safety" He corrected the vague and incriminating tale his girlfriend was telling. One day she'll really get into trouble for that.

"I've been doing a lot of that stuff lately" Rebecca muttered, a slight blush tinted her face in embarrassment as she remembered what she witnessed just a few moments before.

As happy that moment was for her, she'd never thought about what she'd leave when she returns to her home. To be very honest, she had lost all hope that she would even return. But as she thought about it she would really miss Rebecca and her odd pet peeve with cuss words. She's really starting to hate this. Constantly going away, leaving people who she learned to love and care about. Tearful goodbyes and promises were shared between the two friends. Just as the duo exited the coffee shop. To leave this life behind, she paused.

"Hey, Becca. If Mean Marge ever gets too much, hit me up. I will irritate the shit out of her! Bitch will have nothing on me!" Rebecca cracked a smile, though it seemed bittersweet. One last hug was shared between them before the couple left. Hand in hand, ready for wherever their life might lead them.

In the end, life might be a series of mistakes waiting to be triggered. To fall and weep for the losses it caused in collateral. But in the eyes of the future they are also a form of art. Each piece, as painful as it is, creates a path. A path that could lead to a better life.

🎶 Take me Home when it's all over 🎶

[musette22]

Happy Friday! ✨🌻🥳️🌷

I was just sitting here at my desk before lunch, and I saw you in my notes and in posts I have queued up and I just was overcome by how much I enjoy seeing your username float across my dash.

Then I started thinking about Steve Rogers and how much I love him for the decade-ish we got to spend with him, and also thankful for how he lives on in fandom, in fanfic and thrives so we haven't really lost him. I wanted to ask if you have three favorite things about Steve that you'd like to share with us?

You make me really happy, and I hope you have some lovely weekend plans ahead of you ✨

TEJ, you beautiful angel!!! 🥺💖 First of all,

HAPPY FRIDAYYY💕🥰🥳️

And second of all, WHY are you so sweet? HOW? 🥺 This message genuinely made me tear up a little because I'm just so touched that my presence on your dash and in your notes means anything at all to you, let alone that you enjoy seeing me and that I make you happy 😭 That's just so wonderful to hear, I can't even tell you. Especially coming from you, who I adore and admire so much in return!!! ✨✨ Sorry to make this all sappy lol but this message really meant a lot. I've been saving it for last, so I'm heading to bed after this, but yeah, just... thank you for being so sweet and kind and thoughtful ❤️✨

And also, thank you for loving Steve too, and for asking me about him, because GOD I love him so damn much? He and Bucky literally are my favourite characters ever, and I can't believe how much they've come to mean to me. I could talk about Steve forever and pretty much everything about him is my favourite thing, but let me see if I can think of three things I love about Steven Grant Rogers! 🥰

Ok, thing number 1. I love how GOOD Steve is. He's a genuinely good man who I'd trust with my life, with the fate of the world even, because you just know he'll never stop standing up for what's right, never stop helping people in need and doing the right thing. Steve's internal moral compass is strong, and he's steadfast and incorruptible, and in this world that is pretty rare and sorely needed. I just feel safe with him, you know? He kind of feels like an anchor and a true north and the sun all at once, and I love love love him for that.

Having said all that, I also love him because he's a little shit. He's got a great and underrated sense of humor, witty but dry, and while he takes himself seriously when he needs to (though he's never self-important about it) he's also self-deprecating (sometimes to a fault) and is absolutely able to laugh at himself too. And you just know that he loves good-naturedly trolling his friends (you know that swear jar headcanon? that's 1000% Steve) and is always up for a pulling a good prank. He and Bucky got into so much trouble together back in the day, I just know it <3

And thirdly (but definitely not lastly, there are so many more things!), I love how Steve loves. He just cares so much. About good people who deserve better, about making the world a better, more peaceful place, about protecting the beauty in the world. Steve is for a large part the person he is because of Sarah Rogers, and he loves his mother so, so much. I'll be forever mad that their relationship was so neglected in the MCU. Steve also fiercely loves his friends, like the Howlies and the Avengers, and he'd do almost anything to help and protect them when it came down to it, because he cares. He's incapable of not caring and I think that's beautiful.

But most of all (and this is more of an extension of the previous point but also kind of deserves to be its own point), I love how Steve loves Bucky. Bucky is the most important person in Steve's life. His best friend, his partner (both in crime and in life), his lover, his one and only. Soulmates, if you will, because Bucky is a perfect match for Steve in every way. Just as good, just as kind and incorruptible, just as caring - he just goes about some things in a slightly different way, which helps to ground and balance Steve and keeps him from losing himself completely in his noble but sometimes idealistic pursuits. And even when Bucky is seemingly lost, not remembering who he used to be and literally trying to kill Steve, Steve never considers giving up on him. He'd rather die than give up on Bucky, that's just a fact of life. Their love feels so certain and steadfast and unshakable and eternal, and that gives me so much peace and joy and comfort on a daily basis, you know? So yeah, I love Steve for the way he loves and cares, and particularly for the way he loves Bucky ❤️

So sorry to ramble on like this, I did warn you 😭 Thank you so much again for your message and this question, sweetheart. I hope you have had a wonderful Friday night, and that the weekend ahead is full of fun and relaxing things for you! Love youuuuuuuuuu 😘🌷

[snackhobi]

you’d thought yourself content in your loneliness and accepted your place in the world. then hoseok—holding the power of the sun in his hands and his smile—stepped into your life.

pairing: hoseok x reader / word count: 2.6k / genre + rating: sfw, magic!au, just a lot of fluff really 🥰

warnings/etc: self deprecating talk + discussions of loneliness and inadequacy towards the beginning but that’s it :)

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @morndas​!! 💕 I adore you!! thank you for beta reading my fics and for being such a wonderful person, I am SO GRATEFUL to have you in my life!! (and thank you to the lovely @joyfulhopelox​​ for beta reading this for me when I yelled out for help at the last minute! ✨)

The thing is—

The thing is.

All your experience of love so far has left you aching. It’s left you feeling empty at the end of it; it’s taken and taken and you’ve given and given and it’s left you lonely.

Loving is hard. It’s hard, and it’s frightening. The thing with love is you're simultaneously in the safest place you can be and at your most vulnerable—because you're cracking yourself open and saying ‘look, this is me’. Because you’re trusting someone to not flinch away from all the twisted, frayed ends of your soul crammed messily inside you. You’re safe with them, because you love them, but you’re also vulnerable because you love them and you care about their thoughts the most, which is why it’s so hard.

You should be safe, anyway. Love should be a place of caring, of affection, of warm hands and soft words and gentle touches—not a space to put the pieces of your broken heart and soured dreams, a hollow echo of what you’d always hoped for—

But you’d tried not to think about it.

(Tried to move on from the people who hurt you.)

Tried, instead, to focus on all the shining stars in your life, the points of joy—poured those handfuls of happiness into the world around you, filling the cracks and holes, shaping your life into one you’d always wanted. One that was worth celebrating, even with its heartaches, with its pain.

(Even with its wild, seemingly endless loneliness.)

You grew. You grew and you learned and you grabbed hold of life with two hands, struggled onwards and upwards, setting your sights on the future and working towards it. And you succeeded. It took time, but you succeeded. You grew into your wisdom and power and magic with all the tenacity of a weed burrowing into the pavement; bloomed as beautiful as a wildflower in the concrete. You found your place, your niche, and you scraped together what you had until you finally found somewhere you could call your own. Somewhere you could call home.

You took your new cottage and suffused it with you. Surrounded yourself with the things you loved—scented candles and small knick-knacks and well thumbed story books, poetry, trinkets, rocks, gifts from others and gifts to yourself, homely and comfortable, superfluous but also necessary (two mushroom shaped shakers, pepper and salt; tin mugs with foxes dancing across their patterns; a teapot shaped like a frog). You planted lavender at the front door, hydrangeas at the back door, coaxed wisteria up the trellis, watched your cherry tree bloom in the spring and shake its pink blossoms across the pond, scattering petals across the water, listened to the throaty singing of the frogs in the cool darkness of twilight. You stoked the fire in the oven, filled the kitchen with the warmth and the sweet smell of your baking, breads and tarts and pies; boiled jams and soups and stews over the hob, filling foods for yourself and your friends, made all the more for sharing. You would sing quietly to yourself, murmured melodies and loud arpeggios as you trailed your fingers across the spines of your books, all your shelves full to the brim. 

Magic flowed out of you, peony petals and candyfloss and blush. Turned the air soft with it; grey rose, silver dust and pink glow. It took time, and patience, although loneliness still lingered—you were reminded of it each morning as you brewed enough tea for just one cup, each night as you lay alone in bed—but soon the cottage became your sanctuary, for all that it felt like there was some small emptiness hidden around each corner. Something you could ignore, mostly, could forget about—until you caught it out of the corner of your eye, ever-present, sneaking up on you when you least expected it.

(But you were used to that, after all. Used to pretending that it wasn’t there. You would shut your eyes to its existence until the lonely hours of the night, where all your daydreams would overflow into the cool dark of your room. Every love song and poem you’d ever read or composed in your own mind would unspool from inside your chest like so many untethered red threads. It’s so much harder to hide from yourself in the darkness.)

You placed a sign above your door, swinging in the breeze; decorated it with your own hands, chose the silver moon to represent this place and painted its name in cursive: Lullaby.

And you made Lullaby a place of comfort, a cradle song to keep people safe into the night. Not just a sanctuary for yourself, but for others too. As long as you can keep others happy then you’re happy. That’s what you’d always told yourself, told yourself that the quiet dreams you held close to your chest could wait, that your unattainable desires could be shoved down, deep-deep-deep down. You’re a Sage, after all, someone who’s there to hold a hand out to those who need it. To offer your wisdom to those who ask for it, to be a support to the people around you; it’s who you are, to your very bone, every shimmering facet of your magic humming with that truth.

(You’re not the main character in any story, not the shining star in the sky, bold and blazing and bright. You’re a side character, a set piece, there to make people laugh, to bring them calm. You’re fine with it, you are, you swear you are, but—sometimes you wished you were more.)

But then one day your front door had opened, bringing in the smell of summer and the explosion of life outside, slanting rays of sunlight cast across the room—silhouetting the figure in the doorway, someone new and unfamiliar, someone who shone as wildly as the midday sun in the wide blue sky above. Someone with a gleaming smile, polite but joyful; someone with dark eyes that seemed to glow gold in the sunshine, haloing his brown hair and turning streaks of blond into honey in its light; someone who politely asked if he could speak to you, to ask for your wisdom—

“I’m Hoseok,” he’d said, “and I’m looking for the sage?”

“That’s me,” you’d replied, your voice a little high around the sudden racing of your heart.

And his smile had spread even further into something genuinely pleased, his warm eyes crinkling. “I was wondering if you could offer me some help.”

—and something nestled deep in your chest, a little spray of starshine you’d thought faded had quietly flared to life, and your heart had said:

Oh.

At first you’d tried not to think about his beautiful hands with his delicate fingers, the dimples of his cheeks, the bright of his eyes. Tried to keep your composure, to reel yourself in, make yourself small. To be a guiding voice to someone who was asking for your help, rather than reaching out, unfurling from your place of comfort to try and touch something you wanted when you’d thought you’d never feel this way again.

And as time went on you told yourself that you were content with friendship. Because you were, felt more than blessed to have Hoseok in your life in any capacity, even if that aching hunger in your soul was gnawing at your ribcage, wanting to be fed. Starving for it. But you were used to being hungry. Used to compartmentalising that hunger into something small, used to carving it out of your chest and hiding it away under your tongue, unspoken and unseen.

But sometimes things just happen. Sometimes flowers burst from the dirt even without a caring hand to coax them forth; sometimes different trees grow intertwined; sometimes two people find their paths crossing and discover that their edges meet perfectly, two puzzle pieces slotting into place.

Hoseok glows. Metaphorically, bursting to the brim with energy and determination and unwavering focus, but also literally. The sun’s magic fills him, spills from his finger tips, liquid gold; the edge of a crashing wave caught in the dawn’s rays, the pollen dusted in the heart of blooming flowers. He’s so bright you fear you might be blinded by it if he weren’t so gentle; so bright you fear you might be burned by it if he weren’t so soft.

It surprises you, still, that he could ever need your support. That this golden boy ever came here in the first place, hunted down Lullaby and the sage there, in this small cottage with pink and yellow and red roses growing over the fences, with strawberries and blackberries hanging sweet and fat and heavy on their brambles outside. 

You never thought you’d see him moving around your garden, through your flowers and past your herbs; see him crouching down to watch the bees and sing to the birds just like you do, serenading the fat pigeons and tiny sparrows and sleek blackbirds. The plants in your garden turn their faces towards him, chasing the sun’s nurturing light, and you don’t blame them (you do the same, after all). During the night, he stands under the cherry tree, watches how the water turns from its mirror sheen to ever-growing ripples as a frog disturbs the surface; he shuts his eyes and tilts his head back, inhaling the night air and moon and stars while you drink every inch of him in.

You’d shared your space in the past, with friends you loved dearly, but found that it had worn away at you—so you’d thought yourself better off alone. You’d found Lullaby and thought yourself content in this soft space, this quiet place. But then Hoseok had burst into your life like the sweetness of honey spreading on your tongue and… he hadn’t left.

He’d given you hope, even in the early stages when you tiptoed around this thing that had threatened to burst free inside you, the gossamer thin wings of some newborn thing trying to take flight after being trapped in a cocoon for so long—he hadn’t done anything except be himself, palms upturned not in supplication but in a motion of giving. He hadn’t asked you to be brave but you took the leap anyway, took a step out from under the comfort of shade into the heat of the sun.

He’d made you want to give love a chance again. He’d made you feel strong enough to be weak, to let him in and see the parts of you you’d kept hidden to keep yourself (and your heart) safe.

He’d seen you, and he’d seen you, and he’d chosen to stay. 

No one ever told you that love could be like this.

No one told you that love could be easy. 

No one told you that love would feel like a sun dappled room, golden light spilling over white, mellowing and soft, every sharp angle turned into easing lines of warmth. That love would feel like walking through the open door of someone’s heart into a space that was waiting for you there. That the space was made for you and you alone, that it would have been made on purpose, that someone would have seen you and seen you, inside and out, and chosen to make that space for you. That they would carve out room for you in their chest, invited you in, slot you in so easily between their lungs and heart. 

No one told you that you wouldn’t have to make yourself small for love. That you could be loud, that you could talk and talk, that you could be you, with all your flaws, and still be infinitely lovely and wonderful despite them. In spite of them. Because of them. 

No one told you of the joy you’d feel as someone mixed their books with yours, shelves a menagerie of stories and poems and spellbooks that the two of you share. No one could have described the sheer elation of meeting someone who didn’t tire you out, who invigorated you just by being there, who made you want to be the best version of yourself and who helped you by being at your side.

(You don���t think you could describe it even if you tried. Don’t think that you could line the words up on your tongue in a way that made sense, only know that you feel everything so much your chest threatens to crack open with the rising swell of it, rejoicing in the intimacy of existing at the same time as someone who wants to tend to that love with as much gentleness as you do.)

The question Hoseok had come to ask you that day—the struggle he was having, something he’d been trying to put to rest—had been a deceptively simple one, on the surface. Struggling with incantations, with twisting his magic into different and unusual shapes; it had run deeper than that, deeper than a tangled invocation or misdrawn sigil. Hoseok was a powerful mage but something was off. 

There’s something missing, he’d said, I just don’t know what it is.

But there was a reason you were a sage, after all. You were good at helping people organise their thoughts and solve their issues, even if your own fell by the wayside.

We’ll find it, Hoseok, you’d promised. Let’s work together to figure out what it is.

You just hadn’t expected he’d help you with your struggles, too.

(Hadn’t expected that the thing he’d been missing in the centre of his magic, the empty space in the very core of its heart, had been you.)

It still surprises you, sometimes, that Hoseok has stayed.

It still surprises you when you wake up, slow and unrushed and gentle, and the bed isn’t empty. Hoseok is all loose limbed, sprawled across you, holding you close. It takes time for you to take in your surroundings and breathe in the scent of your sheets and clothes and Hoseok, who smells like orange and grapefruit; cedar and patchouli, bright and sharp with a deep undercurrent. (How fitting, you think, for this shining boy who has so much inside, so much depth wrapped up in a beaming smile and warm brown eyes.)

The sun is rising outside. And here, inside this home you’ve built, you’re wrapped up in its arms, your very own golden hour. 

It’s comforting, the smell and sensation, Hoseok wrapped around you in so many ways. Even when he’s asleep he glows faintly, a night light of shimmering magic. You watch him as he slumbers, all your plans for today at the very back of your mind—the bourbon and brown sugar peach pie you’re going to bake, the newly scribed spells someone had sent you to read over, the watering of your plants, the filling of your bird feeders; all of the things clamouring for your attention fall silent as you lie next to the man you’ve fallen in love with and just let yourself bask in it all.

He wakes up leisurely, lashes fluttering as he rises from the realm of dreams into the real world. The second his eyes open, as unfocused and swollen from sleep as they are, they fix unwaveringly on your face.

“Hi,” you murmur, as quiet as the ocean’s waves lapping at the rolling shore.

“Hi,” he smiles back, still soft from sleep, a lovely smile, your lovely Hoseok. “Good morning.”

For now there’s nothing else to worry about.  No worrying about what the rest of the day holds. No aching and yearning, emptiness eating away inside you; he’s here, he’s here, and he’s here to stay. There’s nothing else to think about.

Just you, and him, and the two of you, together—still half asleep, and stuffed full of sunlight, and magic, and love.

taglist:  @beyoncesdragon​ @vensulove​

[mysticmercurial]

🔥Mini Hot Take: Libras🔥

This is my first public astrodump

Take what resonates & leave what doesnt. I love new perspectives so feel free to comment ✨

Contrary to popular belief, Libras dont like everyone, they know how to coexist without being rude or blatantly hostile. Like their neighbor, Scorpio, you can tell A LOT by a Libras face

Libras tend to have a system in their heads that categorize their friends according to what side of themselves comes out around said friend

Libras flirt in the same way that virgo analyzes and scorpio perceives. Its innate and like working a muscle. Libras arent flirting to cheat or even find a new lover, its to stroke their ego. Libras, like Leos, enjoy knowing that they are coveted by those that cannot have them. **Much like Aphrodite**

Libras, depending on the house placement, do tend to take on the shape of the environment theyre in. Libras are always fine tuning their personalities, piecing themselves together to form a more perfect version of themselves. (Ex. A slouching libra sees Virgo in the corner with immaculate posture and then proceeds to walk with their back straight all night. This is the same with others personality traits) While this is fine for evolving and becoming a you that you love, Libras should be sure to balance private time and social time. They need to recalibrate and remember that who THEY are is more than enough.

The house where libra is can show where you need balance and perhaps the help of others to achieve said balance. Other planets/aspects may influence Libra energy in your chart

1H libra: balancing self worth and self deprecation based on the internalized opinions of others

4H libra: balancing family life and the time you spend on your legacy/future/friends

12H libra: balancing being in the subconscious realm of daydreams and being present in your daily life

[tearsrainandalittlepain]

Sad, Hurt/comfort.

Matt x OC

Happy 21st me, I guess.

Content Warning!

Depression, lonely 21st, vigilantism, bruises, crying, nightmares.

Trigger warning!

Suicidal thoughts (brief!), trauma, past bad/upsetting birthdays.

A/n: it’s my 21st a few weeks ago, and as you can see. It was not going great :3 here’s some soft, sad, hurt comfort. Cats are based on my own two, I love them-

Edited on app

✨🌻✨

It started with a nightmare. Or really, the day started with a nightmare. *IT* had started weeks before. Rolled in slowly, like a snow laden giant traversing rocky mountains in a storm. Depression creeped in, sunk its claws so deep into Victor’s soul, tore him up from the inside out. It had started to hurt physically at that point.

It was 1:56 am, the sky still dark and the streets hushed. The birds quiet and the usual antics of the city below barely reached his ears. The only thing moving in his sparsely lit apartment was his cats, his chest and the fans. There was a soft humming, music playing in the lounge room and the city noise filtered into his ears. It was almost comforting, if not for the lingering tendrils of fear and adrenaline.

Victor rubs his eyes, heart thumping against his ribs from the dream he barely remembers. They whisper a self-deprecating ‘Happy birthday’ to themself before rolling over. A cat rubs against his face, it’s fur soft and comforting. He breathed a sigh, lingering fear subsiding from his body quickly.

“Yes, good morning, Kismet. What have you and Angel done tonight, hm? Any mess I’m going to have to clean?” As he speaks, Victor sits up, one hand rubbing his eyes the other scratching Kismet's ears. The cat meows, a soft little thing that makes the human chuckle. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Getting up is a little hard, his knees slightly swollen from a long night ignoring pain in favour of stopping crime. His thigh was tender from a slightly failed T shot and his ribs ached with every inhale but he still got up. Still pushed on.

Stumbling through his apartment, Victor hummed to himself. It was a self soothing thing he’d picked up when he first moved out on his own. It was new still, he still called out his weird ideas and weirder intrusive thoughts, thinking someone would laugh. Every time there was silence.

It hurt, being alone. They weren’t exactly a social creature but they were used to a busy and loud house. Something only achieved when his few friends dropped in or he spent a weekend with his parents, cats in tow.

Music played somewhere from the lounge room, a feeble attempt of making the empty home less,,, daunting. It worked, mostly. It filled the silence with something pleasant, while offering very little in means of conversation.

Angel started dancing around his feet, her stunning red and cream coat easy to see in the dim light. Her mews soft, little things, like she was still afraid to do more than whisper.

Kneeling down, Victor let the tabby smudge herself all over his bruised knuckles. They cooed at her, scratching under her chin before standing once again.

“Alright you pair, when did you break this time?”

Padding around the place, looking for any signs of damage, picking up his discarded uniform, the black, vibranium laced cat suit was a gift from Bucky the first time the other found him laying almost dead in a ditch.

Still humming to himself, occasionally sweeping a cat from beneath his feet, the vigilante continued his light cleaning. They scooped the trays and sprayed a little scent damping around them, for if Matt or one of the other enhanced dropped by and finally did his dishes from two nights ago.

It was productive, calming after an all too familiar night of fighting and restlessness. He’d managed a few hours, though, something he was proud of and probably shouldn’t have been.

Once his tidying was completed he stood in the middle of the lounge room, not sure of what to do with himself now. Matt, or at least the Devil, might still be up. A sinking, cruel feeling weighed in his heart at the thought of Matt.

Everybody knew how head over heels Victor was for him. Or at least, most people did. Victors dumb body likes to react to very, very attractive people. Like, for example, the first time Victor met James Barnes, the Winter Soldier, Mr Bucky. Victor had tripped over his feet, stumbled through the choppiest of introductions and went so red the rivalled Sam’s shield. It was embarrassing, getting laughed at mostly but also watching the pained patience on Bucky’s face morph into one of mild amusement.

They’d become good friends after, good enough that when he found the other in a ditch he had fixed him up carefully and gifted him his own special Wakanda made suit. And heavens above was it the comfiest thing he’d worn while fighting. It helped too, with the aches and pains in his body. The ones caused by the laundry list of issues riddling his body.

He had an appointment set to finally take steps on figuring out what even started this rapid descent into random pains days, even long before the fighting and climbing walls. He was getting closer to answers finally.

Groaning he decided to sit down, by now the clock had ticked over into the ‘witching hour’, a time where he’d generally be curled in bed scared of anything paranormal happening. What a silly thing for him to think considering the people and beings he hung out with during the days.

He located his phone, laying mostly useless on the coffee table and started scrolling through social media. There was nothing. Almost everyone was likely asleep, or uninterested in this- ordinary day. He’d hoped someone had, given their nightly activities, left him something to wake up to. A small ‘happy birthday’ at least.

It wasn’t like he celebrated it though, having more important things, more important people to celebrate then an inconsequential day of the year. Victor put the phone down, sighed and closed his eyes. What did it matter, it didn’t to him, that’s for sure. So what they were ageing, that this was a massive milestone they never thought of seeing. That just the other night he thought about ending it.

Truely, totally exhausted now, Victor flopped onto his side. Watching as Kismet sniffed the air and running over to his prone form on the coach. There were tears in the vigilantes eyes as the black cat leapt up and quickly let his whole weight fall against his human. Soft purrs in offer of comfort.

It was stupid, he was stupid for feeling this sad about being forgotten. It’s not like he encouraged or felt the need to tell anyone about this day. The ugly feeling inside him grew, larger and larger until it burst out in the form of hot, heavy tears, the soaked couch, cat fur and made his arm slippery.

He cried for what felt like hours, but was mere moments before he forced himself to stop. Victor wasn’t worth tears, wasn’t worth the self pitying and depression that came every year at the time of his birthday. He was just a person, this was just a day.

Sniffling and wiping the rest of his tears on his palms he lost himself to the slow breathing and hiding of his emotions. Well, at least most of them, he was alone, in his own space. He was allowed to be sad.

Victor vaguely thought about booking an emergency therapy appointment, should have after the ideation became a plan, and then almost became an action. Who was he kidding though, he couldn’t just ask for help. That was crazy.

That was reserved for people who deserved it, which to him was everyone else. Victor snorts at his own hypocrisy, he’d helped Frank Castle into therapy and found a better therapist for Barnes. Had helped Bruce! Fuck he’d even found someone for the spider kid. Everyone else deserved help, they’d been through real battles.

Frank lost his kids, his wife. Had served. Barnes had gone through decades of torture, murder and all of the guilt. Spider kid started fighting wars as a kid! Bruce was Bruce.

All Victor had struggled with was a rough and tumble childhood that left him with scars and falling mental health and an immune system that was both strong and weak, a body that wanted to stop, lungs that couldn’t hold oxygen right and some weird skin thing that turned some patches darker over time.

He couldn’t complain, really, honestly! He was alive, mostly. There was that one time when half the world was blipped, but everyone came back, him included. To this day Victor still pretends that never happened.

He was buried so deep in decades old pain, stale thoughts and forced upon views that he missed The Devil entering his home. Victor was still curled on the couch, a sleepy eyed cat curled against him and tear marks still lingering on his cheeks.

Once he did notice the other awkwardly standing in his kitchen, Victor sat bolt right, startling both Kismet and himself. Moments stretched, became even more awkward. It took everything in him to finally speak up.

“M-Matt, what- uh, what are you doing here?” His fingers twitched, Victor had to temper down the urge to wipe his face again knowing it wouldn’t do anything, Matt already knew he was crying. He felt pathetic.

“I was checking on you. You left early last night?”

Ah, a man of very few words. Victor understood, it was a little awkward bursting into your friend's home after patrol looking for a patch up and finding them having a breakdown on the couch.

“You, you need any help? I can get the first aid kit?” Victor's heart ached, tonight was not shaping up to be a good night. At this moment he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, shower once he reawoke and go about his day. Would it be rude to kick out a friend who needed help? Probably. He started standing to fetch the mentioned kit when Matt answered.

“No, no. No injuries tonight.”

There was a soft, shy smile on his face when he took the first tentative step towards the couch. Mostly to make sure he didn’t step on a very excited Angel, but also a little to not frighten an already heightened Victor.

“You okay? Rough patrol?” Victor leaned against the back of his couch, watching Red paw his way across the distance only to stand two feet away, Angel was trying her damn best to trip him up. It was kind of cute. “Come on, Matty, sit. You know I only bite when asked.”

Matt snorts, it’s an unexpected and ugly thing. It makes his cheeks flush and brings a smile to your lips, it relaxes the tension around you enough for the Devil to wind his way around the couch and fall into the seat.

The couch is comfy, big enough for three. With just the two of them it leaves enough space that they have to cross it with great confidence to touch one another. The ginger cat had followed Matt over and was sitting next to him on the ground, looking up with golden, hopeful eyes.

“What happened tonight, Matthew? What’s brought the Devil to the Cats door, hm?” Victor laid back against the armrest on the couch, it dug into his bare skin causing indentations and raw, rubbed skin.

Matt sighed, masked face tilting towards the ceiling. One hand dangling down towards the ground, fingers mindlessly, patting over orange fur, while the other was tossed haphazardly over the back of the chair, one foot tucked under his knee. He looked carefree, exhausted and a little defeated.

It worried Victor a little. Only a little. Matt wasn’t bleeding or gasping for air, nor did he look uncomfortable from wounds, only tense. So, normal, guilt ridden Matty. Victor waited for an answer but it never came. It set him on edge, sitting here with Matt quiet and withdrawn.

Matt sighed again and removed his face covering so that he could run a hand through his hair and over his eyes. It looked like he was trying to pat out his thoughts.

“What is it then, Matt?” He asked, soft and tired. He didn’t want to play games tonight, only wanted to drink and sleep until true morning came with the promise of sleep deprivation and forgetful friends. His heart twisted, thinking about how he’d have to try and pretend to be happy if he ran into anymore tomorrow.

In his musings Victor missed how Matt shifted uncomfortably, a little nervous now that he was faced with the worn down tone of the cat vigilante. “I heard you.” He started, hands now resting in his lap, tracing the dips and diverts in his suit. “I was, uh, heading home and was gonna stop in anyway to make sure you were okay after last night.” His face scrunched up and it was so unfairly cute that Victor had to turn away.

“But then, I heard you crying, so-” He trailed off here, his own exhaustion catching up to him, it showed on his face. In the bags under his eyes and how his whole face looked pinched and grey. Truly he looked like shit. Victor felt bad, it twisted something inside.

“Oh.” He paused, eyes lingering away from the man in front of him. Victor didn’t know what to say or contribute. “I, uh, I’m fine. Just, not having a good night?” It wasn’t exactly a lie, just skipping over the whole truth. Victor winced, he knew that Matt would be able to tell. “It’s a bad week, a bad day. Nothing bad happened, I swear, I’m just having one of those times. Mental health be doing its thing.”

Matt nodded, sitting up a little, “Did you think that people forgot about today? About your, uh, birthday?” He asked, head tilted a little, listening to the other's heart and breathing. It was always fascinating watching Matt ‘see’ the world. It was comforting in a way, confronting in another.

Victor huffed, a gentle sound. His eyes had found the Devil again and he closed them tightly. “People have. You’re the only one to speak up. My family, my friends back home haven’t, haven’t messaged, or called. They haven’t remembered, Matt.” Tears welled up in his eyes again, fists tightened and his heart slammed against his ribs. “My closest friends, Matt. People I grew up with, forget.” He sniffled, the tears started to fall. It hurt in a profound way.

The other male leaned forward, a warm hand resting over his shoulder. It was that contact that reopened the flood gates. Victor turned towards Matt, falling into him, seeking out warmth and comfort. “They forgot me.” It sounded hollow, yet so full of pain. It echoed through his body and into Matt’s. The brunette sucked in a deep breath, not exactly ready for the emotional feedback.

After a few moments of awkward sightless staring, Matt wrapped his arms around the other, murmuring comforting words under his breath, waiting for Victor to rise from the breakdown again. He hurt for the other, how alone they must feel.

“I’m sorry, Vic, I’m so sorry.”

They sat there for hours with the cats snuggling between them. The sounds of crying slowly pattering off as the sun started to rise. The city and birds started to awaken leaving the two exhausted and clinging to each other.

“Will you stay?” Victor asked shyly against his chest, a cat happily resting in his lap. He felt wrung out, raw and just a little sore from a headache from a good cry. There were still no messages of celebration, it still hurt but a little less with Matt holding him. Protecting him from the lingering pain.

Matt nodded, one hand carding through soft, black curls while the other was wrapped around slumped shoulders. It felt vulnerable being held like this, holding Victor like this. Being together like this. The dawn light filtering in, attempting to lighten the area. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

Victor detangled their limbs, picking up Kismet and placing him on the couch before standing and taking the other’s hand. “Thank you. Come on, we, uh, we can nap?” He led the other into his room, kicking his stray hoodie into a corner, blushing. “Uh, I have some clothes that’ll fit. I’m sorry I made you sit there in that.” He said, knocking their linked hands against Matt’s armour.

With a light chuckle, Matt shrugged. “It’s fine. A nap sounds perfect.” He heard the other nod, feeling a stab of sadness as his hand was dropped. It was interesting listening to Victor shuffle around his room to the dresser, tugging out a shirt, shorts and hoodie for him.

“They aren’t as soft as your clothes, I can’t afford them, BUT, they are the softest thing I own and the bed sheets are silk, so-” There was a weary smile colouring Victors’ voice. He turned to Matt, clothes in hand but didn’t approach. He was back to being awkward and that just wouldn’t do.

Matt stepped forward, arms outstretched for the clothes. “It’s fine, honestly. The sheets are a surprise, I see that one nap at mine persuaded you though.” He chuckled at the rising heat coming from Victor, who quickly turned to give Matt the privacy to undress while also seeking out his own hoodie… which, if Matt wasn’t wrong, was the one he was missing. “You stole it?”

“Uh, no?” Victor clung to the article, holding it against his chest tightly. “Maybe, but only because Frank said you wouldn’t miss it and I was cold. You can, you can take it back?” It was insincere, only offered out of politeness and Matt knew, he shook his head once.

“You and Frank are thieves.” He said, folding his suit and quickly sitting it on the desk chair that was lingering near the door away from the computer desk. “You can keep it, you seem- rather attached.” It was said with a teasing lilt, something to help soften any guilt the other had.

“Thank you.” Victor whispered, pulling the item on and humming. It was a little big on him, the arms falling far enough only pale fingertips could be seen. “Are you dressed?”

Matt hummed an affirmative, stumbling up behind Victor to lay his chin on the other's head. He constantly held the mere inches he had on the other over him, but it was cute. Useful, too, when helping him calm.

“Nap time, I suppose. It’s a small bed so, little spoon or big one?” Victor asked, only a little embarrassed with the situation.

“Big. Hurry up, Vic, I’m tired.” The other grumbled, dropping to his knees on the bed. “I’ll take the door side today.” Victor hummed in a knowledgement and quickly shuffled to the wall side of the bed and flopped onto his side. There was a soft sigh of comfort as he wiggled around.

“M’ready.” He whispered against the pillow, a small stuffed animal shoved under one of his arms and against his chest. “Get in, devil boy, it’s sleeping hours.”

Matt smiled, climbing in after Victor. He tugged up the blankets and laid down, draping his arm around the other. “Hey, Vic?” He mumbled against the others hair.

Victor hummed, head tilted a little towards Matt. “Yeah?”

“Happy birthday.”

Victor cleared his throat, the smell of salt assisted Matt’s nose again. “Th-thank you.” Matt nodded, closed his eyes and steadied his breathing getting ready to drift off.

It took a while to fall asleep, mostly due to ignoring Victor's quiet, suppressed sniffles. Matt had listened to him cry enough today to know this was more of a private moment. One that needed to run its course. So he waited, listened and sighed softly when Victor finally drifted off to sleep himself.

“You’re a worry, Vic. You need to reach out more.” Was the last thing he said before falling into sleep.

They rested for a while. Thankful to take a small break from working, saving the city and being alone.

-

In the lounge room one single ding of a text came through, to was from Frank. The message read, ‘happy birthday. don’t run yourself too hard. reach out, kid’. When Victor reads it later it brings tears to his eyes again, but also a soft smile. He looks over at a lazy Matt and sighs.

Yeah, his birthday started shit. With a whole lot more tears than normal, but it turned out alright. He texts back, a quick ‘Thank you. Meet for dinner?’

“So, since it’s my special day, think you can play nice with Frank? There’s a free, homemade dinner involved.” There’s a laugh from the couch.

“Of course, anything for a free, homemade meal.”

Yeah, yeah it was an okay day. Better than he usually got this time of year.

[nako-doodles]

I want to thank you for being so nice last night. I was in a bad headspace and you were very patient with me even when I was going into your inbox with self-deprecating words. Still not 100% but I'm OK and I just wanted to thank you

its ok anon we all have bad days. its how we act and bounce back from bad days that really matter. im proud of you either way ✨