#I will wake up so late and get nothing down

[gghostwriter]

Time Gave No Compass, Were There Clues?

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times fate brings you to cross paths with a certain handsome stranger and the one time he purposely crosses with yours Trope:It’s fluff in a meet cute type of way w.c: 5.6k+ a/n: this is connected to ‘One Single Thread of Gold’! This took forever to make simply because I had this fear that the second part wouldn’t come out as great as the first and I’ve been in a writing funk lately—not quite sure if my writing worsened or got better during this period but at this point, maybe I shouldn’t care that much anymore? That’s a lie so please comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The first encounter—a knight in a vintage blue vehicle

The drumming noise of the rain against the vinyl awning of the Japanese restaurant became the perfect soundtrack for watching countless strangers scurry to the nearest shelter.

It was the night that you have dubbed your unluckiest as a woman in Washington—up until he came along.

According to the morning weather forecast, there was little to no chance of rain. A radiant reprieve from the downpour of light rainfall the city had been experiencing three days in a row. A believer of facts you were, excitedly slipped on your new pair of heels and joined the outside world, sun shining up above the sky without a single speck of dark cloud lingering in its wake.

The work day was nothing special—jumping on video calls with your boss, answering international emails from the magazine’s sister branches abroad, and reviewing articles set to be published for next month’s print.

Nothing unusual. No sign that the day would roller coaster down and up again, before ending right before a drop, leaving you white knuckled with anticipation.

As you were exiting the diner with your freshly cooked to-go in one hand, the weather decided to beat the statistics presented by the news forecast. Rain poured down hard, effectively stranding you on the covered sidewalk.

“Oh,” you mumbled under your breath, forced to settle down on the empty outdoor seating. The gust of cold wind that caressed your cheeks to turn pink reminded you of comforting childhood memories—warm cocoa, blanket forts, and cuddles with your precious teddy bear. 

It brought a smile on your face, recalling the time when life was still simple.

Working as a writer for an established fashion magazine had its own ups and downs. You felt lucky enough to be given the opportunity to work with living and breathing artists, all the while having the flexibility to live anywhere in the country.

Your boss initially found it odd when you mentioned temporarily moving back to Washington. It wasn’t a state well-established in the industry after all. It was a city filled with starched pressed suits, neutral ties, and newly shined loafers—the epicenter for politics and everything serious. 

The ridiculous misconception about fashion and its frivolousness caused your nose to scrunch. It was the same idea that pushed newly graduate you to move to New York and burn the midnight oil to be where you were now, highly respected in the circle.

She understood your truth—the need for a change of scenery before jumping back in to the game with fresh new eyes. Jokingly, she wagered you’d only last two months away from the Big Apple before coming back. It had been six months since then and you were starting to believe the urge for the city that never sleeps will never cross your mind again.

As you mused about the trajectory of your career, the clouds started to let up, enough that you took the chance to open your compact umbrella and possibly ruin your heels to get to the nearest subway entrance just 10 minutes away.

A mistake that you realized halfway as a sudden blast of strong wind flipped your umbrella inside out, rending you vulnerable to the hasty returning rain.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as water started to stain your light purple satin heels, turning them near black.

Definitely ruined.

The flickering light of the entrance and the still warm spot underneath the restaurant pulled you in two different directions. Should you just brave the weather already starting to look like a drowned animal or should you go back with your tail tucked between your legs?

As you debated your next move, being poorly protected by your broken umbrella and soaked by the tormenting weather no less, a blue vintage car came to a stop beside you and honked it’s horn.

“Um—do you need help? A ride, maybe?” a voice shouted out of the rolled down passenger window, barely heard against the torrential downpour.

A good Samaritan was rare this day and age. So uncommon that it made you immediately wary. You looked around, making sure it was you the stranger was addressing before uttering a reply.

“Depends on who’s asking,” your free hand clutching the ends of your spoiled umbrella. “Are you a serial killer by any chance?” 

He paused, caught off guard with your question, and chuckled. “What? No, no. Not at all, just a concerned citizen.”

You bit your lip, wavering between accepting his offer at the risk of your life, before reaching to open the passenger door. “Fair enough.”

The stranger promptly layered a black windbreaker on the tan leather seats. “Sorry, it’s just—did you know that wet leather can lead to discoloration?”

Your eyebrows raised, shuffling to get comfortable on the seat—mindful of your back not touching, before giving him a nod. “Yes, actually I did but it’s great to see someone else know about it too.”

He pressed his lips together into a tight smile and reached forward on the console, tinkering with the unlabeled knobs, turning up the heat. 

Your eyes tracked his every movement, curious as to any indication to who this mysterious gentleman was.

His nails were light pink in color, clean, and cut short—possibly for a desk office job. His fingers were long and bony, model length you’d surmise—a little calloused on one side of his middle finger possibly from holding a pen too tight. The back of his hand veined and wide in size, big enough to dwarf your dainty slim hands in comparison.

Your cheeks heated up, feeling guilty for gawking at a man’s hands before spilling your address without so much of a thought for your safety.

The stranger blanched, clearly caught off guard with your trusting nature. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to go with strangers willingly? Or provide vital information about yourself for that matter?”

You appraised his profile as his eyes trained on the road. 

Hazel colored hair that curled around his face. Sunken eyes framed by long, dark lashes that any woman could envy. A tall and straight nose bridge. Maroon pillowy lips and a sharp jawline perfectly matched with a five-o’clock shadow.

He was handsome.

Pretty even.

The type you’d see a casting agent and photographer fawn over.

Shoulders seemingly angular and wide, stretching his black knitted cardigan well. It’s arms pushed up to showcase his forearms lithe in form with muscles flexing underneath as he twists the wheel to take a right. His seat pushed the farthest it could go, highlighting how tall he could be.

Your handsome gentleman could rival male models that graced your magazine’s editorial pages.

“Well, you don’t look like a serial killer and I think I’d take my chances with you than out there—” a flash of lightning trailed on the darkened sky followed by a loud clap of thunder. “—yeah, I stand with my choice.”

His laughter mid-pitched, filled the confined space. “And how does a serial killer look like?”

“Sinister and not trustworthy. You look neither, by the way,” you shrugged.

“Actually, there’s a minor percentage of killers that don’t fit in your description. Ted Bundy is an example, he used his good looks to lure in unsuspecting women.”

You hummed in agreement. “You’re right and you could definitely use your looks too but I still doubt you’re one. Let’s call it intuition and if I had to guess, you work at a desk job. Finance or Human Resources, maybe?”

“Are you saying I look—” he cleared his throat, a wrinkle appearing between his well shaped brows. “—handsome?”

“Well, at the risk of sounding like I’m flirting with you—which I’m not, well, maybe. But yes, I think you’re good looking. Handsome.” 

The pink flush that slowly darkened to a cherry red started its descent to his exposed neck, making him look more endearing. His reaction made it quite obvious he was never one to receive such flattery about his appearance which made you question the eyes of the women around him.

He was utterly distinguished and dressed in this comforting nerdy fashion that added to the appeal.

“I take it you’re not used to compliments.”

The long lashes that framed his molten chocolate eyes fluttered, as if highlighting is naivety in dealing with the opposite sex.

It sent butterflies free in your stomach.

“Yeah, but thank you. And I’m really not a serial killer—I wouldn’t be using a memorable vehicle in picking up a victim in a crowded street with city cameras around. Not that, that information helps me state my case. In fact, it’s making it worse—” he rambled out, easing the car into a stop beside your apartment complex. “What I meant was, I-I think you’re good looking too, beautiful.”

You laughed at the absurdity of where your night has ended up.

The air trapped between two bodies crackled with an energy you couldn’t name. It was humming below the surface, making you feel hyper aware of the man who drove you home.

It was igniting.

Possibly the start of something.

In contrast, the outside was quiet and still. The rain had finally come and gone, leaving behind its comforting atmosphere.

The lamp posts reflecting off the puddles of water, tinting the streets a warm, honey gold color. Leaves dancing, like string puppets controlled by the forces of nature. The wind whispering and giggling—to what, you didn’t know but you felt it wasn’t important to dissect. No more important than the stranger who’s scent, aged books and cedar wood, intermingled with yours, vanilla and a hint of amber.

“Thank you for the ride,” quickly exiting the vehicle. Suddenly you felt shy as the last few minutes replayed in your head—how trusting you were to take his offer and how naive it was of you to let your guard down.

The sound of a subsequent car door opening echoed on the empty street. “You’re welcome and you’re wrong, by the way.”

“Wrong about what?” You twisted to look back.

The street lights hitting his face, casting a mysterious shadow on his handsome features.

“About me working in finance or human resources.”

Huh. 

Your steps faltered to a stop.

That was a first—people around you always did say you read people best.

He was an exception it seemed.

An anomaly.

A mystery you wouldn’t mind taking a second try in solving.

“Better luck next time then. I hope to see you around,” you waved as you opened the heavy metal gate behind you.

His hand mimicked your goodbye before promptly reaching down to open his car door, effectively disappearing from your gaze as you pushed the main door open to the lobby.

As you watched the remaining water droplets slide down your coat, waiting for the rickety elevator to descend, an all important question popped in your mind that you never uttered into the world.

His name.

You forgot to ask for his name.

Hurriedly running back to the entrance, your stained heels clacking on the stoned pathway, you opened the gate just to spy the gentleman’s memorable light blue vehicle rev forward to blend into the chilly city night. 

Damn.

**

The second—a shared cup of Joe between two no longer strangers

The sun peeking underneath the cotton candy white clouds did little to fight off the inevitable Autumn air. Weeks of sunny days from the past storm is nearing its end causing the city occupants to flood the streets and parks for their last soak of Summer. 

Weeks have gone since your enthralling encounter with the handsome stranger and his vintage blue car. You’ve spent days replaying the memory in hopes of finding any more clues on who he was or even how to run into him again. Nights lamenting over the missed opportunity and the bitter what-if that came with it. The thought, now hazy from time passed, seemed to be colored in this golden hue you couldn’t quite describe.

A sigh escaped from between your pale pink lips. 

The moment was captivating.

He was beguiling.

But until you run into him again, his very being in your mind lived rent free.

Hand adjusting the pale pink scarf wrapped around your neck, you stepped into the warm quaint bakery down by the office. The aroma of freshly baked bread and roasting coffee beans enveloped the otherwise packed store. It was still early on the day and otherwise sleep deprived workers were queuing up for their daily fix.

This had been your spot since renting a small office space to commute to. Given your need to separate home from work, you’ve opted to find a studio you could call your temporary ‘work room’. It added extra expense, you’d agree but the comfort of being in a sea of strangers going to and from added a sense of productivity you’d never quite get if you created a makeshift office in your one bedroom apartment downtown.

You squeezed your way towards the front to view the pastry selection when you spotted him.

The gentleman in question at the counter, clearly holding up the line. 

He flashed Sarah, your usual fixer as you joked, a tight smile filled with apologies and embarrassment. 

Destiny seemed to have heard your calls and to that you were grateful.

Not wanting to let this second chance encounter go to waste, you excused yourself to the register and deftly slid your card on the white granite counter.

“Hey Sarah, do you mind adding my order with his? And a one of your buttery croissants would be much appreciated.”

Her eyebrows raised, clearly wondering the reason behind your surprising actions. Eyes flickered to the stranger beside you muttering his light disagreeing reaction before nodding towards you, as if agreeing with what she saw. “One long black and a flat white coming right up.”

“Hey stranger, fancy seeing you here,” you cocked your head to the side, loose tendrils escaping the confines of your loose bun.

The same blush that haunted you graced his face. “Hey—hi, it’s you! It’s nice to see you again,” his fingers proceeded to fiddle with his leather worn wallet. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. Pay for my coffee, I mean.”

“It’s no problem at all, just think of it as my payment for the ride the other day and also a thank you for, you know, not turning out to be a killer, like you kept bringing up.”

He chuckled, eyes crinkling close. “Well, I just wanted to instill some extra caution in you. It’s good to think well of people in general but it doesn’t hurt to be wary of them either. Especially the statistics of you—a young woman being targeted is quite high no matter how safe Washington seems to be.”

“I did get an earful from my friend about the reckless act I did. So, safe to say I’ve learned my lesson—” you paused, flashing Sarah a smile as your hands wrapped around the steaming cup of coffee and the bag containing the pastry. “But between you and me, I think she was more miffed about something I didn’t do.”

He mimicked your movements and proceeded to guide you to the nearest available standing table, his free hand hovering near the small of your back. 

“And what was it?”

“Not getting your name.”

His free hand wrapped around the strap of his satchel, pulling it towards the front of his body as if it was a shield that could hide away the blush that slowly crept down his neck.

“I, yeah—Spencer. Spencer Reid.” 

You introduced yourself with the same enthusiasm, finally at ease for knowing who he was.

“Well then, Spencer Reid, was I really wrong or was that just a lie to throw my deductive skills off course?” your hands pushing the packets of sugar towards his steaming open cup.

He thank you silently, counting at least 8 packets of sugar before returning the remaining ones in the jar. “What do you mean?”

“You not working in finance.”

“Well statistically speaking, more than 43% of the offices located here don’t belong in the finance section,” he grinned. 

With his eyes twinkling, he further continued. “21% of those are actually the government sector while the remaining are a mixture of publishing, business, and IT.”

“You sprouting off statistics doesn’t really sway me from my guess, you do know that?” You hummed, watching him dump and stir all the sugar into his dark cup of Joe. The idea of how sweet it would be sent a slight shiver down your spine. “If not finance then hmm—what about teaching?”

Appraising his get up for the day—a purple button down layered with a seemingly fraying cardigan and a black overcoat. He reminded of you of those quirky university professors that students would have no problem having a crush on. 

“You look like a young college professor with a couple degrees under your belt. Maybe literature? Or math?”

An airy laughter emitted between his lips. “Why is it always returning back to math?”

“I truly don’t know—” you shrugged. “You look smart and academic so that’s my best guess.”

“There’s actually a statistic on how many academically gifted people end up in the field of science rather than in math but I don’t know if you’d like to hear it.”

You leaned forward. “I actually do but that would cement my idea of you in maths.”

A ring from his pocket interrupted his reply. Spencer clambered to answer the call even before its’ third ring. 

“Yeah. Okay, got it. 5 minutes.” 

Any humor or lightheartedness the conversation brought had been erased from his face. It must have been work and the gravity of his responsibility must be heavy—definitely not finance and maybe not a professor then.

“I have to go—” Spencer tightly smiled, hands pulling the satchel and drink closer to his body. “It was really nice seeing you again.” 

You nodded, wordlessly walking out of the shop with him. As he started to step away from your presence, he turned back one last time to further throw you off course.

“You were right about one thing.”

Brows furrowing together, you shout back. “Which one?”

Spencer just smiled and shrugged his shoulders before turning forward, picking up his pace and leaving you further baffled about his mystery.

**

The third—a run- in during an otherwise idle day

The white noise the train against its tracks threatened to lull you into a daze. Its compartment surprisingly sparse with occupants during this otherwise tranquil Saturday. Everyone seemed to be at nearby parks, watching the leaves slowly turn this red-orange hue.

Your companion in hand—a book with its spine cracked and front cover folded backwards, sat idly on your denim lap. It was a tattered and worn copy of Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights. When you were in your teens, it had been the gateway to your love of classic literature and it had been your favorite ever since.

The bench you were seated on shifted and with it, medium brown brogues registered in your periphery.

Inwardly, you scoffed at the stranger invading your space when there were a multitude of empty seats available in your section. Briefly you wondered if this was going to be another day of being picked up by men who didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’ which inevitably would ruin your day. 

As you were debating on nicely excusing yourself away, the man cleared his throat.

“Hey—hi,” he sheepishly greeted in this voice that had been replaying in your head since that rainy weekday night. 

You blinked away the surprise—the bafflement that fate had seemed to cross your path with his again and again and again. It always happened when you least expected it. After all, you spent numerous days craning your neck for even a small glimpse of Spencer Reid to no avail. Your eyes would subconsciously sweep the streets for a view of any suede coat matched with a purple pattern scarf. It had been your own version of Where’s Waldo—a past time that your friend joined as you forbade her (and by extension, yourself) from looking him up online. 

You wanted to keep the mystery and it seemed fate was rewarding you today.

“Hi-hey Spencer. This is a surprise,” your cheeks stretching wide from the grin you gave him. 

His fingers brushed a nonexistent stray of hair behind his ears. “Yeah, I couldn’t believe it was you. The odds of ever seeing you again—or anyone I’d know on the train is low, with how many people Virginia has.”

“Isn’t it fascinating?” your hands closing the book that no longer held your attention. “How we seemed to just run into each other? Funny how that works.”

“I mean, you could say that—not that I believe in destiny or fate with how abstract and little scientific studies it has. Maybe we just run in the same small schedule or circle.”

Your eyebrow raised, appraising his look. 

His hair looked unruly—with one side more flattened the the other, possibly slept on. His clothes, although free from any stains that would indicate it as yesterday’s, had crease marks that were reminiscent of its folding. They were clean but also not pressed—came from the satchel then. The very same bag laying on his lap, no doubt filled with dirty laundry and other necessities.

“I don’t think so,” you pondered on. “Are you just on your way back home from work, by any chance?”

“How’d you know that?” His voice cracking at the end.

You shrugged. “I pick up on things, small details and all that.”

“That’s really good. Must come in handy with your work as a journalist.”

Now it was your turn to be surprised. “How’d you know that? How’d—what gave it away?”

“It was an educated guess which—” he flashed you a grin. “—you just confirmed now.”

“Touche. Although that does seem unfair,” you pouted. “You know my occupation but I can’t even get yours right.”

He tilted his head to the right, eyes twinkling with life that keeps you pulled in. “You’re welcome to guess. In fact, I could give you a clue if you wanted—” he paused waiting for your agreement which you readily gave. “—alright you were right about one thing the last time: the one about me having multiple degrees.”

“You look young so I’m guessing a genius?”

“Well, my co-workers do like to tease me as one and it is true so yeah. I am a genius.”

The way his eyes shifted showed how bashful he was in admitting out loud he was one. You briefly wondered if there was ever a time where he felt embarrassed about it—probably in high school, you’d surmise. Teenagers, after all, had the tendency to ostracize anyone who doesn’t fit the rigid status quo they’ve collectively agreed upon.

“That’s amazing!” You gushed. “And it does narrow it quite down, actually. Do you happen to work for the government? I mean, I’m sure they try to collect the best minds our country has to offer, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do work for the government. And you’re right, they do tend to employ gifted adults as a way to also surveillance them—to make sure they don’t turn into anti-statists or anarchists.”

You pondered over every detail he presented. Freshly manicured nails tapping on your leg before finally guessing. “Okay so, I was first going to say NASA because—” you shrugged. “—it’s space but then that would be too stereotypical of me to assume. Plus, you’ve thrown off just about any deductions I’ve made during our first two meetings—”

Spencer nodded. He seemed proud to listen to you ramble your way through. 

“—I was also going to guess administrative work but it’s a weekend and you’re just on your way home so that’s a no—”

A small spread on his face.

A good sign that you were in the right direction.

“—it can’t be the judiciary too, right? I always imagined them to be wearing neutral suits and have this stoic air around them—”

He chuckled.

“—so I’m guessing law enforcement? Can’t be a regular cop, they have uniforms. So, for the FBI? Or am I just reaching?”

Spencer vigorously nodded his head, the wavy tendrils tucked behind his ears escaping their confines. 

“That’s right! Wow—you’re really good at this. Maybe you should have also been scouted!” He teased.

You giggled, the happiness from getting it right and the idea of you working with a gun seemed ludicrous. “Sadly, I may be too clumsy for that kind of work. With my type of luck, I’d probably trip over my feet and mess up a crime scene.”

The automated voice announcing the next station broke through the lighthearted conversation. Spencer’s eyes widened ever so slightly, indicating that this was his stop.

“I guess this is it, huh? See you soon then, Spencer?”

He sandwiched his lower lip between his pearly teeth. “Would you be interested in purposefully seeing each other next time? I would love to get to know you more—over dinner? Coffee? Any would be great—you don’t have to say yes of course but yeah.”

“Can I say yes to all of the above?” You teased. “I would love to.”

Spencer started to get up, hands pulling on his satchel to secure it. The train was coming to a stop and you could begin to see the stop come into view.

Your hand quickly reached out to tug on his rolled sleeve. “Wait—how do we contact each other?”

“It’s tucked in your book. My number, I mean,” he laughed. The sound coaxing you to release your own. “See you!”

Your eyes tracked him getting off the train and his would meet yours one last time, before disappearing towards the station’s nearest exit. Your hands hastily opened the front page to where a new object was slotted in between without you knowing.

His calling card.

Federal Bureau of Investigation - Behavioral Analysis Unit SSA Dr. Spencer Reid 1-761-xxx-xxxx

Giggling, you fished your phone from the confines of your wallet and quickly sent out a text.

Hey. Are you a magician too, by any chance? 

**

The fourth or better yet, the planned first—two strings interwoven by fate

Spencer hadn’t been able to explain the circumstances that led him here tonight—walking through a nearby park in the sparkly but cold weekend night with a beautiful woman right by his side. 

The dinner date had gone surprisingly well. So great in fact that he didn’t want it to end. Suggesting to walk you back home rather than use his blue well beaten vehicle left parked near the restaurant was his idea to prolong the night. 

He was well aware that you both could be exposing yourselves to a seasonal bout of cold but for the first time, it didn’t matter to his overactive and over-analytical brain. Nor did it seem to matter to you—given with how vigorously she accepted his suggestion to walk. 

Your dainty right hand was wrapped around the bouquet of flowers he personally selected. An array of daisies, daffodils, and sedums.

Joy from having to meet you, to new beginnings, and affection.

Spencer wanted to convey what he had been feeling since that run-in the coffee shop. Regardless if you knew what they meant.

This was all uncharted territory and the incidents that brought them into each other’s worlds was baffling to say the least. 

Was this the really the works of fate?

Does this prove that destiny is true and the notion of having free choice is a lie we tell ourselves?

He concluded it probably didn’t matter.

All that mattered was where he was now—with you.

“So you really took all those degrees all together?” you clarified, eyes widening from disbelief. “The amount of studying and writing you’ve done must have been massive.”

“Well, it did help that I could read fast—20,000 words per minute, but I could still remember my hands cramping from the amount I had to type down.”

“Of course you can still remember, with your eidetic memory and all. That must be nice—never forgetting any novel you’ve read.”

He shrugged. “It does have it’s perks but between you and me, there is a downside to it.”

You halted in her step, staring inquisitively up at him. 

Spencer found it cute—how even with yout heeled boots on, you could only reach up to his chest. It gave him this sense of protectiveness over you being. 

“Oh yeah, like what?”

He pondered. “Well, we did have this one vampire case and one of the victim’s laptop password was ��Cullen’ and I didn’t get the reference—thought it was ‘colon’ actually. So I decided to read the first book and didn’t like it.”

“You actually read ‘Twilight’?” You giggled. It sounded like wind chimes echoing through the trees.

“I was curious!” His voice went up an octave. “Is that what teens are reading, really? What ever happened to reading ‘Lord of the Flies’ or Franz Kafka during high school, for that matter?” 

“The one where a group of boys are stranded on an island or the one where the protagonist turns into a cockroach? Doesn’t really read romance for teen girls, Spencer.”

He chuckled. “And a 104 year old vampire does?”

“It’s about the idea,” you continued on walking, free hand swinging in between you—all he had to do was reach out and intertwine it with his but could he do that? Should he? Would she want that? “How Bella is your average, teen next door and someone like Edward, mysterious and handsome, could fall for her. It’s about the premise—I mean which teenage girl didn’t dream of something like that?”

“Does that include you too?”

You laughed. “I mean—Edward isn’t really my type but sure, I guess.”

Spencer decided to do it. He tentatively reached out his pinky to yours, looping them together.

There, a small touch you could say no to.

He waited for the reaction. From himself, there was a lack of worry for germs (this surprised him) and from you, the possibility of rejecting his small advances. With a breath lodged in his throat, Spencer watched a shy smile grace your face and cheeks turn further pink. 

Empowered by the reaction, he reached out to intertwine the rest of his freezing hand with yours and proceeded to tuck both into his coat pocket. Spencer felt his cheeks emit warmth, wondering where his courage came from. If Morgan just saw him now, no doubt he’d get a pat at the back and a whispered ‘you’ve got serious game, kid.’

“It’s a good thing he isn’t my type at all, don’t you think so?” You whispered. “I mean, you don’t sparkle in the sun, do you?”

His laughter echoed through the otherwise empty streets. 

“Oh god—that was so so bad. Ignore my cheesy flirting, please.”

“No, no,” he shook his head, feeling lightheaded from your presence. “I don’t think I do, actually. We could check—” clearing his throat “—once the weather gives way to the sun.”

It seemed like you got what he was subtly stating. “That long, huh? I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“Please do.”

Both your steps slowed to a stop in front of your apartment complex.

Spencer sighed under his breath, he really didn’t want the night to end. There was still so much to talk about—anything and nothing at the same time. Is this what they meant when they said time flies when you’re having fun? 

“Well,” you squeezed his hand twice. “This is it. I had fun tonight, Spencer.”

He squeezed back in return. “I did too. Can I—call you again?”

You nodded, a single tendril of hair escaping from its' loose bun.

Mesmerized, Spencer reached forward and secured it behind your reddening ear. “Get home safe.”

“I doubt anything would happen between my way up from the elevator to my door but I will. Drive safe and let me know you got in safely, got it?”

He reluctantly let go of your hand, slowly backing away without turning his back on you. Each second seeing you bundled up in a coat with flowers still on hand was an image he never wanted to forget, never wanted to miss.

As he was a few steps away, the wind carried your sweet voice to his ears.

“Hey, Spencer. There’s one thing I think you forgot to take with you.” 

He patted his coat, unsure as to what you were pertaining to. Eyes scanning his being when the distinct sound of your heels against the pavement, getting closer and closer, made him look up.

A pair of soft warm lips met his cheeks. 

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

His jaw dropped. The act short circuited his otherwise intelligent brain. It felt like every thought had dropped away, turning insignificant, compared to the tensed silence between two individuals once considered strangers but now intertwined in a way he could not explain in any language he knew. 

Little white specks floated down from the sky, coloring the moment in the lightest color ever possible—a hue that symbolized new beginnings.

Before his mind could catch up, Spencer felt himself moving.

Towards you.

Closing in. 

Cupping your cheeks.

And meeting his own lips with the ones that short circuited his brain.

In that moment, all he could comprehend was the smell of you—like freshly cleaned laundry dried under the sun. The taste of you—cherries with a hint of the red wine you drank over dinner. And the feel of you—warm, hands grasping his coat tight, flowers dropped on the ground, momentarily forgotten.

These were details he willed to engrave in his eidetic memory. Observations he doesn’t want to forget.

And you, the single woman he hopes to never lose.

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[sunsherbet]

Insomniac

In which spencer reid offers to help you with your sleeping troubles.

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

CW: incorrect depictions of insomnia i think, post!prison spencer, aka freaky/confident spencer, praise, fastburn, fingering, not beta read

A smooth string of steaming water pours from the Keurig and you dunk a lavender tea bag into the clay mug. The water pulls the bag deeper into the mug like exhaustion pulling at your heavy eyelids. You press your palms into your eyes and let out a sob-like sigh in frustration.

It must’ve been the fourth time this week that no matter how hard you tossed and turned, sleep simply wouldn’t come.

The Keurig lets out a low whirr and you move your tea onto the island. You lean against the granite countertop and sip the warm liquid, dunking the teabag a few times for good measure.

Lavender tea was your newest attempt at curing your insomnia. Last night there was white noise and the night before was a weighted blanket- neither offering any meaningful relief. Your days have been a blur of restless naps and excessive caffeine, both efforts falling short in battling the relentless fog of sleep that clings to your mind.

By the time you reach the bottom of the mug, it’s clear—the tea has done nothing to increase your melatonin. You’re no more tired than before.

In your sleep deprivation and anger at another failed attempt you launch your mug into the wall. It shatters upon impact and you slide down the length of the counter in exasperation. Ever since you had moved to Washington DC, sleep had been a struggle. Maybe it was the bright lights and constant buzz of the city or maybe it was simply that feeling of homesickness you’d found nestled in the basin of your stomach since you moved away from home.

The sudden knock at the door breaks your thoughts, and you get up on shaky legs to answer it.

The clock above the stove reads 2:45 A.M. and you distantly wonder who could be at your door during this hour. Despite your exhaustion, you manage to gather enough sense to peek through the peephole. A man stands there, his floppy brown curls spilling just under his ears. He’s got gold wire glasses sitting at the edge of his nose. He wears a short-sleeve white shirt, light grey sweatpants, and brown bunny slippers. Those bring the first smile to your face all night.

Deciding a man in bunny slippers probably isn’t a murderer, you unlatch the door and crack it open just enough for you to slip into the hallway.

“Hi, is there something I can help you with?” You ask, trying to subtly adjust your Kohl’s pajama set.

“I sure hope so,” He gives a boyish smile and you feel something squeeze your heart. “I heard something shatter through the shared wall and wanted to make sure you were ok?”

Shit.

Of course, you’d woken him up, you threw a mug at the wall.

Seemingly sensing your distress he rubs a hand against his neck and says, “I was up anyway so don’t worry about waking me up or anything. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

And of course, he’s the sweetest man ever.

Maybe it’s because it’s late and you're tired or maybe it’s because his smile is so warm it makes your cheeks heat but you can’t seem to lie, “Honestly? I threw a mug at the wall because I tried drinking lavender tea because the stupid internet told me it’d help me sleep but it didn’t and now I’m in the same situation I’ve been in for the last few weeks where I can’t seem to fall asleep for the life of me. I was irritated and mad and upset and I’m exhausted but can’t sleep and so no I’m not okay.”

You finish your tirade with a long inhale and peek at his reaction through squinted eyes. He’s looking at you from under those stupidly attractive glasses and you feel your legs clench involuntarily.

Fuck. Now, you’re tired and turned on.

“You’ve been having trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t mean to go off like that. I think the lack of sleep is making me a bit loopy.”

Spencer shakes his head, “Did you know 12% of adults in America have insomnia?”

“Do you have a stat for how many of them chuck purple mugs at their wall because of it?”

He seems to mull over this for a bit before leaning in and saying conspiratorially, “No, but I may have something that can help you get some sleep. You know, before all your mugs are gone.”

There’s a glint in his eyes that makes your heart flutter and before you know it, you’re nodding and opening your door further.

You hear his footsteps as you walk into your apartment and when you turn to close the door he’s so close you feel his breath on your skin.

Spencer swallows and your eyes trail the motion. The moment feels oddly intimate so you whisper your question, “So, what did you have in mind.”

“It’s been shown that when sex involves orgasm, it can help people fall asleep. Following sexual climax, the body releases hormones, such as oxytocin and prolactin, that promote feelings of satisfaction and happiness. At the same time, the production of cortisol — a hormone that induces alertness and excitement — decreases following orgasm. This combination of hormonal processes makes people feel tired and ready for sleep.”

Your mouth goes slack and you feel a familiar shiver of arousal. It’s almost concerning how attractive you find his knowledge of something as trivial as cortisol production. “Are you suggesting we have sex?”

He seems at least a bit flustered at your bluntness and gets rosey. He nods, “I hope you don’t find this rude, I just know what it’s like to have trouble sleeping and I found sexual stimulation profoundly helpful.” When you don’t respond he backs up, “I should go-”

With a rise of your toes, you’re gripping the collar of his sleep shirt and slamming your lips together. Spencer steadies you with a hand on your waist and gently guides you to the door. He tastes like coffee and toothpaste and he smells like cinnamon. Everything about him envelopes you so wholly that you have no choice but to surrender to it. His lips latch onto your neck and he alternates between soft kisses and gentle sucking.

You throw your head back but instead of making contact with the wall, you feel one hand shoot out to cradle it as his other drags your leg around his waist.

“You sure you wanna do this pretty girl?” He murmurs against your collarbone.

Nodding you helplessly roll your hips against his as you say, “Yes, please.”

He grins, “Well since you’re being so polite.”

Between his fluffy words and soft kisses, you’re fuzzy on when or how but you end up lying against the couch with his leg slotted between your thighs.

Spencer’s fingers trail against the hem of your sleep shorts and with a desperate nod of consent you lift your hips so he can pull them off you.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do baby, I’m gonna help you cum as many times as it takes for you to feel tired. Are you okay with that?” Spencer asks, allowing featherlight touches between the crease of your legs.

You start to nod but he shakes his head, “Words please.”

You whine and let your head thump against the plush sage sofa. You’re almost boiling with need and you feel a wet patch growing on your cotton panties.“Yes, Yes I’m okay with that.”

Before you know it Spencer is sliding your underwear to the side and slipping a finger up and down your slit. He drags some wetness from your center and uses it as lube to circle your clit. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, feeling your thighs tremble.

“Shh, I know baby but we can’t have you waking up the other neighbors like you did me now can we?” Circling your clit with one hand he uses his other to pinch at the peaks of your nipples through the thin material of your shirt.

Maybe it’s because of his deliberate and strong strokes or maybe it’s because you’re exhausted and this is the only semblance of peace you’ve had in days but you find your release within moments of him touching you.

The next morning you wake up from the first restful sleep in days and a pleasant soreness in your legs.

[bread-toast]

pt1 pt2

thinking about…

teacher!gojo who hasn’t talked to you since he was a teenager

teacher!gojo who spends all of his time alone on missions, lesson planning, and training his students

teacher!gojo who despite his goofy demeanor is strangely repulsed whenever shoko teases and jokes about setting up a blind date for him; who only ever considered you when it came to romance

teacher!gojo who knows it would be crazy for you to give him a second chance after your high school fall-out

teacher!gojo who’s busy schedule leaves him longing for rest but can hardly get his three hours of sleep when you consume his thoughts

teacher!gojo who gives in after so many restless nights and realizes he needs to get over you

teacher!gojo who coincidentally sees you on the arm of another man on his way to his blind date and goes absolutely berserk

teacher!gojo who knows he has no right to be jealous over what could have been (it was his fault that nothing happened between you two after all!)

teacher!gojo who can no longer stand the ache in his chest when you transfer to Jujustu Tech as a new teacher and you greet him oh-so formally in the dingy break room

teacher!gojo who’s balls his fists but stays silent every time you leave work eying his figure, regret so obviously present in your eyes

teacher!gojo who finally decides to talk to you again, your constant presence overwhelming him with guilt

teacher!gojo who swore he would be collected but spills out apologies resisting voice cracks and tears when he notices your glassy eyes and quivering lips

teacher!gojo who embraces you with a longing saved over a decade of isolation

teacher!gojo who lets down his infinity for you to weep in his arms and punch his chest for being so difficult all those years ago

teacher!gojo who listens while you recall his actions between sobs

teacher!gojo who only holds you tighter, closer to him as if to never let you go again

teacher!gojo who starts visiting your classroom with snacks between breaks and making up for lost time

teacher!gojo who arrives to school early for the first time ever, standing outside Jujustu Tech’s gate waiting in the snow with a bouquet blushing like a schoolboy

teacher!gojo who knows he’s rushing it, but he just can’t wait to be yours anymore than he has!

teacher!gojo who gives his first genuine smile in years when you meet him gasping in delight at his out of the ordinary demeanor and gifts

teacher!gojo who confesses to you, the memories of years prior so bittersweet and he’s trying not to cry when he senses hesitation in your eyes

teacher!gojo who’s the happiest he’s ever been when he realizes that you, the untouchable kind amazing you has given him another chance to be yours

teacher!gojo who lets you wrap your arms around his neck dragging you into a well deserved strawberry-lollipop-flavored-kiss spinning you around in joy

teacher!gojo who’s heart drops when he notices that the bushes and trees behind you start to fade, dreading the truth he had known from the start when he sees your face get more and more blurry

teacher!gojo who only wants to deny what his six-eyes tell him for as long as he can

teacher!gojo who wakes up alone in bed, blindfold soaked in salty tears when he realizes he had dreamt of you again.

teacher!gojo who forces himself out of bed, not bothering to put on a coat as he makes his way out of his apartment

teacher!gojo who’s found the next morning by shoko, puffy eyed and unmoving by your grave

teacher!gojo who knows deep down that if he had acted sooner, confessed sooner, finished off that curse sooner, done anything sooner you might have, no, you would have still been with him happily together

teacher!gojo who knows that no matter how hard he tries, he is always too late.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

I hope you enjoyed! English isn’t my first language and it’s one of my first times trying writing but I really enjoyed these hcs! I wanted to give this a happy ending to satisfy everyone who read pt1, but I just couldn’t find a way to do so while writing. I want to work on a few one-shots soon, so I’ll definitely have a happy ending for gojo on a more fine tuned piece! Please let me know if you have any recommendations on improving writing and any requests for fics in the future!

[theoutcastwrites]

Try Again - Il Dottore x Reader

This is a vent fic. Let's just get that out of the way. I wrote this because I needed Dottore to do The Thing™. Don't read too much into this. The feelings will pass

"You've been staring at that journal for the past fifteen minutes," said Zandik, "what's the matter?"

You weren't sure it could be put into words - all the self-doubt that tormented you as of late, the thoughts that circled your mind every waking hour. Attempts had been made, in vain, to prepare a small speech in your head in case Zandik ever caught on. That, of course, he did, but you had nothing to say; not a single eloquent monologue to convey your insecurities in a way that would provoke understanding and not bewilderment.

I feel inadequate as of late. I don't feel like I'm wanted anywhere. Nothing I do matters anymore.

All miserable words that would have been met with a stern look, a simple "you are wanted by me; thus all that you do matters to me".

You tapped your pen against the empty page of your journal. You were desperate to say something, yet whatever it was that would eventually come out of your mouth already felt lacking. Nothing was enough.

"Talk to me," he urged, "you know there is nothing in this world that can't be solved. Tell me what bothers you."

You swallowed. "I feel as if I've lost all my skills. For writing, I mean. I can't come up with anything new and whatever ideas I have feel mediocre at best; uninteresting and aimless. I don't know, I..."

I think I should just give up.

The thought had crossed your mind countless times before. Wouldn't it be so much easier to abandon your work altogether? Why continue hurting yourself with this when you could simply let it all go?

You were tempted. Still, there was something that forced you to keep trying; something strange and incomprehensible that begged you not to give up this one thing that you knew.

Zandik pulled you out of your thoughts, "as far as I can tell - from what little I've seen of your scribbles - you've been writing the same themes over and over. What about trying something new?"

"I have tried. Nothing feels fitting."

"Then take a break. If I hit a dead end in my research I find something else to occupy my mind. Surely reading someone else's works will help you view your ideas from different perspectives?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. It all sounded so simple in theory - this issue should have been so easy to solve - yet nothing had worked. You felt as though you were stuck between four brick walls with no tools to break them down; nothing but your own fingernails to scrape them in hopes that someone would hear you from the other side.

"It doesn't feel so simple," you said softly.

"Why?"

"If I take a break now, I feel as if I'll only get worse." There came the first half of your horrifyingly vulnerable confession, and with it - a lump in your throat that came to embarrass you even further. You whispered the second half with enough shame to drown an entire nation: "If I don't push something out now, I'm afraid people will stop caring about me."

Zandik didn't spare you enough time to hide the tears that already clouded your vision; for he was by your side in the blink of an eye, gently pulling the journal out of your hands and hiding it behind his back.

"Why would you let such a thought become your truth?"

He laced his fingers with yours, wiped at the stray tears on your cheeks with the other hand. His glove rubbed against your skin in a way that was more uncomfortable than soothing but you made no move to stop him. Zandik continued to soothe you in the way he knew best.

"There's no race to run, do you understand? If you keep telling yourself that you'll become spoiled lest you write now, you'll never be able to see your brilliance as I do."

Zandik's eyes softened when you weakly squeezed his hand in acknowledgement. Thank you, you wanted to say, for seeing in me everything that I do not.

"Everything comes and goes; just as dusk turns to dawn without waiting for you to keep up." Zandik placed a tender kiss on your knuckles, "so don't let one difficult moment define you, my dear."

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{Heyyy so I know I haven’t really been active lately but I’ll try to get back to stuff but in the meantime have…whatever the fuck this is}~

•Snow•

When John Constantine woke up that morning he already had a bad feeling about…something

Ok he didn’t really have a thing to have a bad feeling about so far the day has been uneventful (which is odd considering it’s HIM) so John really didn’t know what was going on to make him so unsettled

But just in case (oh gods he’s starting to sound like the bats) he checked all of the protective runes on the house of mystery than checked every room for anything that all but when nothing turned up he just thought he was being paranoid

And while trying to calm himself down on the couch he heard something from behind him so he looked and when he did he saw

The Bloody Fucking Door

It was on the floor and a Being with white hair and that’s all he could really see from the hood covering their face and a mask with some of their hair coming out from under the hood kicked it the door down but before John could do anything the being grabbed him and throw him through the portal that was not there a second ago 

What has John’s life come to at this point he thought before he passed out with a cold feeling on his back and the blurry figure walking through the same portal

John wakes up to poking in his face and the sound of two pre-teens arguing

“Are you sure this is the right guy, he looks like a alcoholic” says a younger girl voice coming from his right side and probably the hand that’s poking him

“Yes, I’m sure this is the right guy he was in the magic house and he has the trench-coat” replied a boy around the same age as the girl and coming from his left side

That’s when John opens his eyes and are met with the faces of two pre-teens

~{ And that’s about it }~

•-—••••••••••••••••—-•

•Explanation•

Danny (With de-aged Dani and Dan who have been renamed Dawn and Dusk for plot purposes) had to dip from his home dimension but not the reasons you may think so

Vlad was being his usual asshole self and with Maddie shutting down any and all attempts at getting a date (I HC that he’s obsession is family because he was left alone in the hospital with a secondary obsession on control because he couldn’t do anything about he’s condition or help himself, but it’s still not a excuse to be a creep) so he was holding on by a thread at this point now to get off topic of this for a sec

Meanwhile Dani~Dawn and Dan~Dusk had to de-aged and Danny was taking care of them with a little bit of help from his parents when remembered they have children (Somewhat good Fenton parents! That’s rare in this Fandom) and a very busy Jazz has she is dealing with college stuff and everything is chill

Until Vlad’s obsession starts to change from dating Maddie and keeping Danny as his son to just keeping Danny but in the way Ra and Slade are and of course Danny is creeped TF out and starts to get ready to dip and somehow this gets back to Vlad and that’s what makes him go off the deep end and he starts to go after Danny

And in the fight to leave Jazz, The Fentons, Sam, Tucker all get got by Vlad and Danny gets injured but he is able to go through the portal and destroy it from his side with Dawn and Dusk with him

And they end up in Danny’s Lair and this leads us to now

•Explanation Done•

•—-••••••••••••••••—-•

•Outfits•

John Constantine-

Nothing really changes it’s basically the same as always

Danny-

Dusk-

Plus

( For his coat, Dawn and Dusk have to wear warmer clothes because they have a Wind and Water Core instead of just Danny’s ice core and they HATE IT )

Dawn-And her coat

•Ending•

~{And that’s it! I left this mostly unfinished so if anyone wants to take this I’m fine with it as long as you tag me so I can read! Anyway that’s about it see you gremlins soon byeeee}~

[taesanboki]

Winter wonderland!₊ ⊹

in which.. you drag ot6 out at the crack ass of dawn to play in the snow! (or you get dragged instead..)

contains: fluff!, kissing, ot6 x reader, some use of real names (sanghyuk, dongmin, donghyun), swearing (big NONO very naughty), murder jokes, not proofread so don’t get on my ass abt that, uhh nothing else ig.

a/n: disappeared for another month again sorry and i know im late to christmas..do you guys hate me? jk anyways guess what yall.. another crazy story. so basically a frickin dragon came from the clouds and burnt my neighborhood down but yk yo girl is a SURVIVOR!! haters will say this is fake 😔 LMAO ANYWAY ENJOY!

more under the cut!

| sungho ₊ ⊹

Fresh delightful meat was a perfect way to start off the day! Professionally cooked by park sungho himself, well seasoned and cut into perfectly thick pieces, oh my gosh it looks so divine! Sungho raised his chopsticks holding a chunk of rice and the thickest piece of meat ready to take the first bite when- “SUNGHO!” a voice rang out faintly. He blinked a few times before opening his eyes finding himself curled up in bed, no meat, no rice. Sungho let out a slight groan as he rubbed his eyes and stretched, the sound of footsteps being heard around the house. “SUNGHO!” you yelled again, the footsteps growing closer to the room. Sungho glanced at the clock beside him which read “7:43am”, why would you be up this early?? He looked forward and found you standing in the doorway wearing your thick white coat with equally thick pants and gloves. A cute beanie adorned your head as well as a burgundy scarf wrapped around your neck.

“Cute” He thought as he smiled at you. Remembering his delightful dream, his smile dropped once he sat up, “Ah! You woke me up from such a nice dream! What’s got you up this early y/n?!” you giggled, “Sungho it’s snowing!! hurry and wash up and come outside!!” He laughed to himself as he watched you run off like a child. Sungho quickly went to wash up and get dressed to meet you outside. He found you rolling snow with a gleeful smile plastered across your face. He walked toward you, standing behind your crouched figure.

“Having fun, darling?” you glanced back at him, “So much fun! i’m building a snowman!!” You giggled and stood up now face to face with sungho. Hearing your laugh created a warmness in sungho’s chest as he cupped your cheek with one hand, “I see that! it looks so good” “Yeah? You like it?” Sungho chuckled, “Of course I do” He answered as he leaned in for a passionate kiss.

⊹ ➽──────────────❥ ⊹

| riwoo ₊ ⊹

Riwoo sat at the table with a cup of hot chocolate and his phone in hand. You were still asleep, you didn’t usually wake up as early as he did which means riwoo can finally get some peace and quiet (no offense). There was a sudden short but loud gasp heard from your shared room followed by you clumsily stumbling out of bed and over to where riwoo resided. “HYUKIE IT’S SNOWING OH MY GOSH!!” you laughed excitedly. Riwoo smiled and placed his phone down to take a sip from his cup. “I know, love! I’m surprised you’re awake this early!”

You ignored him as you quickly ran to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You started humming riwoo’s part in “one and only” while dancing carelessly. He watched you with amusement, smiling to himself. Once you finished your business, you gathered both you and riwoo’s winter attire and pulled him off his seat, pushing his coat along with other essential clothing items to his chest. “HURRY UP AND PUT IT ON SANGHYUK I WANNA DIVE INTO THAT HUGE ASS PILE OF SNOW IN THE BACK!!!” You yelled as you ran to the room to find a somewhat pair of thick pants. Riwoo took his time putting on his outer layer of clothes while you were heard shuffling through the closet. Finally, the both of you were prepared and ready to face the cold! You swung the door open and skipped outside, riwoo following behind you. You picked up some snow and let it fall from your hands as riwoo watched your facial expression change. You stood up again and began running to said huge ass pile of snow and dove into it. Riwoo let out a loud laugh while you flared your arms around seemingly trying to swim in the snow.

Riwoo walked towards to you standing right in front of you, “Enjoying yourself, huh beautiful?” you chuckled, “A lot! but you know what would make me enjoy it more? if you’d swim with me!!” With that, you sprung from the pile and dragged riwoo down with you, little squeals being heard from the both of you. You hugged him close as you both hit the soft snow again, both laughing uncontrollably. Riwoo turned to you with a smile once the laughter settled, “Y/n, i love being with you.” you returned the soft smile, “I love being with you too, sanghyuk.” You replied as you pressed your lips against his.

⊹ ➽──────────────❥ ⊹

| jaehyun ₊ ⊹

You slept peacefully sprawled out in bed with tiny snores occasionally being heard from you. It was peaceful until jaehyun’s loud roar quite literally shook the house, “OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH!! Y/N GET UP RIGHT NOW IT LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE A FAIRYTALE OUTSIDE!!” You groaned loudly, sitting up and glancing at the time, “7:21”. Rubbing your face, you slithered out of bed heading for the bathroom to do your business before you faced jaehyun. Once you finished you were ambushed by jaehyun’s kiss attack while walking out of the bathroom, “ah! myungjae! stop it! that tickles!” you giggled as you attempted to push him off.

He continued to pepper your face and neck with kisses, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. He led you to the living room where he finally pulled away, hands still lingering at your hips. jaehyun glanced down at you with literal hearts for eyes, “Sorry baby, i’m just in such a good mood today cause it finally snowed!” You giggled as your hands snuck up to his face, “Why don’t we put on our coats and head out, hm?” You suggested. He nodded vigorously before pulling back and running to the closet. “Grab my coat for me please!!” Once the both of you finished preparing for the snow, jaehyun was the first between the two of you to swing the door open and run outside while letting out a joyful laugh. The snow rained on you as you stood there watching him enjoy his time with an admiring smile stretched out on your face. He run up to you with a toothy smile, grabbed your hand, and dragged you over to the tiny poorly made snowman on the ground. He pointed at it proudly, “It’s cute isn’t it? I found some tiny pebbles for the eyes and little buttons but he doesn’t have a nose so..” You started laughing at the cutely stupid snowman that replicated jaehyun perfectly.

Your laughter was very rudely interrupted though when a sudden snowball made contact with the side of your head. You gasped out loud, a moment of silence between you two before you spoke, “MYUNG JAEHYUN IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU” At your words, jaehyun turned and started running away from you as you quickly sprinted after him. You chased him around for a few minutes before ultimately crashing into the snow you on top of him, both giggling like children. As your giggles died down, you lied your head on his chest. Jaehyun held you close, “You’re the love of my life, y/n.” He whispered before placing a kiss to your forehead.

⊹ ➽──────────────❥ ⊹

| taesan ₊ ⊹

Taesan stood at the stove, cooking breakfast for the both of you while you were washing up. The smell wafted through the air meeting your nose as you walked out of the bathroom, your pajamas hanging loosely off your body. You came up to his side and glanced up at him, “Han dongmin, when did you get so good at cooking, hm?” He turned to you as your hands snuck up to hold the back of his neck, his hands instinctively going down to your waist.

He grinned, “always been for you, angel” you smiled back as he leaned in for a morning kiss. Your lips moved sweetly together, taesan smiling into the kiss. You pulled away and looked at him for a moment, your eyes suddenly darting out the window. Your eyes lit up as you opened your mouth with a smiley “o” shape. “SANNIE ITS SNOWING AND YOU DIDNT TELL ME?! LOOK!!” You announced as you brought your hands to his cheeks, turning his head to the window beside you. Taesan chuckled a bit, “I see”. You let go of his face and ran to your shared room to change into winter attire, taesan following you, “Y/n, it’s the crack ass of dawn and you want to go out now?” You nodded, “Taesan, you should know by now this time of the year is when i’m the happiest especially when the snow comes!” He shook his head, a faint smile on his face, “Well, i hope you have fun then!” He said and tried to walk away when you spoke, “Uhm? Where do you think you’re going? I got your coat right here you’re coming with me!” Taesan turned around, “Uh..no thanks..”

Well taesan’s attempts to convince you to let him stay inside failed because currently he was standing outside with his hands stuffed in his pockets while you did whatever. He wore a cold look on his face, the reason you ask? Cause you forced him to stand outside in the cold knowing that there’s a chance he can get hypothermia!! The snow did look pretty sitting on the tree branches, though he would never admit that to you. Taesan continued to stand there with a poker face while you on the other hand, were plotting something. You waddled towards him, hands behind your back, “oh come out sannie it’s not even THAT cold out here don’t be dramatic! Fix your face! smile!” He just looked at you, no emotion on his face, “Well, since you wanna be like that!” After the words left your mouth, you pulled at the collar of his coat and shirt then threw snow down his chest. “Ah! Ah! Ah! Y/n what the fuck?!” He whined as he went to attack you with tickles, his lips going to tickle your neck. <3

⊹ ➽──────────────❥ ⊹

| leehan ₊ ⊹

Your eyes peeled open at the sudden sunlight protruding through the blinds. You moved your hand to block it, whining as the tiredness stung your eyes. The feeling of leehan’s arms wrapped around your waist becoming apparent. You let out a soft groan and moved your hand to look out the window for a few seconds when you noticed the backyard covered with snow, the trees, the grass, everything was white! “Hannie! wake up! look it’s a sunny snow day!!” You whispered excitedly as you tapped leehan’s hand. Only a slight groan was all he let out as he pulled you closer, “That’s nice hm.”

You frowned slightly, “Donghyun it’s the first snow! get up and come wash up with me so we can go outside!!” You pulled his arms off you, got out of bed pulling him with you. The two of you went to wash up with leehan standing there brushing his teeth with a groggy expression while you were dancing with excitement. Once you guys finished washing up, leehan seemed to be less tired while you helped him with his coat. “hannie im so excited!! i love snow!!” he chuckled, “I know! i’m glad i can spend the first snow with you sweetheart!” You smiled at him and gave a quick peck on the lips before pushing the back door open, revealing a pretty sight. The sunlight perfectly illuminated the snow making the yard look glittery and sparkly. “Woah! It’s so pretty! Like a real winter wonderland!” You exclaimed as you stepped forward. Leehan wore an amused look on his face as you crouched down to draw a heart in the snow with your finger, picked it up, and showed to leehan. He smiled softly, “Cute!”. He pecked your cheek before he crouched down to do the same but your pretty loser of a boyfriend drew a wonky heart that broke when he tried to pick it up. You laughed at the sight and threw down your heart, “that’s okay, i have a better heart for you in here” he pointed at his chest.

“You’re cute, can i get your number handsome?” leehan smiled, “no sorry i have a girlfriend” he replied. You pretended to be offended and playfully pushed him into the snow. You couldn’t contain your smile as he spread out his limbs and waved his legs and arms up and down, creating a snow angel. You quickly joined his side mirroring his moves, the both of you giggling. He grabbed your hand, turning to you, “I love spending time with you, y/n” you smiled sweetly, “me too, donghyun”

⊹ ➽──────────────❥ ⊹

| woonhak ₊ ⊹

You lied back down in bed after washing up your eyes glued to your phone while your sleeping boyfriend wiggled and stirred in his sleep beside you. You were awake surprisingly early, well, if you considered 9am early. Outside your window was all white due to the heavy snow that occurred during the night. Woonhak seemed to be finally waking up from his deep slumber when his head lifted off the pillow slightly. He gasped slightly, “Y/n! Look outside! it’s all white and cool!” Woonhak whispered excitedly. He turned to you, “Can we go out pretty please??”

You sighed, “good morning to you to, go wash up and maybe i’ll think about it.” A small smile formed on his lips as he hopped out of bed and went to wash up. a few minutes later he waddled back into the room with both of your coats and boots in hand, “Hurry and put it on! i wanna try to shape a little bear out of the snow!” You smiled sweetly at him, he was to cute. You crawled out of bed and slid into your jacket then your boots. You glanced over to the bed where woonhak seemed to be having trouble tying his shoe. You watched intently, waiting for him to ask for a hand. He sighed clearly frustrated, “Y/n please help me tie my shoe” score! you went to tie his shoe while teasing him, “you’re 18 and still can’t tie your own shoe? wow that’s shocking!!” “stop it!” you laughed at his whiny tone, you found his reactions funny whenever you teased him about something. Anyway, after tying his shoe you guys headed out the door woonhak obviously being in front of you. He practically ripped the door off the hinges with how hard he pulled it open. “My gosh woonhak! the snow isn’t going anywhere anytime soon!” You chuckled.

Woonhak ran to a decent hight pile of snow and started shaping it into the bear he wanted to make. “Y/n! come help me with this!” He yelled. “coming!” you yelled back as you cautiously walked over to him careful not to accidentally slip on a piece of ice. The two of you spent the next few hours outside enjoying your time in the snow together!! <3

끝! i’m not even gonna lie to you guys i wrote the last few paragraphs half asleep along with this message.. i spent 5 hours writing this do NOT ask me why. this is also NOT proofread cause i tried to proof read it but dozed off for a second so if you think it’s bad then eat ass!! nighty night!

[casuallivi]

The Midnight Kiss

I’ve been a sad bitch and the almost nothings that I managed to write were reflecting it terribly. I want to be a happy bitch again and finish a quirky romcom that does not evolve to sad-town-fest. Pray for me and my constancy, godspeed to us all. This is the farthest I’ve ever came writing solos-turned-multichapter. Amazing and wtf.

Warning: mentions of anxiety and self-harm and infuriating blonds.

Enjoy. Comments are welcomed and cherished :)

Part 8: 500 days of Azriel - part 1

Five hundred days.

The countdown of his life turning upside down took 500 days

And it was all because of her.

DAY 1

Truth be told Azriel Marino didn't mean to pay her any attention.

The thing is life can be unpredictable, even for a big planner like him, especially when this planner happens to be in constant contact with the most chaotic variant he had ever came across. Well, maybe it was a bit dramatic of him to define a person like that, but Elain Archeron was no regular person, so Azriel couldn’t help but compare her to a surprise variable disrupting the balance of his perfect life equation.

“Fuck!” The strangled curse resonated along with the emergency door hitting the wall. Agitated, Azriel shrugged his suit jacket, making his way to the building's stairwell.

The phone in his hand was ticking time bomb. He held it like a vice, like a nasty habit he couldn't seem to get rid of. Her photo on the screen shined like a beacon, a conductor to his own personal hell. Damn it. He should have erased her contact info by now, should have erase all possible traces of her.

Easier said than done.

Azriel stared at the photo she sent as if he was staring at Morrigan herself, stared at the empty bottle of wine by her side, her tear-stained cheeks and red stained lips doing nothing to distract him from the bunch of pills in her hand. Under the ominous picture laid four bubbles that made his stomach churn.

sometimes I want 2 sleep and never wake up Sorry 4 texting I love u bye Az

It had been an hour since he received the picture documenting Morrigan's latest threat of attempting suicide.

Then nothing.

No further picture, no more threatening messages, nothing. Complete silence from the woman who had been calling and texting nonstop all week after a photo like that was a bad sign. With a shaky hand, Azriel loosened his tie and scratched his throat, willing the air in and out.

I love u

The empty text float in his mind.

It's a lie, he reminded himself. It's always a lie.

There was no coming back from the break up this time. Not for him. Whatever she chose to do or not do was out of his hands now. He had played this part one too many times to know nothing good would come from bending to her.

Scrunching his eyes shut, Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. He hated this feeling, the cruel fait of being responsible for Mor's life, the constant balance of her existent being put in the palm of his hands.

It’s fake, he mentalized. It’s fake like all the other ones.

But what if it wasn’t?

Shaking, he dialed her number.

Azriel didn't know if it was worry or deep resented anger that gave his hand tremors. Deep down he knew what she was doing. This wasn’t his first rodeo with Mor. Facetimes in the middle of the night, hysterical crying on his hallway, pictures of knifes and ropes over her bed, long goodbye emails that he should’ve not read, but couldn’t help doing so. So far, Mor had used a lot of cruel ways to razzle him into taking her back, and Azriel was so fucking done with this shit.

Still, having someone texting you the equivalent of a suicide note was frightening. Why hadn't she reached him again? What if she had gone through with it this time? What if she hurt herself? Azriel ran a hand through his hair.

The call didn't go through, panic slowly seeping through his bones.

Who was he kidding? Azriel would never be able to leave Morrigan. They have been together too long, been through too much. It was too late for him to try and leave her now, too late to break this sickening connection between them.

On the verge of crying, he dialed her number again.

He could be stronger this time, firmer, just a long time friend checking on another. He could do this. He would just check on her, make sure that she was safe and unharmed, and them he–  

“You drop that phone. Right! Now!”

The loud command caught him by surprise, Azriel turning back to the exit door. No one had come through, he was still alone on his floor.

“I cannot believe you’re calling this asshole again!” The same feminine voice reprehended.

He recognized her immediately, his ears well used to the high pitch that loved to start a fight with him, only it was a first seeing her using this tone with anyone else. Quietly, he approached the railing to get a better view from the floor below, watching his two employees fight like toddlers

“He called me all day! It’s rude to ignore.” Nuala screeched, pushing Elain’s head away.

“He’s buttering you up, your idiot,” Elain replied two second away from climbing her friend's back. “That’s how that piece of shit manipulates you!”

Jumping, she made failed attempt to grab the phone.

“He doesn’t manipulate me.” Nuala said in a defensive tone.

“Oh, please!”

“… Fine, maybe a little. But he loves me!”

“No he doesn’t. Give me the phone, Nu.”

“I will… I just need to call him real quick, it's the last time, I promise.”

Huffing, Elain placed both hands on her waist, glaring at her friend.

“You’re the one who asked me to guard you phone, remember?” She made a run for her friend, Nuala dodging her with easy. “I won’t let you get back with that walking trash!”

“I’m not trying to get back together.”

“Save the lies for someone who’ll believe you.”

“I’m serious. I just have check on him.”

“No, you don’t.”

“He was so sad Elain, he almost drunk himself to death!”

“That man was cheating on you, he can jump of a cliff an I won’t care! Give me the phone.”

“No.”

“Give it to me!”

“No!”

Azriel rolled his eyes watching them struggle like two toddlers battling for the best toy. The “fight” didn’t last long, not when Elain was willing to stick a wet finger in her friend’s ear to gain advantage. He didn't know whether to be impressed or disgusted with how far she was willing to go, and he wasn't the only one.

“Oh my God, you’re disgusting!” Nuala complained, rubbing her ear raw.

“And you are welcome.” Elain replied, turning the phone off and sticking it inside her shirt.

With a sigh, Nuala sat on the stair, hiding her head between her knees, the photographer soon following her steps, wrapping an arm around her friend. The scene seemed too personal for him to be watching, yet Azriel could not walk way without listening to all of it, not when he and Nuala seemed to have so much in commom.

Trying to give them a bit of privacy he turned his back to the railing and sat down. In normal circunstance he would never he sat in an unwkown dirty floor, but his day had been long, and Azriel was tired. The kinds of tiredness that reachs the soul. He did his best not to touch anything that wasn't necessarie.

“He will change," he heard Nuala reasoning. “He promised.”

“He always does, and he never changes. No one change for others, you know that.”

“What if he meant it this time?”

“What if he doesn’t?" A bit of silenced filled the staircase. "Will you spend the rest of your life catering for him? Being unhappy just to stay beside him?” At that, Nuala lifted her head. “Honey, that man doesn’t love. If he really loved you, he would not be terrorizing you, he wouldn’t hurt you, and he wouldn’t pretend to be hurt just to get your attention. You don’t do this to people you love Nuala.”

Nuala groaned, the weight of the words washing over her.

“If he doesn’t love me, why won’t he let me go?"

I know the feeling, Azriel thought on the upper floor.

"He has to love me at least a little bit, right?”

“You know why he won’t leave you alone? Because now that you dumped his useless ass he realized how much you did for him, how much easier you turned his life. In his mind, he can treat you as badly as he wants and you will never leave, because you don’t love yourself enough to leave, but you love him enough to stay even if it makes you unhappy.”

The women stayed silent for a while, Azriel absorbing the words that weren’t meant for him but might as well had been. To love someone more than you love yourself was a dreadful curse to carry.

“I miss him.”

Azriel paused, pensive. Did he missed Mor? Inside him there was long, a long he couldn't quite comprehend or classify. He was so tired of being manipulated and dismissed, so tired of being taken for granted, tired of being alone, still, Azriel missed being in love, and Morrigan was the only woman he had ever loved. But did he miss Mor? Azriel wasn't so sure anymore.

“I know, darling." Elain soothing voice found him again. "You won’t miss him forever, I promise. Give it time Nuala, it sounds cliché but time heals all things, it will heal you too, you’ll see.”

Another moment of silence, then,

"I think to have to keep my phone for a little longer.”

“I know.”

“Don’t let me call him.”

“I won’t.”

“Christ, I can’t believe I’m having a meltdown at work.”

“I know.” Elain laughed. “I’m so gonna make fun of you later. Come one, let’s get back. The busier you are, the less you’ll think about that waste of oxygen, come." Her voice began to feel further. "By the way, Nu, you should try Crushland, is a wonderful problem-solver.”

“And stay hidden behind plants to thirst after Cass? No, thank you.”

“Ugh, shut up. I told you I wasn’t hiding, I was passing by.”

“Sure you were.”

A door opened and closed and then the girls were gone, leaving Azriel behind. His phone rang, Morrigan’s name in capital letters screaming at him to pick up. He starred at it until the screen shut down again.

Turning his device off completely, Azriel stood. He rearrenged his tie, using the linen handkerchief safely tucked in his brest pocket to clean the dirt from hist pants. His eyes followed the material, suddely remembering this particular piece had been a gift from Mor. Azriel took a deep breath, ehxaling slowly, Elain's words replaying on his ming. The busier you are, the less you’ll think about that it. Usually, Azriel would be the first one to disagree with Elain. This time he hopped she was correct.

Reentering the halls of the building, Azriel discharged the handkerchief in the nearest bin, thinking back to the one piece of the conversation that he had not understood at all.

“What the fuck is crushland…” he muttered to himself.

DAY 185

There was a she he didn't want to think about.

And there was a she who would not leave his mind.

To Azriel Marino, Elain Archeron’s mind was a chaotic mess. Well, at least he supposed it was, since he was yet to see her having a linear line of thoughts or exhibit traits of an organized person. And he would know if she had, because Azriel had been paying a lot of attention to Elain since he accidently listen to her conversation.

Going against instinct was hard, but he tried his best to follow the stolen advices. Since that faitful day, Azriel reseted his phone without bothering to save any prior conversation, photo or information on it, switched numbers - both personal and professional - forced himself to develop a new distribution strategy to raise the number os sales, reached for a couple friends that he hadn't catch up with in years, and suspended Morrigan from the list of preaproved guests of his building.

The last action was proving to be a bit tricky since his brother lived on the same place in a different floor, Mor using the opportunit to pretend to visit Cassian and go bang straight on Azriel doors. To his credit he had been doind an excelent job of playing dead in these situation, but it was getting embarassing to pretend not being home when he was a grown asss adult. Should he move? Fuck.

The first days were rough, the suicide threat hunting his dreams. Azriel did his best not to fall, focusing in rebuilding his days without placing Mor at the center of his life, focusing his efforts in fully reviving the magazine instead. These days most of their revenue came from the digital market, but Azriel was determinate to ignite people's love for paper again. There was a certain finesse and class to the final result of a printed magazine that bright ipad screen couldn't compete with. The more he tried to revive this tradition, the less he found himself fixating about Mor.

From the confines of his office, he watched Elain's back as she worked editing some shots. Her advice was solid. Time was indeed a good healer, Azriel being the one that have never gave into it, not entirely. He wondered if she would be proud of how well he managed to follow her lead. Would she praise him? From his observations, Elain was the type to praise every trivial achievement her friends would share with her. Except for his. Not that he had ever shared anything with her. Elain and Azriel weren't friends.

He obsessed over the wrapper one last time, breathing in courage and marching to deliver it.

In his hands Azriel held a Remus 1.5x Full Frame Anamorphic 5 Lens Set all wrapped in pink. He had no inkling about professional lenses quality, but he had seen Elain daydreaming about this particular set once or twice, her computer screen stuck on the specs as she gushed to Nuala or Miguel about inumerous advantages only she seemed to follow. It is a working tool, he would say, to keep improving the magazine's quality.

Truth was the gift was a hidden thank you and a quiet peace offer.

Elain could be a mouthy thing with a questionable wardrobe and an inexplicable supply of energy for someone who disliked coffee, but over the last months Azriel learned that she was also insightful and very considerate, qualities he had failed to apreciate for they could never interact for long without fighting. During their weekly meeting Elain mostly kept to herself, scketing scenarios and playing with possible color gradientes as she dropped a terrible joke here and there, quickly associating which agencies would have the best catalog of models for the monthly issue, humming as she pinned the name to vision bord. When they were in the shooting set her other persona would come out, bossy and stern, not afraid to shout orders at anyone, not even him. Azriel was trying to learn not to interfere with her on set, still, he would razzle her sometimes, unable to stop himself from trying to be in control.

Once he stopped antagonizing her, Azriel realized their goal was the same: do a good job. That's why he suggested Cassian should hire Elain as their official photographer instead of keeping her as backcall freelancer. Elain was too good not to keep. And since she appeared to be a good friend to every one in this office, maybe, just maybe, he and Elain didn't have to be in each other's throat all the time. Maybe they could even be… well, not friends, he didn't know her personally enough for that, but they could be work colleagues. Good colleagues.

They had a couple traits in common, and Azriel was perfectly capable of using them to befriend her.

Or maybe he wasn't.

Azriel’s nose wrinkled on its on as he approached mess scatarred across the wood top that once upon a time, was a desk. Now old food wraps covered half of it, and so did empty cups (which were probably responsible for the stains on the wood); the other half was occupied by cut outs from magazines and multicolored folders, pictures of clothes, places and people that she would somehow turn into an idea.

A shiver ran down his spin, making him physicaly shake in place to get rid of it. His mind would never function properly in this kind of working space. Just thinking about putting his laptop on this desk made his skin crawl. Not surprisingly, her camera was the only item in a proper place, with no garbage nearby, safely secure in a bag and carefully placed on a lower shelf.

If there was one thing, Azriel knew about Elain was that she loved her camera.

And apparently, his brother.

Unaware of his presence, Elain hunched over her phone like a goblin, an old photograph of a shirtless Cassian posing by a waterfall occupying the entirety of her screen. If Elain was trying to be subtle about her crush, she was doing a terrible job of it. By now, he was sure everyone in this department knew she had a thing for his brother.

Well, she was a single woman and his brother was a single man... Still, Azriel didn't like the way her eyes would lite up around Cass, how easily they would slip into casualty and conversation, how she'd play with her hair and smile brightly at him, how her voice would be sweeter and higher than normal, or how they would share the same wave length for flirty jokes and heavily sexual innuendos. He hated those jokes. Hated that insufferable immodest bond that they seemed to share so effortlessly.

Why did they need to be laughing so much around each other? It was annoying and juvenile.

Sick of watching her ridiculous hobby, Azriel lowered himself till his lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear.

“Online stalking can also be considered a form of working harassment.”

Elain nearly jumped from her chair.

“Jesus Christ!” she squealed, holding her phone to her chest.

“Nope, just your boss. About to file an HR complain with you name on it.”

She rolled her eyes at him.

“You can’t complain about me, I wasn’t stalking you.”

“So you admit you were stalking.”

“I wasn’t stalking, it was a Facebook memory!” She defended herself, cheeks reds as a tomato.

Azriel watched her. Elain wasn’t the shy blushy type.

In fact, in all those months working with her he hadn’t saw her face red unless she was very angry (usually with him). Elain blushing was kind of… cute. Her heated cheeks matching the soft cherry blossom shade of her lips. Azriel was yet to see Elain with heavy make up on, her daily pattern cosisting in sunscreen, a bit of foundation and lots of gloss. He could tell her lips were the area she liked to play with the most, testing different shades of red and pink that seemed to match her mood. Sometimes they seemed the color of rose buds, sometimes they were closer to cherry red, most times they were glossy and sparkling, and sometimes he stared at them more than he should, so engrossed in the way they moved he forgot to pay attention to what she was saying. Like now.

"–and Cass befriend me," she continued. "Now facebook is reminding me that I accidently liked his old picture, and my phone died, and I couldn’t undo it, and he saw! Which was sooo embarrassing I wanted to die. When I explained he just laughed on my face and liked a really ugly picture of me from high school in return, but I’m not stalking your brother.”

Azriel simple staring at her.

Mistaking his silence for doubt, she repeated herself. “I’m not!”

For some unknown reason, knowing she was blushing because of his brother unsettled him. Azriel knew Cassian well. A girl like Elain: pretty, young, and full of fire, was like a flame ready to attract his moth of a brother. Cassian was fast to be interested in girls like her, and even faster to grew bored of them.

"Don’t let my brother fool you, Archeron. He’ll break your heart.”

A slight frown took over her features.

"I can take care of myself, Marino."

"If you say so."

His mood soured.

Pulling a couple napkings from his pocket, Azriel pushed a few cups aside, cleaning a spot on the desk where he unceremoniously placed the gift upon, not bothering to explain what it was or what was it for, Elain's frown going from annoyed to confused as she watched him dissapair back into his office.

One minute latter her scream filled the entire floor, a scream followed by,

"Thank you, Marino! Thank you! I'll preserve it and use it wisely! Thank you!!!!"

Azriel bit a smile down, too perturbed by his own emotions to enjoy her reaction properly.

That day he realized something important about himself.

Something somewhat unsettling.

In his arduous quest to forget Morrigan, Azriel found himself thinking of a different woman entirely, a woman he had no business paying attention to, a woman infatuated with his brother. A woman who, unknown to himself, had began to drawn him to her crazy way of seeing the world, beguiling him to do something he had never done in his life.

Beguiling him act on a whim.

DAY 309

"When the clock strike midnight, I'll leave this old pinning Elain behind and make out with the first man that looks my way." Elain announced puffing her chest.

If someone asked him what possessed him to meddle in Elain's imaginary love life, he wouldn’t be able to tell. And if someone had told him her love life would turn into his love life, he would have laugh himself hoarse. But there he was, kissing her instead.

His fingers twisted in her hair and Azriel felt Elain growing lax against him, the frailest of whimpers escaping her throat as his tongue slid inside her mouth, the passionate slow kiss they shared at the strike of fireworks announcing midnight making his heart pound and his head throb.

He pulled away first, slight embarrassed by how rusted his tempo was, his breath frenetic and out of place as he struggled to fill his lungs with air. Elain didin't seem to care, chasing him closer as his head moves away. Azriel kept her at bay, the fist tightly wound in her hair holding her back. To calm himself he kissed her jawline; once, twice, thrice, his breath still erratic, agitated. For fucks sakes, why was he feeling so frenetic from kissing while seated?! God, his was out of shape. A kiss to a pulsing vein on her throat and Azriel came back to earth. He had descendent more than he meant, more than it was appropriated for a couple in an open public space.

His mind was a whirlwind of chaos and something very unexpected; want. Want hited him out of nowhere. The reality of what he’s done sinking in. He kissed Elain. He had kissed Elain Archeron and he liked it. Slowly, he disentangles his fingers from her hair, putting distance between their bodies, the soft hand with manicured nails, that were twisting the front of his shirt, letting him go, dropping back to her lap.

"Feeling in love yet?" the words are barely out of his mouth before he’s making a constipated expression. Jesus, Cassianism was beginning to rub on him.

The insult doesn’t land quite right with his voice coming out way breathier than before. Shit. The kiss was supposed to be a provocation. Azriel intended to give her a peck and prove her so called 'resolution' was bullshit.

Once again her crazy rambling appeared to be constructed on solid base, the young mouthy brat proving she was way more experienced in understanding relationships than him, even he was the only one between that had 10 years of experience to acount for.

When he approached Elain's lonely sullen self on the beanbag Azriel handn't meant to kiss her. Misery was the emotion bringing them close, not lust!

I'll just warn her off, he had told himself, simply console her that Cassian wasn't that big of a loss, that migling with him would amount to anything big in the end. Despite their constant disagreements, Elain was hardworking and passionate about her job, and Azriel would hate to lose an efficient employee because his brother couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. A pretty lie his mind carved to give him an excuse to approach her. Seeing Morrigan on his brother's arms was a blown on his progress of forgeting her, and no one here but Elain would be able pro properly share that misery with him.

Azriel was already miserable with himself for waking up sharing a hotel bed with Mor on the night before. In his defense, he had no idea how that happened. Fucking hell, one minute he was visiting a new pub with a friend, the next she was there in his face. He ignored her the best he could, drinking more than he should, his low tolerance for alcohol soon making his wasted. He remember Caleb called calling a cab, hands helping him inside the car, flashes on the elevator and her. No matter how loudly he reprehended or pushed her she did not bulgde.

No matter how hard he tried, Azriel could not remember bedding her, but the evidence was there, their clothes scattered across the room, his coat hung over some chair, a used condom beside his shoe. Fucking idiot, that's what he was. So much effort. So much effort for fucking nothing. No, he would not go down this road again.

It's fine, he thought pulling his pants on, it was a slip, a mistake he would not do again. From now on if he happen to frequent the same space as her Azriel would leave. Being confrontational have never worked with her, Morrigan's habilites to bend him surprising even Azriel. And then she appeared dating his fucking brother not even 24 hours aftwards, the same smiling idiot brother who claimed to have been dating her for months now.

His life was joke.

And so was Elain's.

She didn't know it, but Azriel had watched her pathetic attempt to confess her feelings after the Christmas party, feelings way to pure to be wasted on his heartless brother.

When Elain said her drunken goodbyes and waddled to the elevator, Azriel sat his drink aside and followed on the next one. He doubt she would be able to catch a cab by herself. Turned out she didn't have too, because Cassian had reached her before him, his tall frame nearly hidding Elain from view, a mass of honey curls peeking from his left side.

"I like you," she grabed the front of his shirt for support. "Lainy, don't do this." "Like, really, reaally like you... I think about you all the time." “Oh Lainy, this wouldn’t work.” His brother's voice disperse from where he stood untangling her fingers from the hand-painted shirt Elain had gifted him as secret santa. “We could try," she began shyly, nose red and eyes gliterry from champaign, her own gift - a knitted red scarf, wrapped around her neck. "You don't know it yet, but I'm a great girlfriend," she hiccuped slightly, "I can twerk on it." "You mean swear on it?" "That too." Cassian laughed. "I wouldn't work," he repeted. "Why not?" “You seem like a flowers and chocolate kind of girl, and I don't do flowers and chocolate." Elain was silent for a moment, thinking. "What if I'm lactose intolerant? I won't need that." Cassian ruffed a laugh. "You eat dairy all the time." "Uuurgh, what's wrong with flowers and chocolate? Everybody likes them." "I don't. They bore me. We're better like this, it's not everyday a tight little thing like you has a sense of humor, let's not mess that up, huh. Enough talking now, you're a goner. Give me your phone, I'll uber you."

If his love history with Morrigan wasn't so chaotic, Azriel would have notice that normal Cassian would never have pass to chance to have easy sex with a girl infatuated with him. But his love life sucked and Azriel did not notice, too busy moping about his latest stupid choice as he watched Cassian parading around and introducing Morrigan as his girlfriend, making him feel shittier than ever. Not only he had crawled back into her arms willingly, he had also betrayed his brother.

Fuck his life.

His phone blipped, an incoming message from an unsaved number.

Meet me at mine in 40 minutes.

And now she had his number again.

Fuck his life twice.

When did she get his number? Damn it. He stared at the other texts ignores throgh the day.

why did u leave??? we need to talk call me back enough is enough az i think the condom broke, call me asap

Nothing had broken, and he sure as hell was not calling her. She had used that excuse to reach him before, more than once, which was why he make sure to check it before leaving the hotel. A small hive of bees stabed his spine. He need to leave her presence that instant. Sighing, Azriel took Elain's hand and darted inside de house, searching for an empty room, having to make do with a filthy bathroom when he found none, wandering into another demented conversation with Elain before he could get to the point he wanted.

Her countdown speech had been stupid, but he was out of good ideas to try, and hell would be damned if he would crawl back to Morrigan again.

"Listen, I have a proposition to you. You want to get over my brother, and I want to get over her. I hate to admit, but that crazy talk about a lover might be exactly what I need to move on. What we need. So, instead of doing weird things with strangers, let's help each other, let's date and move on." The words poured out of him fast, courage threatening to leave at any moment.

Elain just stood there, paralyzed, silent, eyes big as saucers. Azriel had no memory of ever seeing her so quiet, but a yappy Elain going mute probably wasn't a good sign.

"Date me, Elain. Date me and I'll date you."

"Why - why me?" She asked in a small voice. "You say you don't hate me, but you don't like me either. We are not friends."

Good, a question. He could work with questions. Azriel was great with quizzes.

"I'm not my brother, I don't like one-nights, it's impersonal and I detest strangers in my space. It's hard for me to connect with people I don't know. You, I know you - you get on my nerves, but that’s just who you are as a person, I've learned to live with that. And kissing you... I enjoyed kissing you more than I anticipated.”

Her eyes cast down, cheeks growing warmer at the mention of their kiss. Azriel kissed her there, right on the bright pink cheek, starting close to her ear to make a line till the corner of her mouth where he nib the skin with intent, his nose desapearing in her soft flesh.

"You said to do different, right?"

She agreed wordlessly.

"Could you imagine me having a heart-to-heart, in a filthy bathroom, with you, of all people? This is me doing different."

Gently, he grabbed both sides of her face and kissed her again, pouring all his attention in Elain and Elain only.

Azriel wouldn't lie, their midnight kiss had been awkward at first, stiffy. Azriel wasn't used to kissing someone he had never managed to maintain a civilized conversation with. Truth be told, Azriel wasn't used to kiss anyone that was not Mor. Once the initial shock waved out, Azriel found himself enjoying the kiss, quickly learning the way Elain liked to be kissed, gently angling her head when their noses bumped, hissing at the sharp nib of teeth sinking in his bottom lip, goosebumps rising as her tongue moved over it to soothe the pain, moving slowly over his tongue next.

Kissing Elain was like nothing he had ever done; kissing her was impulsive, electric... disrupting. It made he feel… something, the sparkle of a feeling that had been dormant for so long he didn't know how to name it anymore. Passionate hands closed round his neck and hair, a sharp tug urging him to move where she wanted, guiding the kiss to her liking.

Elain kissed Azriel as if he was the last man to love in the world, kissed him as if she would never want to kiss anyone else. And Azriel found himself liking that very much.

[fangirlstorycreator]

Alastor X Reader

Context: Alastor saves you, and you both, surprisingly grow closer. When you defend him from an old aquatence of his, Alastor's fondness for you grows. But when you find yourself in danger, Alastor will stop at nothing to get you back, especially when your in the hands of one of his enemies...

Contains: Asexual Alastor, Asexual Reader, but romance is involved, swearing, mentions of injury, kidnap, attempted sexual assult, hypnosis, Not for minors

P.S. Anytime you see writing in red, that is when Alastor is speaking with his static demonic radio voice

Part 3/4

The next morning, you wake up, stretching out on the bed. Hearing and feeling those satisfying cracks of your joints, exhaling in relief, now that you had woken up a little better. Sitting up in bed, it's then you remember that you didn't sleep in your room last night, you slept in Alastor's. But where was he? He wasn't beside you? That's when you hear footsteps come from his ensuite bathroom, and in he comes, happy and humming some music to himself.

"Ah! Good morning my dear! Did you sleep well?"

"Yes thank you. How about you?"

"Interestingly, I actually did. You must have some affect on me that allows me to rest and feel tired. If that is the case, I may request you sleeping with me in my bed more often"

"If last night was anyway to go by, I'll be more than happy to do that"

"(Chuckle, sits on the bed next to you) I would very much like more nights like the one we shared together my dear. Since I have been in hell, no evenings have been pleasant or comfortable, except that one"

"I feel the same way (holding his cheek)

"Aaahhh...your touch is so warm (gently holds your wrist) I would like more than anything, to stay with you this afternoon my dear. But I'm afraid I am needed at another overlords meeting"

"Ah, your going to have fun then? (Giggle)"

"Oh ho ho, I wish!"

His eyes softened, looking between your eyes and lips. Tilting his head, he leant in and gave you a tender kiss.

"Wonderful.....I must leave you now. (Stands up and checks his suit) If you have no plans this evening, I would very much like to take you out for a stroll through Cannibal Town. I know a wonderful place that makes cocktails. Would you like that?"

"I'd love that Alastor"

"Splendid! Well my dear, I bid you a good day"

He made sure not to leave without bowing, and kissing the back of your hand. Oh, how can one guy be this charming? You couldn't help but giggle, even as you left his room and went to the lobby to see everyone, that happy, warm feeling was still there, and it would take a really bad day for this feeling to stop. As you talk and hang out with some of the others in the hotel, Alastor had just started walking down the street to his meeting, but he didn't notice Angel walking on the opposite road, and into the V's tower to start work. Poor guy looked exhausted, rubbing his eyes and holding a coffee as he walked into the studio, not making eye contact with anyone, not until he'd had his first coffee of the day. Sitting down on a sofa, Angel sips his drink and flips through his phone, texting Cherri, when someone walks up to him, and suprise surprise, it was his least favourite person.

"Morning baby....."

"Hi Val"

"Awww, is my star feeling a little tired?"

"Uh? No-no! Ain't nuthin I can't handle big V"

"That's a good boy. In fact....for being such a good boy lately...why don't I reward you with a day off today?"

"Wait? Seriously?"

"Of course Angel baby. Why dont you follow me to my office, and I can write in the diary that you can have a holiday today"

"Uhh...sure"

This was veeery strange, even as Angel followed Val into his office, he knows Val is never this nice, well he's NEVER nice! Closing the door behind him, Angel was suprised to see Vox in Val's office, sat waiting for him.

"Hi there Angel. How's it going?"

"Uh, hi Vox. Things are fine, I guess"

"Good, good. So? Val's giving you a day off hm?"

"Yeh, seems like it"

"Great! That's great! But....I just wanted to ask you a teeny weeny favour. If you want a day off, that is?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Just take a seat, right hear"

Vox asks, pointing to an office chair. Angel has no choice but to do as he's told when he's in Val's studio, but it was strange being told by Vox instead. He sat, waiting for Vox to ask for this favour, but it was not what Angel was expecting. Assuming it was something sexual, he wasn't expecting anything different. That was, until Vox walked up to him, leaned in close....and suddenly started hypnotizing Angel. He couldn't speak, couldn't move, his eyes were just like Vox's, he was completely under his control.

"Good boy Angel. Now listen to everything I say....and do....exactly...as your told...."

Later that afternoon, you were sat on the sofa with Pentious and Husk, they were arguing, and you were doing your favourite thing, reading.

"Look, I'm just sayin, your weapons are shit compared to my gambling cards"

"How dare you?! I'll have you know I purchase the BEST weapons from Carmilla Carmine!"

"They can be from her or any other weapons dealer, it doesn't change the fact that Vaggie won't let you use them."

"But I-"

"Guys! I'm trying to read hear! If your going to argue, can you do it somewhere else please?"

"My bad Y/N, but you know I've got a point right?"

"Weather you do or you don't Husk, Charlie said the lobby isn't a place for arguing. So, if your going to keep doing this, please do it somewhere else"

"Our sincere apologies Y/N, perhaps I can show Husk hear, what REAL weapons look like! Gambling cards are NOTHING compared to one of my cannons!"

"Pfft, yeh right"

Thankfully, the sound of their arguing was now a distant sound as they leave the lobby, now you can read in peace. Reading was definitely your favourite hobby, and Charlie's hotel library was filled with so many classics. You were currently reading another old favourite of yours, called Of Mice And Men, it reminded you of your project's, good times from school. Being so deep in your book, you didn't notice Angel coming back into the hotel. But he wasn't himself, infact, he was a lot slower, and seemed a little dased.

"Angel? I thought you were at work today. What are you doing back?"

"IIIII....aaammm.....not working...today..."

"Uh? Are you alright? Your talking really slowly. And your eyes, they look all cloudy. Oh god, have you taken something?"

"Uuuhhh.....yes! I've uhhh.....taken...some strooong drugs...."

"Oh no, let me get you a glass of water"

"No no...I uhhh....I know what I need.....it's uhhh....it's in....Alastor's room"

"Alastor's room? What's in Alastor's room?"

"Mmyyyy....upper drugs....yeh....I took...tooooo many downerssss.....I need my uppers...it'll fix me right up"

"Why are your drugs in Alastor's room?"

"Uuuhhh....he...took 'em....when I was....pissin him off....."

"Well, you do push his buttons Angel, I'm not surprised he took your drugs. Alright, what do they look like? I'll grab them"

"IIIIII'l come with yah....and help yah"

"I think you should sit down Angel, you really dont look well"

"No no...I insist...c'mon..."

He started heading up the stairs, even if you weren't going with him before, you definitely would have gone with him just to make sure he was ok. So you did go with him, watching him carefully, making sure he didn't pass out or have some issues. This was really not the Angel you knew, what kind of drugs had he taken? This was Angel after all, taking anything he could get his hands on, but his behaviour hear, was next level. You held your hand behind his back as you both walked to Alastor's room, just incase he fell or stumbled, he was your friend, and you didn't want him to get hurt. You both enter Alastor's quiet and unoccupied room, fire place still lit, balcony door wide open, and a little radio music still softly playing in the background.

"Ok Angel, you said Alastor took your drugs. Do you know where he might have put them?"

"Uuuhhhh....maybe by the-(shakes his head) The fuck?!"

Angel's eyes suddenly changed, from a tired hase, to his normal pink eyes, almost as if he'd woken up from sleepwalking. But it only lasted for that brief moment, then his eyes were hazy again.

"Angel? What just happened to you?"

"Nnnnnothin baby....I'm gooood..."

"No. (Walking up to him, holding his face) Angel, are you in some kind of trance? This doesn't look like drug affects anymore"

"I'm fiiiine baby....(shakes his head) I....I-nngghh! I-fuck! (Shakes one more time) Nngghh-aah! What?! What the fuck?! What am I doin in hear? Toots? How'd I get hear? Why are we in Al's room?"

"You mean you don't remember? Angel, you came into the hotel in some kind of daze. You said you needed your upper drugs from Alastor's room because he took them. Don't you remember that?"

"Gnnhh...(rubbing his head) I don't remember that at all. All I remember is goin to work, talking to Val then-"

Angel suddenly goes quiet, his face pale, worried, like a dear caught in the headlights.

"Angel? What's wrong?"

"I...I remember Vox talkin to me....Val, he...he said I could have the day off, if I listened to Vox. Vox looked right into my eyes, everything went all dizzy, then-oh shit! Y/N! Behind you!"

Angel pulled you towards him, in hopes to protect you from whatever was behind you. You looked around in a panic, and there, two figures had climbed on to the balcony and into the room. And not just any figures, Vox and Valentino.

"Well well well...it seems your little whore is good for more than just a fuck Val..."

"Yes...he is...good boy Angel....now move out of the way so we can take what we need...."

Valentino said, staring into your soul. It made you feel sick to the stomach, your body shakes with fear, and Angel could feel that as he held your hand, standing infront of you in a protective way.

"Babes, I swear, I didn't know about this! I had no idea they was gunna come hear! All I remember was Vox lookin at me, then-"

"Then I hypnotized you, made you lure her to a place alone, where we can take her"

Vox replied. Val chuckles in a sinister way, taking very slow steps closer to you and Angel.

"Val please! She's my friend! Please don't hurt her! I-I'll do anythin!"

"You can shut the fuck up, you little whore!"

"No, Val!-"

Val punched Angel, right in the face! Then threw him against the wall like he weighed nothing. Poor Angel was knocked out when he hit the floor.

"Angel!!"

You scream, running over to him, in hopes you can help him, protect him. But Val grabbed your arm, pulled you away from Angel and threw you infront of Vox. Who stood infront of you, staring down at you on your knees.

"That little whore served his purpose...and now it's time for you"

Fear pumped through your veins, desperate to run away, you stand, and try to make a run for it. But Valentino grabs both your arms, pinning them behind your back so easily with his one long gangly arm. His other one grabbed your neck, making you face Vox. You whimpered in fear, while Val just chuckles evily in your ear, leaning in close and smelling at your neck.

"Get the fuck off me! Let me go!"

Vox took a step closer, smiling as he watched you struggle in Val's tight grip.

"Your ours now, you little bitch. Alastor's gunna to know, not to fuck with me again...and what better way to do that? Than torturing the only woman he's ever given a damn about"

"Your wrong! I'm nothing to Alastor!"

"Don't bother lying to me...I saw yours and Alastor's little dance under the starlight....you can't protect him, and he can't protect you....your ours now"

"I'll never be yours! Now let me go, or you'll regret it!"

"Oh really? I think you'll find I-"

Anger surged through you, hearing his voice made your blood boil, and because of that, you spit right into his eye, not letting him finish his sentence.

"Ghah! The fuck?! You stupid little bitch! You'll pay for that!"

"Go fuck yourself! You pathetic wide faced fuck!"

"Oh no little lady...(reaches into his pocket) your the pathetic one!"

Suddenly, he lunged at you, covering your mouth and nose with this damp cloth. You struggled to breathe, it smelled awful and was slowly making you dizzy. You writhed and panicked in Valentino's grasp, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't escape. Your vision was slowly going dark, you were on the verge of passing out, but as your sight darkened, you heard the last words from Vox.

"Alastor's gunna see who's really incharge hear! And you....are about to feel a whole world of pain..."

And just like that, you were out like a light. Floppy and unconscious in Valentino's arms, he let you fall to the floor, both him and Vox stand over your body, smiling proudly.

"I like her....a little lady with a fire in her....one I like to fuck with"

"You can do with her what you like Val, once I've had my turn. What are we gunna do about him?"

He asks, seeing Angle still knocked out on the floor.

"Ah fuck him. He's had worse, trust me. And there's no way he'd squeal, he knows how much punishment he'd face if he did"

"Fine. Grab her, we need to get out before anyone sees us. But first....I'm just gunna....leave my mark in Alastor's room......"

Meanwhile, Alastor had just walked out of the building where his overlords meeting was being held. He was walking beside Zestial on his way back to the hotel.

"Come now Alastor, would thou not accompany me? Perhaps partake in some refreshments?"

"Oh I would love to my good man, but I'm afraid I have the company of a wonderful lady waiting for me back at the hotel. It was a pleasure seeing you once again, till next time"

Alastor happily carried on towards the hotel, humming some music to himself, the thought of you in his mind. He did have time to spend with Zestial, but he wanted to see you instead. His mind filled with the memory of the dance under that stars, his many kisses on your perfect lips, it made his smile even more noticeably than usual. Pulling open the hotel door, he announced that he was back to everyone who was in the lobby.

"Good day to all! I hope everyone is in fine spirits-oh? My my, what seems to have happened hear?"

Alastor asks, seeing Charlie hold an ice pack to Angel's head, all of the others looking worried.

"I say Angel, did you fall down the stairs? Or maybe took something that impared the logical part of your brain? Causing an unfortunate injury?"

"Al.....Al I'm sorry. I swear, I swear to god I'm so so sorry. I tried, I didn't want it to happen. I was hypnotised and I-I couldn't fight back!"

"I say? Whatever are you talking about Angel?"

Poor Angel looked scared to death, So Charlie decided to tell him instead.

"Alastor? Maybe you should sit down"

"Oh, I'm afraid I cannot sit down right now my dear. I have Y/N waiting for me to return, I must go and see-"

"Al....something....somethings happened"

"Whatever could have happened that could delay me from-"

He stops. He notices everyone is hear, except you. Seeing the worried look on everyones face, including the guilty look on Angel's.

".....What....has....happened?....."

"Now Alastor, before you get angry, just know that none of this was Angel's fault. He was hypnotised. And when he was able to-"

"WHAT HAPPENED?!"

"Well....uhh....ok ok. Angel went to work, and Vox hypnotized him. And he didn't want to do this Alastor! Angel had no control!"

"What.....happened?.....

"........Vox and Valentino took Y/N"

"THEY'VE WHAT?!"

"Ok ok! Alastor! Just take a breath-"

"Take a breath?! Charlie! Why didn't you send for me the moment this happened?!"

"I was going to! I swear! But when I came upstairs to see what all the noise was about, poor Angel was knocked out! We had to help him!"

"Al, I swear, I didn't know they was gunna do that. Vox put me under some kinda spell or somethin. And I didn't know what was happenin, till me and Y/N were stood there! I swear! When they came in through that window, I tried to keep her safe! I begged Val not to hurt her! But he threw me against the wall, then.....then I woke up down hear. And Charlie has this ice pack on my head. Al I swear, I didn't mean for any of this to happen"

"Are...you....telling me....that Vox hypnotized you....in order to kidnap Y/N?..."

"I'm so sorry Al....I tried....I swear"

Alastor's body went tense, anger filled him, he struggled to utter a word, grabbing fist fulls of his hair.

"Alastor, Angel is sorry, and we can think of a way to get her back, I promise. We just need to keep calm, think of a plan-"

"Vox...will pay...for this....."

Angel plays with his ice pack, worried Alastor will be angry with him.

"Al, I'm really sorry. And hey, I'll even clean up the mess they left in your room when they-"

"What?! This happened in MY room?!"

As quick as a flash, Alastor ran up the stairs to his room, closely followed by Charlie. Upon entering, he saw the devastation that was left behind. His room was destroyed, his bookcase, crushed and broken, fire place filled with pieces of furniture, his balcony window smashed, and there...on the bed...was a note from Vox.

How does it feel huh? How does it feel? Knowing that your never going to see your precious little girlfriend again! Me and Val are gunna have some fun with her before we kill her, just know that everything that happens to her, is your fault. And don't even try coming to the rescue. If me, Val or anyone even thinks your in the building, I'll snap her neck! Have a fun afterlife without any happiness radio dick!

The note burned into a bright green flame in Alastor's hands, his rage was far too strong, and he himself created this unearthly scream, almost like a wendigo in a haunted forest. His eyes turned black, his teeth sharper, punching the walls of his room. Even Charlie's calming words didn't help him, nothing would. In his rage fuelled state, nothing was stopping him, that is, until he stops...something in the corner of his eye catches his attention. Tears filled his dark eyes as he leant down, to see the radio trinket you got for him, all smashed up, damaged by Vox before he left. The anger slowly dissipated, but turned into sadness, tears pouring from his eyes, turning back to red from black. He held the pieces of that trinket close to his heart as he collapsed to the floor, crying uncontrollably. Charlie slowly approached him, resting a hand on his shoulder as he wept.

"I am so sorry Alastor. I promise we're going to get her back, even if that means calling my dad"

Wiping his tears, Alastor looked at the trinket, memories of you flashing in his mind. Dancing with you, you giving him his trinket, your laughter and him holding you as you slept. He felt this surge of power in his chest, determination.

"No my dear.....leave it to me..........Vox is about to learn what happens.......when you mess.......with the radio demon....."

After what felt like many hours later, you finaly start to stir. Your head feels very heavy, like that feeling when you get ill from the flu. Your eyes were seeing this new environment, blurry, weird shapes, then eventually, your clear vision was back. You had an awful headache, felt queasy, and it hurt to move, but why was it painful? Looking behind you, you notice your hands were tied together on a pole behind your back. Even with your wriggling and pulling, you couldn't get your hands out of this weird stuff. It wasn't rope, it looked almost like cable's, or TV wires? Whatever it was, it was hurting you the more you moved. Taking in your surroundings, you see this strange room you've never seen before, there were large photo frames on the wall of Vox, Val, and their advertisements. These large columns surrounding the room, and love hearts around the walls. This must be the V's building. Of course it is, they kidnapped you, where else would they take you. You remember what happened now, Val holding you against your will, Vox drugging you, and now you were tied up, and in definite danger. Turning suddenly to the door, in walks Valentino, he's smiles at you smugly, and menacingly, your stomach twisted at the sight of him. He kept eye contact with you and he walked through the room, standing by the window, blowing smoke from his poisonous lips.

"Nice to see your finaly awake baby girl......do you like it hear? I hope your all....cosy...(chuckle)"

"I'm about as cosy as a diabetic being given a sugar overdose"

"Oooh, there's that feisty side of you. Even coming around after being drugged, you don't back down"

"What the fuck did Vox put in that cloth? Jesus christ....I feel like I wanna throw up"

"Ah yes, that's a little something of mine I made. Sometimes, I need to get...new recruits...so to say"

"New recruits? You kidnap people!"

"Eh, kidnap is such a strong word. I prefer recruiting. I'm giving these pathetic sinners a chance at earning money, having a career, fame"

"Yeh, against their will. I'm guessing anyone who refused you, would face dying all over again?"

"Clever girl. I give them a choice, but it's up to them to make it"

"I promise you now, no matter what you think is a tempting offer, I'll never deal or work for you"

"Hm? Oh! You think? No no no baby girl....your hear purely for our enjoyment"

"Our?"

The door swings open, and in walks Vox, looking as smug as ever. He couldn't contain the smile on his face when he saw you uncomfortable, sat on the floor and tied to the pole.

"Ah! It seems our little sleeping beauty is finaly awake. How are you feeling? Hm? Did you sleep well?"

"Sleep well? You drugged me you mother fucker!"

"Ah ah ah, your not really in a position to be saying those things to me little lady. Your in our building, under our control"

"Go fuck yourself!"

"Hahaha! I love that anger! Don't you Val?"

"Oh I certainly do Vox. It makes the whole experience, that much more enjoyable...someone who's easy to break, isn't as much fun to play with"

"Your right. And I hate to say this about Alastor, but at least he has good taste. Your quite a cute one aren't you?"

"Cute, Vox? She's stunning. Let me have a turn with her first"

"Ah ah, not yet Val. I think she needs...a little roughing up first"

Vox knelt down to you, grabbing your cheeks, getting a better look at you. But what he didn't realise, was that he was a little too close to you, and you were still very angry.

"Such a pretty little face. It's a shame were gunna have to-"

With one quick and heavy move, you headbutt him right in his face.

"Ghah! Fuck! Fuck that hurt!"

He shouted, stumbling back, holding his now cracked screen. A trickle of what looks like blood is coming from the corner you hit, but you just smirk, glad that he got what he deserved from drugging you.

"You stupid fucking bitch!"

"That's for taking me you wide faced prick!"

"Oh hoho, your gunna pay for that! Val!"

"Mmmm...."

Vox holds a cloth to his face, but that's not what your focusing on, because now Val was getting closer to you. He knelt to you, grabbed you by the throat, and slowly squeezed, not letting you breathe, frightening you each second he grips you.

"I...am going to enjoy.....destroying you......what I put Angel through in my videos, is nothing compared to what I'm going to put you through!"

He pushes your neck away, letting you go, where you gasp for air, pain coursing through your neck, tears flooding your eyes.

"(Coughing).....heh......(laughing)"

"What's so funny?"

"You....stupid moron....whatever your plan was to 'destroy' me, won't work"

"Oh really? I think you'll find that by the time I'm through with you, you'll never wanna have sex again"

"I'm Asexual you stupid bastard! I've never had a sexual thought in my life or afterlife!"

"Uh?........Vox? You didn't tell me this bitch was Asexual!"

"I didn't know that shit!"

"You said you saw Alastor kissing her!"

"Yeh! Yeh she was! She must be lying!"

You groan in annoyance.

"For fuck sake. Asexuality can be different for everyone. People all think that Asexual's never have sex, but there are some Asexual people who do. It all depends on how comfortable the individual is. As someone who works in the porn industry, surely you'd know that?"

"I work with sinners who like to fuck! Not freaks like you!"

"Your calling me a freak for knowing what I do and don't like? That's not me being a freak, it's me knowing who I really am. Unlike you"

"...What do you mean by that?"

"Isn't it obvious? Clearly, when you look in the mirror, you see a successful overlord who thinks everyone loves him. When the truth is, you are a narcissistic, abusive bastard who ruins the lives of anyone you come across. Your sex workers in your studio fear you, not respect you. And anyone who does to them, what you do, in my eyes is an absolute cunt!"

Val and Vox look at eachother, no emotion at all, it seems they're stunned by what you had the guts to say to Valentino. But that was, unfortunately for you, the calm before the storm. In one swift move, Vox smacks you across the face so hard, you hear ringing in your ears, and you spit out blood. He's in your face once again, seething in his eyes, choking you to within an inch of your afterlife.

"You can say all you like....radio bitch.....we don't care that you don't like sex...your ours tonight! (Tightens hand) But I want you, completely broken before I let Val loose on you.....and before you think that ANYONE is coming to your rescue, just know that the moment any of mine or Val's guys even think someone is coming hear to help you.....you'll be dead before you can scream Alastor's name!.........Now......(rolls up his sleeves) Let's get to the fun part....shall we?....."

Meanwhile, outside the V's tower, Alastor is stood, filled with a wrathful vengeance. He wants desperately to save you, but he knows the risks involved. He must think carefully about what to do to, in order to get to you. Knowing that if anyone in the tower sees him, your done for. So? In Alastor's mind, what better way to get in and not be noticed, than this little idea. Noone can tell Vox or Val that he's there, if the people watching out for him.....mysteriously disappear.....Engulfed by his shadow, Alastor sneaks in, hidden in the dark, lurking and watching out for anyone who may be there. Just coming down the corridor, one of Vox's guys, holding a gun and looking out the windows for Alastor. But unfortunately, this man was the first to go. Sneaking up behind him, Alastor's demonic form looms over this man, and he's devoured by Alastor in seconds. The same happens with other men who were armed and on the lookout, all, one by one, being picked off by Alastor, moving further and further up the tower, towards you. There were 3 men holding very powerful guns outside the door to you and the V's, but even that didn't stop Alastor. His wendigo form morphed infront of them from the dark, letting out this unearthly screech, but the men didn't even have time to pull the trigger, before they too, fell victim to the radio demon. Panting, fists balled up, black angry eyes staring the door down, Alastor knew you were there, and he knew he had to be careful when approaching Vox and Val, because he would give anything for your safety, anything. Bursting through the door, Alastor's evil eyes caught sight of Val and Vox, who backed up when he entered. They were both shocked, and annoyed that Alastor was able to break through the security, but he wasn't searching the room for them, his eyes fall on you. There you were. Tied up in TV cables, your hands, your arms and waist. Red raw choke marks around your neck. Two black eyes, blood drops on your head and cheeks, tears streaming your eyes, arms and legs bruised and cut, shaking uncontrollably from what you've just gone through, and Alastor had never felt such fury. He was about to approach you, but Vox's cables tightened around you, he couldn't come close without you getting hurt even more.

"You have only one chance to release her Vox! Or I swear, I will make you regret your entire existence!"

Link to final part

[rose24207]

could you please do more nerd lando? maybe the reader goes on a holiday with family and the bullying gets bad again without her and when she returns he’s really down and upset?

Nothings new

Summary: Lando, overwhelmed by relentless bullying and emotional strain, reaches a breaking point, leading to a heartbreaking breakdown where he finally allows himself to cry and lean on you for comfort.

Genre: Nerd!Lando, angst, fluff

TW: bullying, mental health, breakdown, overthinking

A/N: woah… that’s a heavy one. If there is someone out there being bullied don’t be afraid to reach out to someone and open up. Even if you feel like nothing can change your situation you’re currently in, don’t shut your loved ones out. You can even send me a messages if you want to talk about it.

English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

Lando sat at the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the alarm clock as it blared in the quiet room. The digital numbers flickered in a hypnotic rhythm, but they didn’t matter. The world outside his bedroom felt distant, unimportant. The walls of his small room had always been his sanctuary, but lately, even the safety of his own space felt suffocating.

The only sound in the room was the buzzing of his phone. It vibrated on the desk, a message from you. You had told him the night before that you’d be gone for a few days, away on a short holiday with your family. It wasn’t a big trip, just a break to get away for a while. But to Lando, it felt like an eternity. It had been difficult enough to face school every day, but now… now he was left to face it without you.

He reached for his phone, the screen lighting up as he unlocked it.

“I miss you already! I hope you have a great day! Don’t forget to take care of yourself!”

A small smile tugged at Lando’s lips, but it faded almost as quickly as it appeared. You were always so kind to him, always checking in, always making him feel like someone actually cared. But now, you were gone, and he was alone. He had to make it through the next few days without you, without the one person who truly understood him.

His hand shook as he typed a reply, though he barely registered the words as they appeared on the screen.

“Thanks. It’s fine, just school stuff.”

He didn’t want to tell you the truth. He didn’t want to worry you, didn’t want to burden you with his problems when you were miles away, living your life. So, he said nothing about the bullying, the constant humiliation, the suffocating feeling of being invisible to everyone around him. He didn’t want to tell you how empty he felt, how terrifying it was to face the day without you by his side.

But deep down, he knew it was going to be harder than usual. Without you, Lando felt like he had no anchor. He was adrift, trying to keep his head above water, but the weight of everything—the teasing, the cruel comments, the feeling of never being good enough—was starting to crush him.

Lando rubbed his face with both hands, trying to shake off the fog in his mind. He wasn’t sure what was worse: waking up to the same pain day after day or the fact that he had become numb to it.

He moved through his morning routine on autopilot—brushing his teeth, throwing on his clothes, and glancing at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

His reflection looked like a stranger. The hollow eyes, the skin that had lost its color, the thinness of his frame—everything about him screamed broken. He ran his fingers through his messy hair, barely recognizing himself anymore. He looked like the ghost of who he used to be, but he didn’t care enough to fix it.

He grabbed his backpack and dragged his feet down the stairs. His mother was in the kitchen, humming softly as she made breakfast. Her presence was warm, but it felt like a distant comfort he couldn’t fully reach. She glanced up when she saw him.

“Lando, sweetheart, you look exhausted. Did you sleep okay?”

He gave her a small smile, the same smile he gave everyone else. It was fake, but it worked for now. “Yeah, just tired from schoolwork, I guess.”

She didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t press further.

She never did.

She was too used to his evasions, to his distance. It was a language they both spoke, but neither of them fully understood.

Lando sat down at the table, picking at his food as his mother continued bustling around the kitchen. She glanced over at him occasionally, concern flickering in her eyes.

He hated it.

Hated the way she looked at him like she knew something was wrong but didn’t have the answers to fix it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly, a quiet plea in her voice.

But Lando couldn’t talk about it. Not to her. Not to anyone. How could he explain that the very air around him felt suffocating? That the moment he stepped outside of this house, he felt like prey?

That every day, he was reduced to nothing but the punchline of cruel jokes, the target of every sneer, every whispered insult? He couldn’t. No one understood.

He shook his head. “I’m fine, Mom. Really.”

She sighed, walking over and squeezing his shoulder gently. “I know you’re strong, Lando, but don’t shut me out, okay? Please. I’m here.”

He nodded absently, his throat tightening. He wanted to say something, wanted to tell her just how bad it was, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not because he didn’t want her to know, but because saying it out loud would make it too real.

So, he finished his breakfast in silence and left the house, the door closing softly behind him as he stepped out into the cold morning air.

The walk to school was long. Lando didn’t mind the physical distance—it was the emotional distance he struggled with. He didn’t belong here, not among these people who couldn’t see him for who he was, but only for what they assumed him to be.

The quiet, awkward kid. The one who always sat alone. The one who didn’t fit in.

When he stepped through the school gates, the weight of the world seemed to settle on his shoulders. His stomach churned with anxiety. The laughter, the voices of his classmates, it all felt so loud, so invasive. Everyone else was so full of life, so effortless in their confidence, and Lando was just… there. Invisible.

The first bell rang, and Lando made his way to his first class, head down, shoulders hunched. He always sat at the back of the classroom, as far away from everyone as possible. But that didn’t stop them from noticing him.

As he took his seat, a sharp whisper reached his ears.

“Look at Lando, he looks like a ghost today.”

Lando didn’t dare look up. The words stung, but he had long since learned to shut out the noise. He kept his eyes on his desk, his fingers digging into the wood as if it could ground him, make him feel a little less like he was disappearing into thin air.

Then, a loud thud.

Someone had thrown a paper at him, crumpled into a ball and aimed perfectly at the back of his head. He flinched, his heart racing as he slowly turned his head, his stomach dropping when he saw the smirk of Kyle, one of the worst bullies in his grade. Kyle leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with malice.

“Didn’t think you’d notice, did you, Lando?” Kyle sneered. “Guess you’re too busy being a ghost to even care about the real world.”

Lando’s throat tightened. He wanted to say something back, anything to stop Kyle, but the words were stuck. His mouth was dry, his thoughts tangled in a fog. All he could do was stare at the desk in front of him, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest, the heavy pressure building behind his eyes.

“You know, I’ve always wondered…” Kyle continued, his voice dripping with mockery, “how you manage to look so miserable all the time. Does it take practice?”

The laughter from the other students around him cut through him like a knife. Lando’s hands trembled, and he gripped the edge of his desk so tightly his knuckles turned white. He just wanted to disappear, to escape to a place where no one could see him, no one could hurt him. But the laughter, the mocking eyes, the cruel words—he couldn’t escape them. They followed him, always there, no matter where he went.

When the lunch bell rang, Lando didn’t go to the cafeteria. The thought of sitting alone at a table while everyone else was surrounded by friends, laughing, talking—it made his stomach turn. So, instead, he wandered the halls, trying to stay out of sight.

But that didn’t stop them from finding him.

Ben, one of the more vocal bullies, approached him as he passed by the bathroom. Ben had a reputation for being ruthless, and he wasted no time reminding Lando of that.

“Hey, freak,” Ben called out, his voice loud enough for a few nearby students to hear. “You’re not going to cry, are you? Not like anyone cares about you.”

Lando flinched, but he didn’t say anything. He never said anything. The words were like a constant hum in the back of his mind, the same old insults, the same old jabs, each one sharper than the last. He felt so small, so insignificant, in the face of it all.

Ben shoved him against the wall, hard enough that Lando’s breath was knocked out of him. He gasped, his hand instinctively reaching for his ribs, but Ben didn’t give him a chance to recover. He leaned in, his face inches from Lando’s, his breath hot and sour.

“You really think anyone would miss you if you disappeared?” Ben sneered. “You’re not even worth bullying anymore. You’re just… nothing.”

Lando’s vision blurred, and for a split second, everything seemed to tilt. The words swirled in his head, louder and louder, until they drowned out everything else. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands shook uncontrollably.

“Pathetic,” Ben muttered before walking away, his laughter trailing behind him like a ghost.

Lando’s knees gave out, and he slid down the wall, his back pressed against it as he tried to steady his breathing. His eyes blurred with unshed tears, but he didn’t let them fall. He couldn’t. Not here. Not in front of anyone.

He was alone. More alone than he had ever felt before.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, each class more excruciating than the last. Lando sat through them in a daze, his mind miles away, his heart too heavy to keep up with the lessons. He was barely aware of the time passing, only that the moments seemed to stretch on forever, each one dragging him deeper into the dark hole that was his mind.

By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Lando was beyond exhausted. His body ached, his head pounded, and the weight in his chest felt unbearable. All he wanted was to go home, to curl up in his bed, and to forget everything that had happened.

But as he walked home, his steps were slow and heavy. He knew that the moment he stepped through the door, the world outside would still be there, waiting for him.

And for the first time in a long time, Lando felt like he couldn’t keep going.

At home, Lando went straight to his room. He laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the words from school echoing in his mind. They wouldn’t stop. They never stopped.

“Pathetic.”

“You’re nothing.”

Lando curled up into a ball, pulling his knees to his chest. His body shook with quiet sobs, but no one was there to hear. No one was there to hold him, to tell him it would be okay. He was just… alone.

But that was nothing new.

The only thing that kept him going was the thought of you. He closed his eyes and imagined your voice, your laugh, the warmth of your presence. But even that felt far away now, lost in the distance.

Lando wished more than anything that you were here with him. But he knew you weren’t. You were on your holiday, and he was here, battling the world on his own.

And as the darkness of the evening settled in, Lando felt it all—the crushing weight of his loneliness, the suffocating pressure of the bullies, and the overwhelming sense that he was trapped, with no way out.

You hadn’t been gone long—just a few days, a short family trip—but in Lando’s world, it felt like an eternity. Lando‘s life had been eerily dark without you. You were the person who could always brighten his mood, the one who made the oppressive weight of his world feel a little bit lighter. Without you, there was just silence, broken only by the muffled sounds of him pretending to be fine.

He wasn’t fine.

Not at all.

When you finally walked through the front door, the relief you’d been anticipating was bittersweet. You were home, well Lando’s home and your second one, but the weight in the air felt different. It felt heavier, suffocating, as if something was hanging over the house. You immediately knew something was wrong.

After dropping off your bags in the hallway, you made your way to the kitchen where you found Lando’s mother. She was sitting at the table, her face lined with concern as she folded laundry, but there was an undeniable weariness in her eyes. She looked up as you entered, and her face softened when she saw you.

"Y/n, you're back," she said, standing up and giving you a quick hug. But you noticed how she lingered, like she was unsure whether to tell you something.

“How’s Lando?” you asked, already knowing the answer, but needing to hear it anyway.

Her shoulders slumped slightly, and she looked down at the laundry in her hands. "He's been struggling," she admitted, her voice quieter than usual. “It’s been hard for him lately. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I can see it. He’s barely leaving his room. I think… I think he’s just… really overwhelmed.”

Your stomach twisted. You had been gone for only a few days, but in that time, it seemed like Lando’s world had gotten even darker. Your heart ached, but you didn’t have the words to comfort her. You knew what he was going through, and it was breaking you to think about it.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll go talk to him. See if he’s okay.”

His mother smiled faintly, though it was clear that she was still worried. “I think he just needs someone. He’s been in his room most of the day. I don’t think he’s had the energy to face anything.”

You gave her a soft smile before walking toward the hallway. The door to Lando’s room was closed, but you didn’t need to knock. You just opened it quietly, knowing he wouldn’t have expected you back so soon.

When you entered, the first thing you noticed was how still everything was. The room was dark, the blinds drawn, the air thick with the weight of silence. Lando was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the floor. He didn’t seem to notice you at first, and for a moment, you just watched him—his hunched shoulders, the deep bags under his eyes, the way he kept his gaze fixed on nothing in particular.

“Lando?” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stiffened, as if startled, but didn’t look up. “Hey,” he muttered, his voice raw and weak. He didn’t sound like the Lando you knew—the one who always tried to hide his insecurities behind a smile or some quick wit. No, this was a different version. One that didn’t have the energy to pretend.

You stepped closer, feeling a pang in your chest as you saw how worn out he looked. “I’m back,” you said quietly. “How are you? Really.”

“I’m fine,” he replied quickly, but his words didn’t hold the usual conviction. He avoided your gaze, his hands clenched at his sides as if he was trying to hold himself together.

You didn’t believe him. Not for a second. You knew him too well.

“You’re not fine, Lando,” you said, gently sitting beside him on the bed. “You don’t have to hide from me. Not anymore.”

He finally looked up at you, his eyes red and raw, tears still lingering at the corners. His lips trembled, but he quickly looked away, trying to fight the tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, barely audible. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

The admission stung. You could feel the vulnerability in his words, the shame he carried even though there was no reason for him to feel that way. You reached for his hand, taking it gently in yours.

“You don’t have to apologize for this, Lando,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel. And you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here.”

The words didn’t seem to reach him. His shoulders shook slightly, and you could see the tremor in his jaw as if he was desperately trying to hold everything together. But the cracks were already showing.

“I just… I just don’t know what to do anymore,” he choked out. His voice was breaking, thick with the weight of everything he had been holding in. “I can’t keep pretending, y/n. It hurts so much.”

Your heart broke for him. You knew he had been struggling with the constant bullying, the isolation, and the pressure to be someone he wasn’t. It was starting to destroy him from the inside, and you couldn’t stand seeing him like this.

He pulled his hand away from yours, rubbing his eyes, trying to push away the tears that kept coming. “I don’t know how to be strong anymore,” he muttered, his voice cracking with the raw emotion he had been bottling up for so long.

You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him before he could pull away. He stiffened at first, but then, slowly, he let himself relax into the embrace. The dam broke. His body shook with the force of his sobs, his head pressed against your shoulder as the flood of emotions poured out. You held him tightly, not saying anything, just letting him cry.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, his voice barely coherent. “I don’t want to be like this. I just want it to stop. I can’t keep doing this.”

You felt his tears soaking through your shirt, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was being there for him, letting him know that it was okay to break, to not have to carry it all on his own anymore. You weren’t going anywhere.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice soft and steady as you held him close. “It’s okay to cry. You don’t have to be strong all the time. I’ve got you. I’ll always be here for you, Lando. Always.”

But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. His sobs only grew louder, more desperate, as if the weight of everything he had been through—everything he had suffered in silence—was finally overwhelming him. He couldn’t hold it back anymore, and you weren’t going to make him.

For what felt like hours, he cried in your arms, each sob tearing through him like it was his last. You didn’t say anything more. You didn’t need to. You knew that he needed this, needed to let it all out, even if it seemed like there was no end to the pain.

Finally, when his cries slowed to soft sniffles, you pulled away just enough to look at him. His eyes were red and swollen, his face streaked with tears, but there was a softness in his expression now. He didn’t look as broken as before, just… exhausted.

“I’m so sorry for dumping all of this on you,” he whispered, his voice still hoarse.

You shook your head, brushing his damp hair back from his forehead. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I’m here. I’ll always be here, Lando. You’re not alone in this.”

He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing just a little. Maybe, for the first time in a long while, he felt like he didn’t have to fight to keep it all together. Maybe, for once, he could just be himself—the broken parts and all—and you would still love him, still be there for him.

And that, in that moment, was enough.

Thank you for reading.

[kiawren]

So uhm instead of doing my 8 essays due Tuesday morning I went down a rabbit hole learning about the romance farming sim Fields of mistria. And I adore Ryis so much....I've spent hours finding out about what I can of him becuz I can't play the game before the end of November...

My s/i and him would be perfect for each other... First of all he loves birds like HELLO.! When I learnt that fact I had multiple exclamation marks on top of my head I think. And it's not even a one-off thing he mentioned, I'm pretty sure it's established as one part of his personality. He also builds bird houses. And he has a feather collection. He is just like me for real.

Ok continued with lots of words down here Woops

He's so kind and creative... He does woodworking, and some of the gifts he loves can be carved on as mentioned in the item's description. It's crazy becuz I have an oc (ik I don't post about my oc's but they're always brewing in my head) who also likes to carve intricate patterns on wood (he has a wooden arm he carves on, and likes Batik patterns and the artfulness of Wayang Kulit which is Malay shadow puppetry.) like bro. Okay. And it means he's also an artist of sorts...Um yeah I'm projecting traits of that OC into the art we'd like to do together. I think my s/i would like to carve cool patterns with him... Like what if we carve birds... And they would love to sit outside and watch birds and try to sketch them together. Not to mention that one of the events you can do with him as part of a romance stage is. Planting a tree together. I'm normal. Like hello. Planting a TREE as a symbol of your love I think that's so crazy to me it's having me so whipped. And he's so down to earth I think he moved from the city to the more village setting of the game and also he was important in helping the village recover from the earthquake becuz of his skills and also he's very lovable for his kindness I think. I'm so invested now but my essays 😊 my esssayyss.... Oh yeah he also reminds me of Kiawe becuz he dresses like he works on a farm and it was my first impression... Also I think red is his color (one of his outfits is blue though. My s/i's color but it's whatever it's nothingggg that doesn't mean anything to me) and his personality is similar to kiawe's. They both have creative interests, work with wood in some way (kiawe's staff is wood okay it's more of a stretch but. Yeah haha) they're both hardworking, relatively quiet people but very kind. Help me

[deva-arts]

☆ Nathaniel Wilson ☆

I Really Like Nathaniel because the guy embodies Hope and Positivity without forcing it down the gullets of everyone around him.

He looks like he'd be a pleasant individual to actually be around at 7 am. Even before his coffee. [ Sera should be too, she doesn't seem like an unbearable person to be around in La Matinée ( the Morning ) . But still, she is alot grumpier than her other half. ]

With that said. Insert Happy music here. Nujabes or Smth.

Submitted by @mettamorphoses!

Love the way you drew Nate here! such a clean style and serious face :> He's my favorite little quadfocal guy... friendly, polite, and a good conversationalist! You're absolutely right, he's one of the easiest people to get along with. It's almost like he knows exactly what to say to people.

Sera isn't grumpy so much as she is disinterested and dismissive. She heads to work without bothering to make small talk besides a basic "Hello." if she passes you by. Not the worst outcome, really, if silence doesn't bother you.

[running-in-the-dark]

...

[watery-melon-baller]

hey lads i keep sleeping for 12+ hours and having unsettling dreams ending in my death do you think this means anything

[potatoesandsunshine]

sad about waypoint hours :(

[akireu-13]

finally did the math and i have/will be working 65 hours in one week lol, average of 9hrs per day, which is more time than i spend sleeping

not counting the time i spend travelling, which would make it ~73, which means an average of 10hrs every day

could pick up a shift tomorrow and make it 71 (80 with travel)

[robertsbarbie]

tucker being an enabler today because tell me why i have this motherfucker as a mental health support and i just got out of bed 20 minutes ago