#but in perspective you kind of keep asking yourself if there is something that you’re doing wrong

[vicsy]

I feel like we can have the fanfic/art commenting (or general feedback) discussion until we’re blue in the face but I will say that, from personal observation over some time, fanfic writers definitely started to receive less comments. To some extent, it would be fair to say that people who create art (drawings, edits etc) also receive less engagement. Not sure how much of it is just because of the way tumblr has evolved.

[astro-royale]

What may save you..according to your rising sign…

Disclaimer, my opinion

Gemini Rising: the right kind of information. Especially information about navigating relationships, or advice from people you’re close to. Also maintaining your own personality in relationships.

Cancer Rising: Developing resilience and creating healthy habits to cope with your emotions, also Discipline. And doing things you know you have to do without excuses. Also communicate your needs directly, no need to manipulate people to give you pity. Just ask them to hold a safe space and be compassionate to you in that moment.

Libra Rising: Being confident about confrontation or creating separation if it means protecting yourself. Being around people which soothe your nervous system. I’ve noticed Libra risings can have anger issues , or suppressed anger they need to learn how to communicate in a healthy way instead of just blowing up at people or saying things they don’t mean.

Aquarius Rising: Not seeing people as lesser than you because they don’t know about certain topics or because they don’t do the things you do. And actually you may learn a lot from people you might usually avoid “basic people”. Just as you are unique, so are others. And maybe this is why you dislike people because this kind of perspective is making it hard for you to want to connect to others and acknowledge them as valuable. Also just have fun and try to enjoy the presence of other people more. Actively find things you like to fixate on rather than dislike, this will give you more of a balanced perspective.

Leo Rising: if you want attention, cultivate uniqueness and don’t look to others for inspiration all the time. Many Leo risings put people on a pedastal I’ve noticed. Become a leader and focus on carving your own path and individuality rather than always looking for “inspo”. You already are it, but take time to explore what your “It” factor is and find your uniqueness.

Scorpio Rising: my love, don’t wait for your external reality to give you stability. Go within. You are the shaman, the warrior, the truth the world needs. Go within where all your answers are. Faith and inner stability is what will give you the strength you need. No one will save you except yourself. Radically accept that your external reality will have ups and downs, and cultivate stability within. Also, indulge in some “Light” things to keep you balanced.

Sagittarius Rising: Just be honest with people bro. But do it nicely, that way you’re always going to maintain connections authentically. Dont be afraid of telling the truth because it will cause you to move else where. You’re meant to be a seeker but also to connect with people, and maybe you have big crowds you want to reach , but start off with your community. Share and try to inspire your community first, and if you can’t do that, create a community and inspire them and yourself.

Taurus Rising: Connecting with people who have spiritual values rather than materialistic. Connecting to people who don’t have something tangible to offer or just have a “use”. Connect to people your heart and soul yearn for rather than what your ego yearns for. People who can’t give anything but their heart, soul, experiences.

Aries Rising: If you want to confront people just apply for a sport. Take your energy out physically. Boxing, judo, basketball. Just anything to help you let out some steam so you can have a clear head and judge people from a balanced point of view.

Virgo Rising: chill with some artists. Or if you’re the artist, create some art. Do something to let you unwind and feel free and where you won’t judge yourself. Visiting museums and places where art and information are combined may be useful. Learn to balance play and work. Writing will help you more than you realise. Unconditional love affirmations.

Capricorn Rising: Therapy. You need someone to help you understand your feelings. Even a life coach to help you balance out work and play. Similar advice to virgo rising. You guys unconsciously rant to people and then all your feelings come out, but you don’t realise it. So try to become conscious about your feelings and when you can and when you can’t communicate them.

Pisces Rising: Have people in your life you feel like you can always count to tell you the truth and to help you see objective reality. But also try to organise your information so you won’t feel overwhelmed by it. Deffo organising will help.

[cleo-fox]

Unraveled

Summary: It was all fun and games until Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering, godly refractory periods, kitchen sex, semi public sex, Loki in a sweater.

A/N: My explanation for this one is that I saw too many pictures of Tom Hiddleston in a sweater and it gave me thoughts.

Being an Avenger has made you pretty good at rolling with the punches. After your third or fourth encounter with some alien/wizard/android bullshit, your perspective is fundamentally altered and real life seems manageable in a way that it didn’t before. You have to call your insurance company to dispute a claim? Big deal, you’ve negotiated with terrorists; you can handle Garth from Member Services.

The thing is, having that kind of perspective means that the things that do get to you can rattle you a lot more than they should. Natasha had warned you about that, but you were riding high on the thrill of successfully conquering Blue Cross Blue Shield and you kind of got to thinking she was exaggerating.

And then the seasons started to turn and Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

You can recognize when someone is out of your league. When you first moved into the Tower, it had been relatively easy for you to assign Loki to that category: he was a god. He’d been featured in last month’s GQ. You were mortal and your most recent press had been a TMZ story featuring unflattering paparazzi photos of you leaving a bodega in your pajamas at seven o’clock in the morning, a bagel halfway into your mouth. You were clearly not the same.

Up until the sweater, you’d managed to keep your cool around Loki and keep your attraction confined to daydreams and the occasional surreptitious lustful glance. Hell, you’d even had the nerve to be proud of yourself for keeping your shit together in front of him.

The sweater lays waste to all of that.

On the surface, it doesn’t seem like a sweater that is capable of completely destroying your carefully constructed composure. It’s a fairly standard crew neck in a deep green so dark it almost looks black at a first glance. But on Loki it just…does things to you. The fabric is well fitted, clinging to his biceps, pulling taut across his chest, emphasizing the line of his pectorals. It somehow accentuates how muscular he is while also still making him look lean and lithe.

The first time he wears it, you find your eyes just trail to him of their own volition, like an incredibly horny moth to the flame. It’s a day of catching yourself staring, panicking, pretending that you were actually looking at something else, and then repeating the process five minutes later when your gaze inevitably wandered again. It almost would have been funny if it didn’t put your blood pressure into the stratosphere.

To make matters worse, at the end of that day’s debriefing, he rises from his chair and raises his arms to the ceiling in a long stretch. The hem of the sweater creeps up, exposing the firm, flat muscles of his stomach, lightly dusted with a trail of hair that meanders in a tantalizing path down to his belt buckle.

You promptly choke on your own spit. Clint claps you hard on the back and asks if you’re okay, which is a question you don’t know how to answer (ultimately, you stick to a thumbs up and mumble something about dust getting caught in your throat). Loki is too preoccupied complaining about the entire concept of office furniture to notice. Or at least you’re pretty sure he doesn’t notice.

You might have been okay if that had been the only incident, but the sweater makes a repeat appearance on Friday. The following Tuesday features the deadly combination of the sweater with a pair of tight, dark wash jeans that nearly send you into cardiac arrest. Your fantasies suddenly become much more frequent and detailed.

You are not really sure what to do about this—it’s not like you can talk to anyone about it, nor can you ask him to stop wearing it without prompting some very uncomfortable questions. The idea that you’ll get used to it is laughable. 

You look at your calendar and note that spring is six months away. At least.

Fucking hell.

*

It’s a Saturday afternoon and in a strange quirk of scheduling, almost everyone is out of town for a mission or a personal obligation, leaving the Tower unusually quiet. As much as you enjoy the daily clatter and chaos that comes with living here, you find a lot of comfort in these moments of quiet, however infrequent they may be.

You intended to make yourself a late afternoon snack. That was the plan, anyway. But as you’re standing at the kitchen counter and cutting up the fruit you just washed, you realize that you’re not entirely alone. From this vantage point, you can see Loki lounging on the couch in the next room and reading.

He’s wearing the sweater. Of course he’s wearing the sweater. And the so-tight-they-should-be-illegal dark wash jeans.

Goddammit.

You have the sense to set the knife down at least. The last thing you need is a trip to the hospital because you got too distracted by your hot colleague while handling a knife.

You let your gaze travel along the firm muscles of his chest. It’s just a sweater. It shouldn’t look this good. It shouldn’t prompt these kinds of thoughts. And yet…

He shifts on the couch and the hem of the sweater creeps up. His hand drops to his belt buckle. It’s entirely appropriate, but the way his long, long fingers are splayed against his stomach makes your mind drop straight to the gutter and wonder what they’d look like wrapped around his rock hard co—

“You know, it’s rude to stare.”

His voice comes from behind you and adrenaline surges through you like an electric shock. The Loki on the couch looks up at you and smirks before disappearing in a shimmer of green.

You wonder if it’s possible to die of embarrassment and a heart attack all at the same time. It certainly feels like you’re about to.

You take a deep breath and try to collect yourself, which feels largely futile. Come on, get it together. You’ve negotiated with terrorists and insurance companies. Shake it off.

You slowly turn around, cheeks burning. Loki is standing right behind you, arms folded across his chest. You swallow.

“I um. I was—I was just…” Words escape you as your brain fires in every direction except a helpful one.

“You were just what?” His expression is intense, but you’re not sure that he’s angry.

“Spacing out,” you say, trying to infuse your voice with confidence that you absolutely do not feel.

He places his hands on the counter behind you, intentionally caging you in with his body. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him—a masculine, wintery musk that makes you want to bury your face against his chest.

“Try again,” he says. His voice is deep enough to rattle your bones.

You swallow. Everything you could possibly say seems wildly inadequate.

Loki has never been one to be at a loss for words, though, and after a moment of terrified silence from you, he continues speaking.

“I’ve noticed something curious over these past few weeks,” he says. “When I wear this sweater, you can’t seem to take your eyes off of me.”

Your heart is pounding. Fucking hell. Have you really been that obvious?

“Now why is that?” he asks, his voice a low purr.

You briefly consider trying to lie again, but the piercing green of his eyes instantly makes you rethink it. “I um…” You swallow hard. “It’s just…it suits you. You…you look good.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I look good?”

You nod.

“Interesting.” His lips twitch in a slight smirk as he looks you up and down. “And how does that make you feel?”

Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach contorting with a strange combination of fear and desire. You’re still humiliated, but the sound of his voice and the dark intensity of his gaze is intoxicating and incredibly arousing.

“I don’t—I don’t know how to answer that question.”

“Oh, I think you do.” There’s a rawness in his voice that makes your cunt clench.

You shake your head, eyes wide. You’re pretty sure he’s not really mad, but you also don't know where this is going. Surely he’s not making a pass at you…right?

“How does it make you feel to see me in this sweater?” he continues, his voice a low whisper. He pauses for a moment and when you don’t answer, he continues. “Does it…arouse you, perhaps?”

Holy fuck.

This can’t be happening.

You try to think of something clever or sexy, but the bluntness of the question and the fire in his eyes kills whatever remaining brain cells you have left. Mutely, you nod.

There’s that smirk again as he licks his lips. “Are you wet right now?”

Your cheeks burn. You give the tiniest nod possible.

“Hmm.” His hand alights on the button of your jeans. “I believe you Midgardians have a saying that is appropriate here: trust, but verify.” He slips the button free and your heart pounds like a war drum in your chest. 

You cannot believe this is happening.

“You haven’t been entirely truthful in this conversation.” His palm presses flat against your stomach, the tips of his fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear. “So I’m afraid I’m going to have to see for myself.”

His hand is achingly slow, creeping lower and lower. He watches you intently as his hand cups your sex, seemingly cataloging the way your breath hitches and all the little shivers that run through you.

His middle finger finally slides between your folds and you can’t help but moan.

“Oh, you did lie to me,” he growls, his index finger joining his middle, both sliding up to circle your clit. “You’re not wet, you’re soaked.”

Your legs are already starting to tremble and you grab on to his shoulders to try and steady yourself. The fabric of the sweater is softer than a cloud against your hands.

“Sopping wet,” he continues, trapping your right leg between his thighs and the counter, the heavy weight of his erection pressing eagerly against your hip. “And this is all for me?”

Wordlessly, you nod. There’s no point in denying it—and you don’t think he wants you to, either.

“What am I going to do about this?” he muses. His index and middle fingers lightly circle your clit again and you whimper.

“Don’t stop,” you gasp. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he says. His tone is one of light curiosity, like you’re just chatting casually about the weather. “But if I continue, you’re almost certainly going to come.”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please.”

“Oh, you want me to make you come?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Right here in the middle of the kitchen?”

You nod.

“Anyone could walk in, though,” he purrs. “Anyone could come in and see me with my fingers buried in your dripping cunt. What would they think if they saw you so utterly debauched and at my mercy, begging for me to make you come?”

“Don’t care…” you gasp. How are you already so close?

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t care what they’d think if they saw us like this?”

You shake your head.

“Oh, you must be desperate.” He adjusts his hand, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit while his index finger sinks into your slick channel, making you gasp.

“Loki, please—”

“Begging already,” he says, not letting up in his rhythm. “Has it been a long time, sweetheart? When did you last feel this good?”

It’s not a question you can answer. You don’t know that anyone ever has made you feel like this. You moan, your hips bucking hard against his hand.

“Poor thing,” he tuts. “You’re clearly desperate for it. What kinds of filthy thoughts have you had about me?” he purrs. “I’ve seen you staring, I’ve heard your breath hitch. Have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”

You manage a nod and his smile turns feral. “When was the last time?”

“Last…last night,” you gasp.

“How many times did you come?”

“F-Four.”

“Filthy girl.” His free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tips your head back. “Next time, all you have to do is ask.”

His mouth covers yours, his tongue pushing past your lips as he slides a second finger into you. You moan into his mouth as the pressure in your hips increases.

“Oh yes, let me hear all of those pretty noises,” he murmurs. “Are you going to let me fuck you against the counter after I make you come?”

You nod, whimpering.

“Good girl,” he purrs. “I think you need to be fucked properly and hard. Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” you gasp.

“Mmm, that’s what I thought. This cunt is just too wet and needy for any other treatment.” He draws back to look at you more fully, giving you a lazy, hungry smile. “You’re about to lose it all over my fingers, aren’t you?”

Your orgasm is cresting, the tingling pressure in your hips becoming unbearable. You nod, lost for words.

With one more smirk, he curls his fingers inside of you. “Come for me, pretty girl, let me see you.”

Your cunt spasms around his thrusting fingers and your whole body shudders as your orgasm overtakes you, your head tipping back as you cry out.

“Oh, that’s it,” he murmurs, “there’s my good girl.”

A shiver runs through you at his words, your hips still moving against his hand, trying to draw out every last ripple of pleasure.

He kisses you as you come down from your high, and you take the opportunity to run your hands over his chest and tentatively feel the hard planes of muscle that you’ve been staring at these last few weeks. But after a few moments, he takes your hand and guides it to his cock.

His preference for leather pants or those sinfully tight dark wash jeans made you suspect that the size of his ego might actually be proportionate to the size of his cock and your initial assessment seems to confirm that theory. You rub your fingers over the denim that covers his thick shaft, feeling yourself grow even wetter at the low groan he makes in the back of his throat.

“Take my cock out.” His voice is so deep and his eyes are so smoldering, it feels like the command goes straight to your cunt. You are practically trembling with anticipation as your shaking hands  make quick work of the button, buckle, and zipper.

You can’t help but suck in a breath when his cock comes into view. He’s long and deliciously thick—big enough to be a little intimidating, but not overwhelmingly so.

He guides your hand to wrap around his shaft. He barely fits in your hand. “Look at what you’ve done to me,” he says, his voice raspy as he guides your hand to stroke his cock. “Feel how hard I am for you, feel how much I want you.”

His cock practically pulses with need, the tip slick with pre-come and you grasp him more firmly, your cunt pulsing as he gives a deeply satisfying groan.

You stroke him from base to tip, squeezing lightly. He groans again. “They told me to stay away from you, you know,” he says.

You aren’t so far gone that you can let this information slip by. “What? Who?”

“Stark. Rogers. Romanoff. My brother.” He reaches behind you and shoves the fruit and cutting board into the side, the knife clattering into the sink. “They saw how I looked at you,” he says. “They saw that I wanted you. They told me you were too good for me. Too sweet.”

You feel your jeans and underwear melt away in a shimmer of green and he lifts you easily onto the counter.

His eyes flash with desire. “I wonder what they’d say if they knew you’d let me fuck you raw in the middle of the kitchen?”

For a brief moment, frustration almost wins out over your lust. “We could have done this sooner?”

His gaze turns serious. “Darling, we could have done this the moment we met, but I’m told a handshake is more appropriate.”

You take a breath, about to embark on a rant about the individuals he’d named and how they hadn’t even asked, they’d just assumed, but Loki puts a hand up against your mouth.

“Don’t make me wait any longer,” he says. There’s a sincerity and a need in his gaze that you’ve never seen before and it’s enough to calm your anger for just a moment.

“Okay,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist and angling your hips toward his, “but clear your schedule because I’m gonna need you to fuck me a lot to make up for all that time.”

His grin is feral as he pushes into you.

You shiver at the blunt stretch of his cock, your hands gripping his broad shoulders. He indulges in a low groan as his hips press flush against yours.

“If I’d known they were keeping me from this tight cunt, I would’ve done something sooner,” he rasps. “You feel absolutely perfect.”

“Please,” you breathe, “I need—please.”

His hips snap hard against yours and you moan, your head tipping back.

His eyes glitter as he pulls you close, pressing his mouth against your ear. “The next time I have you, I will be sweet and soft.”

“And this time?” you ask, though you think you already know the answer.

“This time—” His mouth presses against the curve of your neck, teeth scraping just this side of too hard against the tender skin. “—I’m going to utterly ruin you.”

His pace is fast and rough—the word possessive comes to mind. You twist the luxurious fabric of his sweater in your hands as his cock hits that sweet, aching spot inside of you, pressing against your sensitive cunt in a way that makes your muscles spasm and clench around him. You moan, a shiver rolling through you as you inch closer to release.

“I’m…fuck, I’m getting close,” you gasp.

His pace abruptly slows and his grin is wide and his eyes are dancing with mirth when he raises his head from your shoulder.

“That was unnecessary,” you say with a scowl.

“Oh, I just want to savor you for a little longer, my love,” he purrs as he settles into an easy and slow pace that still makes your toes curl. “You’re going to take me right over the edge with you and I’ve waited so terribly long to have you.”

“I feel like you’re probably omitting the fact that you like being a tease,” you say.

He grins again, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Both things can be true.”

He does this a few times—taking up a wicked pace that almost sends you hurtling over the edge, only to slow at the last possible moment, silencing your whimpering protests with a deep and slow kiss that is good enough to make you forgive him until a few minutes later when he does it all over again.

You hold out for as long as you can, but eventually, the ache in your hips overwhelms you.

“Loki,” you breathe when his pace again begins to increase. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he rasps, somehow finding the concentration to raise an eyebrow. “You’re quite sure?”

You nod.

“You want to come all over my cock?”

Speech is slightly beyond you at this point, but you manage to gasp a desperate plea as you hurtle into the final plateau, right before the fall.

Loki regards you with that same playful look as he fucks you. You wait, unsure of what he’s going to do, your body desperately crying out for your release.

His lips curl into a smile. “Come for me, sweet thing.”

At the sound of his voice, every one of your muscles is tensing and releasing, the slick walls of your cunt clamping down hard on the thick girth of his cock as you shudder and moan.

The remnants of Loki’s composure are fraying, his eyes closed and his jaw slack as he chases his own end. His brow furrows and he throws his head back, letting out a low groan as he comes and you think it might be the best sound you’ve ever heard.

You sag against him as you both come down from your respective highs, his heart beating hard under the soft fabric of his sweater. He reaches for your face, tilting your head back so he can kiss you, impossibly slow and soft.

You’re in the middle of the kitchen. You understand this. In a wholly rational world, you would be quick to hop off the counter, quick to try and negotiate the return of your jeans from whatever pocket dimension he’s sent them to.

Instead, you find yourself wanting to stay in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, his cock still pulsing inside you as he kisses you breathless.

You count to ten, then twenty. At forty, you draw back slightly, only to have him pull you back into the kiss.

It’s somewhere after one hundred when he trails his lips to your neck and you manage to say what you intended: “We should probably…” you trail off as he sucks at your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine.

“We should probably what?” he murmurs against your neck, before tracing a lazy figure eight with the tip of his tongue.

It takes you a moment to find that sentence. “Get dressed and such.”

You feel the sharp press of his smile against your skin. “I think not.”

Before you can open your mouth to say anything, the kitchen is fading in a shimmer of green to an unfamiliar bedroom and the two of you tumble into a bed draped in green silk.

“I’d like to stay like this for a while,” he says, a smile playing at his lips as he slowly rolls his hips against you, somehow still impossibly hard. “In fact, I think I need to have you again.”

“I can live with that,” you say. You tug at the fabric of his sweater. “But this is going to have to go.”

His gaze is smoldering and his bare skin is suddenly pressed against yours as the sweater and the rest of your clothes disappear in that familiar shimmer of green.

“Will you like me as much without it?” he asks, rolling his hips against you.

You drag your fingernails up along the firm muscles of his back. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss you, “because as I understand it, we have quite a lot of time to make up for.”

[reidalert]

IT’S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY | spencer.reid

| spencer reid & fem!reader 3.1k words

| content: a case has you feeling helpless and guilty, and no matter who consoles you, nothing helps. maybe all you need is to take a break, but what if the break is being risky with dr. reid?

| warnings: mentions of death/kidnapping, flashback to the case, reader feeling vulnerable

| author’s note: i haven’t written in a longgg time and boy does it feel good to finally get these words out of my head. it feels like a privilege to get my writing spark back & i can’t wait to share all my ideas with you. i hope you enjoy reading <3

| masterlist

feedback and comments are highly appreciated!

You have thick skin.

Well, that’s what you say to anyone who asks if you’re okay.

But after today? After this case? You’re not sure if that’s true anymore. You don’t get affected easily, not when it comes to blood and gore. You’ve homed in on keeping your reactions and feelings at bay when it comes to that… but what happened out there? It’s made you feel helpless.

You knew from the minute JJ briefed you back at the BAU that this case was something you hadn’t dealt with before. Even Agent Hotchner had asked if you wanted to sit this one out.

But you said no. You wanted to get more experience to become a better profiler and a better agent. And it came at a cost.

You feel like an outsider. Like you’re watching yourself from an outside perspective as you go through airport security. The endless whir of machines and planes landing and taking off in the background do nothing for the thoughts racing in your mind.

You’re the last to be cleared and you know the others are watching you. Their eyes burning through your skin and doing what they do best. Profiling.

You don’t meet their gaze. You know as soon as you make eye contact with one of them, they’ll be asking you questions and it’ll make you torture yourself about whether you’re fit for this job. So, you make your way through the long and endless corridors until you’re at the gate for the jet.

The dull whirring of the jet engines helps you zone out. The leather seats are a cool comfort to your heated self.

Logically, it would make sense to let them know you’re not doing okay and that you need some time to yourself. But who are you kidding? You’re a thick skinned woman who can do anything… so you’ve made them believe.

You’re sitting on the farthest seat in the jet, right in the corner away from everyone else. You can’t deal with the questions you know they’re going to ask you.

But apparently, that doesn’t stop Agent Hotchner from taking the seat opposite you.

“I know what you’re gonna say.” You break the silence but continue staring out the oval window. The city lights below turn smaller and smaller as you progress through the flight.

“And what’s that?” Agent Hotchner asks. You’re not happy he’s here, invading your little self-pity bubble, but you do appreciate the way he keeps his voice quiet.

You shrug. “That something has upset me. Or that I’m too in my head about this case. Along those lines, anyway.”

Agent Hotchner regards you for a moment. You can feel his eyes staring at the side of your face as you purposefully stay looking out the window.

Because you know the second you make eye contact with him, he’ll see what’s going through your head. And he can’t.

“I gathered something was wrong.” His voice is low, a nice baritone that doesn't annoy you. “I know when someone in my team is different. And you’re different.”

You fight back the scoff that’s threatening to spill. “And what is that supposed to mean, Agent Hotchner?”

“Just…” he sighs. You’re very similar to Spencer Reid; in a way that you both struggle to admit when you need help. “If something is bothering you, I am here to listen.”

“Who says something is bothering me?” You kind of regret asking that question as you know damn well he’s about to go into an explanation of how he can see you’re upset.

He sits up a little straighter, hands clasped over his crossed knees. “You’re avoiding eye contact with me, your knuckles have turned white from how hard you’re gripping the arm rests—”

“That’s nothing—”

“You’re interrupting me. You don’t like being analysed as it makes you vulnerable. You haven’t eaten anything in the past,” Agent Hotchner checks his watch. “Six hours. Your stomach is warring against your emotions and you don’t like that. You’re sitting in a corner trying to push yourself away from other people.”

“Okay.” You bite out, now finally giving in to looking him dead in the eyes. “You’re a great profiler. No need to showboat.”

“I’m not showboating.”

You roll your eyes, “Sure seems like it.”

A minute or two pass in silence. Agent Hotchner is still staring at you and you feel incredibly small under his gaze. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything.” He fixes his shirt cuffs, acting so nonchalant as if he didn’t just profile one of his team members.

You grit your teeth. “Fine. Today messed with my head. That case was… it was wrong. So wrong that I can’t stop thinking about how I could have helped that family.”

Agent Hotchner leans forward, gently placing his hand upon your own on the arm rest. You feel your grip loosen and you fight back a grimace at how cold his hand feels against your warm one. “It’s not your fault. We all know we could have done something different out there, but sometimes the unsub takes a surprise route. Things like this happen and it’s unfortunate, but don’t blame yourself.”

You shrug again, avoiding eye contact once again. “Yeah.”

He stands, pulling his suit jacket to fit more comfortably. “If you need to talk to someone, come to my office.”

You only offer a silent nod in answer.

“Oh, and Agent L/N? Stop calling me Agent Hotchner, Hotch is just fine.” He offers a small smile and you shake your head, going back to staring out the window until your eyes feel too heavy to keep open.

“Why is there so much paperwork?” Your voice comes out all agitated as you rifle through a stupid amount of folders and loose paper.

Emily peeks over the cubicle dividing and raises an eyebrow. “You okay there?”

You sigh, slumping down onto your desk chair, spinning until you’re facing her side of the cubicle. “Do I sound okay to you? Who in their right mind decided to give me the goddamn paperwork for that goddamned case?” You glance around the wide room, trying to find JJ; this has to be her doing.

Emily purses her lips, “Doing paperwork isn’t that bad, Y/N. I mean, I guess there’s a lot but it’ll make the day go by quicker.”

“Oh, please.” You scoff, feeling yourself grow more annoyed by the minute. You know you need to get yourself in check, but the past 24 hours have ridden you like the Grim Reaper is taking jockey lessons in Hell.

“What’s got Little Miss Thick Skin so angry today?” Derek Morgan walks up to your desk, a hot mug of coffee in his hand. A brief thought had you biting your lip— it’d be wrong to spill it on him.

“Don’t start, please.” You rest your elbows on your desk, hands holding either side of your face as you stare at the paperwork. The names of the family you couldn’t save stare right back at you. Your stomach drops and you’re not sure how long you can stay in this office.

“Hey,” Derek places his mug on your desk before crouching down to your eye level. “What’s wrong, girl? If you don’t want to do the paperwork, I can take it off your hands. No big deal.”

You shake your head, “Don’t bother. I’m fine.”

Derek watches your face and you turn your head to look at him. “If you start profiling me, Morgan, I swear to God that coffee mug will end up in a place you really don’t want it.”

Derek chuckles and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, girl. Just tryna help ya out.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need help. I’m fine.” You scoot your desk chair closer and grab the closest pen, tapping it against the top of your desk to distract you from the fact you have to relive this case just a day later.

You don’t catch it, but Derek and Emily share a knowing look. They’ve seen this before. It’s not hard to notice someone you spend days on end with is struggling.

Derek grabs his mug and pats you on the shoulder. Emily sinks back into her cubicle and makes sure to keep an eye on during the day. If she finds you with smoke coming out of your ears, she’ll go get the fire extinguisher.

Your hand cramps as you write your final notes. The computer screen has turned too bright for your eyes and a headache begins to form behind your eyes. It’s been a long day.

Clicking the pen closed, you lean back against your chair with a deep sigh. You close your eyes just to rest them for a brief moment and scenes from yesterday plague you.

It’s like you can’t escape.

Your heart rate picks up speed. You’re not sure how it turned into a game of cat and mouse, but you’re adamant on putting a stop to it.

“What does he think he’s doing?” You’re standing with your palms pressed against a conference table in a police station in Washington. The projector casts a live shot of the news— a helicopter is chasing after the unsub in a car. The family you’re trying to protect is with him.

“He’s trying to flee.” Agent Rossi says, so matter of factly that it has you turning your attention to him instead.

You squint at him. “You saw this coming, didn’t you?”

He gestures to the screen. “You didn’t?”

“No, I did not.” You grit your teeth, moving so you’re now standing up straight. “I predicted he’d do something out of the blue. We all did. But we didn’t know he was going to kidnap them. That wasn’t part of his game.”

Rossi shrugs, “I’ve been in this job longer than you have, kiddo. It takes experience to know something like this. Don’t blame yourself.”

“What?” You let out a disbelieving scoff. “Listen here old man—”

“That’s enough.” Agent Hotchner cuts through your words, ending your little spat with Rossi. “We’re all here to do a job. So let’s do it.”

Faint footsteps sound behind you. You’re not sure who’s still in the office, but considering how late it is, there’s only a few people that come to mind.

“Hey, what are you doing here so late?” That all too recognisable voice makes your heart swoop. Spencer appears in your line of vision, his man-bag crossed over his torso. He looks ready to leave. “It’s nearly 7PM.”

“Oh.” You glance at the clock mounted on the wall. You didn’t realise that you were doing the paperwork for the Washington case for nearly 10 hours. “Guess I lost track of time.”

Spencer regards you for a minute. “Everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You offer a weak smile, not trying to be bitchy to him like you were to the others earlier. You make a mental note to apologise to them tomorrow.

“It’s just— nevermind.” He shakes his head.

Your brows furrow, “No, what is it?”

“Ever since we got on that plane yesterday, you’ve been hostile.” Spencer rocks back and forth on his heels. “I know you don’t like to be profiled, I don’t either, but I know something is wrong.”

You twist in your chair, facing your computer screen with your hands hovering over the keyboard. You don’t want to talk about it, you just want to figure it out on your own.

“Y/N?” Spencer says your name and you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes all sparkly, his cheeks smooth, his lips… perfect.

You blink slowly. Your head isn’t in the right place, but your heart (and hormones) are.

You internally say fuck it and reach for the strap of his man-bag to pull him down to your level. Your breaths mingle and your eyes dart in a triangle from one eye to his lips to his other eye. And lo and behold, the triangle method actually works because Spencer leans in and you feel his lips ghost over your own.

And nothing.

He just stays in that position. Hunched down in your grip, lips mere millimetres away from your own and he doesn’t finish the job.

You breathe in a deep sigh, your senses being filled with his scent. “Why aren’t you kissing me?”

“I— I think it’s because I know you’re not yourself. It feels wrong.” Spencer's breath is minty as it fans over your cheeks and neck. You want to say something snarky, but you know he’s right. “I do want to kiss you, though. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now.”

You lean back a little, your eyes staring into his pretty brown ones. You don’t see a sign of a lie and your heart skips a beat. “Would it help if I admitted what’s going on? Would you kiss me then?” God, are you really that desperate to get kissed by Spencer Reid? Yes. Yes you are.

Spencer lowers into a crouch, one hand grips the armrest of your desk chair, whilst the other splays across your knee with a gentle squeeze. “If it helps you, then it’ll help me. Talk to me. Let me inside your pretty head.”

You reach out for his tie, fiddling with it to help your nerves. “You know I don’t like talking about how I feel, but this is something I can’t keep to myself anymore.”

Spencer nods, his hand on your knee giving you another squeeze. But this time in a reassuring way. That’s your go ahead sign to lay it all down.

“That case we did. The family where we couldn’t save them, where I couldn’t save them, keeps replaying in my head and I don’t know what to do to stop it.” You take a breath, your fingers still playing with his tie. “If we got there sooner, I know we could have stopped him from hurting them. From killing them. I feel like if I did or said something right or helpful, I could’ve saved them. I hate feeling like this because I know it isn’t my fault, but I just can’t help but feel guilty.”

Spencer stays quiet, letting your words sink in. “You’re right, it isn’t your fault.”

You sigh, dropping his tie and moving your attention to his face. To his lips.

“I wish I could go back in time and help.” You admit, feeling a small weight lift from your shoulders.

“I wish for that, too.” Spencer admits as well. Both of you find comfort in knowing you feel the same. It makes feeling like this just the little bit easier to deal with. “Thank you for sharing how you feel.”

You let out a small laugh. “Thank you for not dismissing me.”

“I could never dismiss you.” Spencer’s voice is soft and warm. His fingers slowly trail up and down your calf, sending a shiver through your body. “Would you like that kiss now?” The smirk on his lips has your stomach flipping and you want nothing more than for his lips to be on yours.

“I would very much like that kiss now.” You smile at him, leaning in and already feeling your body succumb to him. When your lips meet, you sigh. You’ve missed being able to be physical with him; it’s hard trying to stay colleagues when all you want is to be wrapped up in his arms.

Spencer lets his hands travel— up your thighs, round your back, cheekily up the hem of your dress. You moan lightly into his mouth and he swallows it.

Your hands grab for his collar to deepen the kiss. “More.” You mumble against his lips and he complies. Spencer bites your bottom lip to elicit a gasp from you so he can dive his tongue down your throat with ease.

You feel yourself involuntarily squeezing your thighs to quell the ache forming between your legs. God, you’d do anything to take him home with you right now.

Before you get a chance to start undoing his tie, a loud and clear cough comes from your right.

You stop moving but Spencer keeps going. Trailing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, you now get a perfect view of Hotch standing outside his office with his arms crossed. You can’t make out what his face is portraying.

“Spence.” You tug on his collar, but he thinks you want him to go further. You feel his tongue lick a stripe up the column of your neck and you have to fight back a whimper.

You’d die on the spot if you let Aaron Hotchner hear you moaning.

“No. Spencer.” This time you push at his shoulders and the look he gives you makes you feel bad. But if you let him carry on, both of you would never be able to be in Hotch’s presence. Ever.

“Are you okay?” Spencer brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Did I do something you didn’t like?”

You shake your head, your fingers quickly straightening out Spencer's tie. “I loved it. You were good, but, um…” your eyes drift off to where Hotch is still standing.

It’s as if Spencer was zapped by lightning. He shoots back away from you, and somehow manages to hit every piece of furniture around him. You want to laugh but this situation doesn’t call for laughing. You’ve been caught by your boss making out in the middle of the BAU.

“Reid, L/N. Care to explain?” Hotch moves slowly down the stairs, his aura too strong for you to look him in the eyes right now.

You twiddle your thumbs. “He was just helping me finish this file report from the case yesterday.”

Hotch looks at Spencer, knowing that he’ll blab the truth. “She was upset about not being able to save them and I wanted to help ease her pain and—”

“That’s enough.” Hotch raises a hand. “Since it’s past working hours, I’ll make a one time allowance for this behaviour.”

You have a big sigh of relief and Spencer lets out an audible groan of embarrassment. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re right. It won’t.” Hotch checks his watch and frowns. “I’m late for something. Finish that report and I’ll see you both tomorrow. Behaving correctly.”

You nod your head and Spencer keeps his head down staring at the floor. You watch Hotch leave the office and you finally let out your cringing grimace. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know he was here. I thought he left already.”

“I can’t be mad. I got to kiss the prettiest girl in here.”

“Shut up.”

Copyright credit to @reidalert as of 2024-present.

[charliemwrites]

Part 6 of SpecGru (former 141) reader; Simon’s perspective again.

Content: brief implication/mention of reader having idle suicidal ideation. In the way of “I don’t care if something happens to me” kind of way. Happens during a phone call between Price and reader’s new captain.

Please be careful and safe. If someone needs this part summarized, let me know. I love you all very much <3

Here’s the truth of it: Simon never meant for you to leave.

You were too close, that was true. He did everything short of actually hurting you to drive you away. Treated you like a plaything, took your kindness and patience and feelings for him for granted. Left you cold and alone in a hospital bed — unable to see you pale and half-dead all because you were so goddamn headstrong…

That had put it all in vicious perspective. That he couldn’t keep you safe; knowing him, following him, would surely end with you on a metal table rather than a clean hospital bed.

In hindsight, he knows it was as much for his own sake as yours, trying to force that emotional distance between you two. But he just… he can’t do it. Not again. Not you. You’d break him.

But he never meant for you to leave. Not really.

Maybe take an extended solo mission. Or just break off the romance of it all. Maybe you’d stay away for a while, give him time to sort out his feelings and shove the useless ones back into the pit they belong in.

He didn’t expect you to be gone as soon as you could stand.

“You said yourself, Simon, she’s too young and reckless. The 141 can’t afford to babysit her,” Price explained.

“She nearly got you killed, LT,” Soap pointed out. That was before he found out that you were gone for good, not just on disciplinary leave.

And when he did…

“No. No, she dinnae…” he wiped a hand down his face, eyes going a bit glassy. “Why? Why would she… didn’t we mean anythin’ to her? I know we were all a bit on the rocks but ‘s just cos she gave us a scare…”

Gaz took it the hardest, showing up most morning with red-rimmed, puffy eyes. He tried texting you a hundred times; they never went through.

He and Soap begged Price to reconsider, saying that he had no right to kick you out without consulting the rest of the squad.

“I just told her that she should consider transfer,” Price corrected, steely.

“Same fuckin’ thing, ain’t it?” Soap raged. “What else ‘s she gonna do when it’s her captain sayin’ it?”

And Price had finally crumbled, his stubbornness giving way to a clearer head and regret in the aftermath. Simon knew how he felt; had been haunted with the same gut-wrenching feeling for two weeks by that point.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have…” he wiped a hand down his face. “I’ll call Laswell, see if she can put us through.”

As it turned out, your new team had deployed you almost immediately. You were gone, relying on teammates you barely knew, and there was no guarantee when (or even if) you’d be reachable again.

When Laswell put Price through to your new captain instead, he scoffed down the line.

“That how the great John Price sends off his own?” He gruffed.

“I take care of my own,” Price replied, narrow-eyed.

“That’s explains it then, doesn’t it?” A shifting on the other end. “Well, she’s one of mine now, at least; better off that way I think.”

He was on speaker phone with the SpecGru captain. Shouldn’t have been, but it wasn’t a confidential call. So the rest of the 141 was there, vibrating with the effort to stay quiet.

Simon balled his hands into fists, arms crossed. He didn’t trust anyone with one of theirs. No, you belonged right there with the rest of the 141. They could keep you safe, keep you alive.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Price growled.

“Let me just ask you this, Price. And only because I need to know how to take care of her.” A pause, shuffling of papers. Something heavy and almost… hesitant in the silence before- “Did she always have this DNR order?”

Price’s office turned to ice. Simon’s entire shuddered, cored out. The arm of the chair Soap was occupying cracked. Gaz’s hand was covering his mouth, blood draining from his face.

“No,” Price answered, voice little more than rust.

A grunt on the other end.

“Thanks for the insight,” your new captain replied, sounding nonplussed. “At least you were good for something.”

The line droned, dead.

—

You’re standing with the rest of SpecGru, beaming like each and every one of them hung a star just for you. They orbit like you’re the sun, even Nikto, holding you in his arms, letting you lean back against him.

(You used to look at Simon like that. Used to let him hug you like that on the occasion he was weak and gave into the temptation to hold you.)

Every time he looks at you, it’s like a stranger with your face all over again.

You hold your shoulders differently. Tilt your head different. Have a certain control over your facial features better than any mask Simon’s donned.

Today you’re dressed down from your tac uniform. Specifically, your long-sleeve thermal has been replaced by a sleeveless gym shirt. It reveals that tattoo he caught only a glimpse of before — a big, intricate thing from your shoulder down your wrist.

(He and Johnny were going to go with you for your first tattoo. You asked them for all sort of recommendations. Enjoyed tracing Simon’s sleeve when he let you.)

There are more scars too. Burns, bullet grazes, jagged knife marks and patches from bad scrapes.

Nova is finishing up the wrapping on your hand, the other already done. You’re listening to something Russ is spouting off about, whatever it is making you laugh loud enough to be heard where Simon is lurking.

“C’mon,” Johnny says, bumping shoulders with Simon. “Know we fucked up yesterday, but we can try again. Maybe letting her beat the shite out of us will help clear the air, aye?”

Simon forces himself to look away. He already knows you won’t be glancing over.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Maybe.”

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Masterlist

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

𝐻𝐸𝒜𝒟𝒞𝒜𝒩𝒪𝒩-𝒩𝐼𝒞𝐻𝒪𝐿𝒜𝒮 𝒜𝐿𝐸𝒳𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐸𝑅 𝒞𝐻𝒜𝒱𝐸𝒵 𝒜𝒮 𝒜 𝐵𝒪𝒴𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟

Boyfriend!Nicholas seems to value genuine connections and would likely be the kind of boyfriend who truly listens. He’d remember the small things, your favorite coffee order, a random story you told, or a passing comment about something you love. Whether you’re having a tough day or celebrating a big achievement, he'd be right there with you, offering his full attention.

Boyfriend!Nicholas seems like he enjoys trying new things and living in the moment. He’d want to plan spontaneous weekend getaways or try out new activities together, from hiking to going to concerts. He’d probably be open to exploring both your interests and his, making life feel exciting and unpredictable.

While he may come across as laid back in real life, I imagine Boyfriend!Nicholas as a boyfriend would have a romantic side. He’d surprise you with handwritten notes, flowers "just because," or plan cozy nights where you can binge watch your favorite shows together. The little gestures would mean a lot to him.

Despite his growing fame, he seems pretty grounded and humble. In a relationship, he’d value honesty and clear communication. Boyfriend!Nicholas wouldn’t play games or leave you guessing how he feels; instead, he’d be direct but kind, always working to build a strong foundation of trust.

Boyfriend!Nicholas would be the type of boyfriend who encourages you to chase your dreams and passions. Whether it's supporting your career goals, a personal project, or a hobby, he’d be your biggest cheerleader, helping you stay motivated and believing in you when you doubt yourself.

Boyfriend!Nicholas strikes me as someone who balances being serious and having fun. There would be deep, late night conversations about life and what you both want out of it, but there would also be moments where he just makes you laugh, doing silly impressions or cracking inside jokes.

While not overbearing, Boyfriend!Nicholas would be protective of you in a thoughtful way. He’d be the kind of boyfriend who makes sure you feel safe and respected, standing up for you if needed but never smothering you.

Beyond emotional support, Boyfriend!Nicholas would value meaningful conversations. He’d enjoy discussing books, films, and philosophies that provoke deep thought. He’d ask about your perspectives on things, showing genuine interest in how you see the world. Whether it's debating a plot twist in a show or discussing current events, your intellectual bond would be just as strong as your emotional one.

Boyfriend!Nicholas would definitely have a playful side, teasing you in a lighthearted, affectionate way. He’d make silly bets or jokingly challenge you to random games, like seeing who can cook the best meal or who’s better at a particular sport. He’d probably have a mischievous smile when he’s trying to get you to laugh, making the relationship feel lively and fun.

Boyfriend!Nicholas seems like someone who deeply values family. He’d be the kind of boyfriend who’s excited for you to meet his family and would take an active interest in getting to know yours. He'd likely enjoy spending time at family gatherings and might even get involved in family traditions, showing respect for what’s important to you.

Boyfriend!Nicholas might express his love through acts of service. Whether it’s picking up your favorite snacks after a long day, helping with something you're stressed about, or offering to take care of a task you’ve been dreading, he’d find small ways to make your life easier. His kindness would often show up in practical ways.

Because Boyfriend!Nicholas is artistic and has a background in acting, he’d probably enjoy adding a creative flair to the relationship. Maybe he’d write you a poem, record a cute video message when you’re apart, or plan a surprise date that’s inspired by a favorite movie or shared memory. His creativity would keep the relationship exciting and unpredictable.

Boyfriend!Nicholas would be the kind of boyfriend who fully supports your independence. He’d encourage you to take time for yourself and pursue your own interests and friendships outside of the relationship. He’d understand the importance of maintaining individuality while also building something strong together, never wanting to make you feel smothered or confined.

Boyfriend!Nicholas would likely approach conflict with a calm and patient demeanor. If you ever argued, he’d want to talk things through thoughtfully rather than reacting impulsively. He’d make sure that both sides are heard and understood, always striving for a resolution that makes you both feel good about the relationship.

Being someone who seems focused on self care, he’d probably be a positive influence when it comes to living a healthy lifestyle. Boyfriend!Nicholas wouldn’t push it on you but might encourage activities like working out together, eating well, or practicing mindfulness. He’d want you to feel good, physically and mentally, and would be there to support you in that journey.

Though Boyfriend!Nicholas might have a bit of an adventurous streak, suggesting hikes, spontaneous road trips, or trying out new experiences, he’d also have a soft, homebody side. He’d enjoy the balance of adventure and quiet nights in, where you could unwind together with a good movie or book, showing that he doesn’t always need excitement to feel connected.

Boyfriend!Nicholas would likely be someone who fully respects and supports your ambitions. He’d understand if you have busy schedules or demanding projects, and he’d never want to hold you back. In fact, he’d be there to remind you of your strengths when you feel uncertain and would always celebrate your achievements as if they were his own.

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

random messages from the tarot

so, this is a short pac reading with no theme, anything essencial will show up on this readings. feel free to pick more than one pile <3

pile 1 pile 2

pile 3 pile 4

images from pinterest and dividers by @fairytopea

꒰ঌ ✦ scroll down for the results ໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ

-ˋˏ ༻ ❁ Masterpost and Tarot Menu ❁༺ ˎˊ-

*˚‧͙✧ PILE ONE ✧‧͙⁺*

During this very moment of your life, you need to stop expecting good fortune and luck to be on your side when you are thinking about taking any kind of new direction. It’s understandable that hope might be a great motivator for you, but you are limiting yourself if you’re ignoring how important are your own actions and your virtues, things that go well in your life, are not because of good luck, they go well because you did well. If you focus on developing your skills and your confidence, you will achieve a lot and actually enjoy those achievements without any sort of impostor syndrome.  Please understand that anything good that happens to you, in your case, is a reflection of what you do on your own in order to keep the abundance and the positive energy coming your way.

*˚‧͙✧ PILE TWO ✧‧͙⁺*

I get this feeling you are watching yourself detach from your own emotions and you are not sure what to do about it. When it comes to feelings of anxiety or sadness, it’s common to want to detach, or ignore them, but at some point this can happen sort of by accident, you know you’re feeling bad, but you don’t quite feel it sometimes. What I can say about this is that: try to deal with this by being deeply conscious on how and why these feelings are being ignored, don’t focus too much on what is causing them right now, but instead focus on why you are not allowing yourself to experience something completely human: feelings. Try to understand them as ways in which your mind and body communicates the needs you’re unconsciously ignoring. And please ask for help if you need to.

*˚‧͙✧ PILE THREE ✧‧͙⁺*

It’s time to stop being resentful with your past self, and /or the people who hurt you.  You’re carrying way too much baggage that is affecting your decision making skills, usually taking you to places and people that are far too similar to the situations that got you the baggage in your first place. This is a great moment to begin healing journeys aimed to allow yourself to have a deeper comprehension on your past, by taking a more objective look on it and being more understanding with your old self, more patient and comprehensive. For you, it’s necessary to see what thought are behavioural patterns are keeping you away from moving on from the past.

*˚‧͙✧ PILE FOUR ✧‧͙⁺*

You’re going to experience a lot of creative energy and fast changes soon. It’s key that you can embrace the fun yet chaotic but overall positive experiences that’ll come your way. These are not only meant to give you new perspectives and new opportunities regarding the material aspects of your life, but they’re also a manifestation of your own energy changing and attracting both positive and negative challenges. You will be put in situations where your passions will become a great source of guidance and hope, while becoming more and more present in your life. Expect new people wanting to approach you during a time of change and evolution like this, some come to help, some to test you, some will stay and others not.

hi, i'm gigi :)

i hope you enjoyed this readings and hopefully found something useful. check my masterpost if you want to know more about this blog or if you want to keep reading some more PACs. also, my bookings for personal readings are open!! so don't hesitate to take a quick look at my tarot menu if you're interested in that.

as usual, im thankful for all the good vibes on here, i hope everyone can get something out of this blog!! i'm really struggling to get consistent with posting since i prioritize my job as a tarot reader on an app and doing personal readings from here (and omg thanks to everyone who trusts me with that and thanks to everyone who books).

so yeah, thats pretty much it.

much love, gigi <3

[writeyouin]

Bumblebee X Reader – Returned

Description – When Optimus told Bumblebee to fake his death, Bumblebee followed orders, choosing his loyalty to his leader over his love for you. Now, after returning to Earth, he regrets that decision and is trying to win you back.

A/N – Just a little Earthspark scenario I had in my head for a while. It changed somewhat when written down, but I like it.

Warnings – Mild angst (happy ending).

Rating – T

Bumblebee glanced at you, quickly looking back at Optimus when you met his gaze. From there on out, his optics stayed firmly fixed on his leader, too afraid of what he might see in your eyes.

The two of you had been in love once. Then, Optimus ordered Bumblebee to fake his death and to leave Earth. At the time, Bumblebee had asked about you, his spark-mate, but Optimus forbade him from telling even you about his mission. At the time, it had seemed reasonable, but now seeing you again, older, sadder, different yet somewhat similar, Bumblebee wished he had fought harder to keep you in his life. Granted, he valued little over Optimus’ leadership, but even great leaders could be wrong every once in a while.

“Meeting adjourned,” Optimus finished, having re-acquainted the team with Bumblebee and provided him with his mission with the Maltos.

It was then that Bumblebee knew he had to say something to you, an apology, a request to talk, anything, but when he looked over, you were already walking away.

“(Y/N),” He called your name and you stopped at your car, waiting silently for him to say what he had to say.

Bumblebee hadn’t expected the silent treatment. That was somehow worse than if you began screaming at him.

“I- I’m glad to see you again,” Bumblebee started hopefully, but by the way your expression closed off, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. “Look, I-” He went quiet as a Megatron drove past, feelin suddenly paranoid that a GHOST Agent might have followed the ex-warlord.

“I don’t have long,” He sighed. “But I’ll meet you at your place and we can talk.”

“Oh, can we?” You said, clapping your hands together sarcastically. “The great and almighty Bumblebee has time to talk to me?”

“Uhh,” Bumblebee stepped back nervously, even though there was nothing you could do to hurt him; your sharp demeanour was enough to make him nervous. “(Y/N), I-”

“I thought you were dead!” You huffed, tears in your eyes as you glared up at him, wishing you could be happy that he was back, but pained by the fact he had chosen isolation over you. “There was a funeral for you and I had to stand by as Optimus read your final rites. Oh, but silly me. You were alive all along and he knew it. That must have been a good laugh for the two of you.”

Bumblebee was speechless as you wrapped your arms around yourself, a sign you were feeling vulnerable.

“I loved you Bumblebee, and I would have done anything for you… I would have waited for you or gone to that damned space station with you. But I guess that was just me being naïve. You just didn’t feel the same, did you? I guess I wasn’t worth fighting for.”

Bumblebee reached his hand towards you, “(Y/N)-”

“Leave me alone Bee. Just do your mission and whatever else Optimus tells you. You’re good at that.” With that, you got into your car and drove away, heading home where you would be able to cry over all you had learned.

Bumblebee found the following weeks almost unbearable. He worked with the Malto-Bots. You also visited the Malto’s homestead from time to time, teaching the young bots about life on Earth and culture from your perspective; it helped the younglings to have someone else around who they weren’t related to, to listen to their problems, offer guidance, and generally be there for them.

Yet, when you visited, you were quiet and shut off around Bumblebee, treating him with professional courtesy and nothing more. Sometimes, it seemed like you hated him, but then your mask would slip and you would say something kind, reminisce over a private moment with him or laugh at one of his jokes only to excuse yourself afterwards and go back to that cool professionalism which he hated.

He knew he had hurt you and he couldn’t expect things to go back exactly the way they were. He had changed, as had you, but by Primus, he wanted you back. Well, if that was going to happen, then he knew he had to go back to basics. Flowers and a moonlit walk were a good place to start. It wouldn’t solve all of your shared problems, but it would make his intentions clear and hopefully break the ice that had formed in the years you had been apart.

Bumblebee held the bouquet he had picked for you by his side, trying not to gesture too wildly while he practised his speech on the walk to the farmhouse GHOST had provided for you.

“I think you should try forgiving me-” He shook his helm, “No, that sounds like I’m blaming them. Okay, things have been hard the last few years but I think we should give it another shot and- That’s not it.”

Bumblebee vented air through his systems, taking a minute before trying again, all too aware he was running out of time to practice, “Look (Y/N), we still have to work together, and if we’re working together you can stand to be around me and-”

“And you think that’s a good enough reason to get back together?” You said incredulously, startling Bumblebee as you stepped out of your car.

“(Y/N)! Uh, no- I mean- I wanted to- That wasn’t the final speech- I thought you were inside,” He pointed accusingly at your house, stammering, “I-I mean, I was supposed to have more time and- and- These are for you!” He thrust his servo at you, showing off his bouquet.

You raised an eyebrow bemusedly, “That’s ragwort.”

“Yes?” Bumblebee agreed uncertainly, hoping you liked ragwort since you knew what it was.

“It’s poisonous.”

“ARGH!” Bumblebee threw the weeds to the ground, crushing them with his pede. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Obviously.”

“Are you mad?”

You allowed yourself a small mirthful smile, “At this? No.”

“And at me?”

Your smile faded, “Jury’s still out. It depends on what you’re going to say in the final draft of that speech you were practising.”

“Right…” Bumblebee deflated. He didn’t know what he was going to say. He expected that the right words would come out, just like they used to when he visited you in days long gone. He opened his mouth, trusting his spark to lead him to the right words, “I- I miss you.”

You looked sad at that. “I know, Bee. I miss you too, but it’s not enough. I’m sorry.”

You turned away from him, ready to retire inside for the night.

“Wait,” Bumblebee begged, “Please.”

You hesitated, giving him your full attention, despite the pain he was causing you.

“I miss you,” He said again. “I miss us. I wish I could turn back the clock and that I’d fought harder for you but… But I can’t. All I can do is try to make things right, now. I was an idiot back then. I’m still kind of an idiot, but I want us to be together and I want to fight for this. Please, just tell me there’s a chance and I’ll do anything. I love you. I always have.”

You stared up at Bumblebee warily, wanting to lower your defences but scared that if you did, he would leave you again or worse, that he might actually die this time. Yet, as you opened your mouth to reject him, the words wouldn’t come out.

However, you couldn’t readily accept him either. Your relationship with him was in an odd state of limbo. There was too much history to start anew, but you couldn’t simply pick up where you left off.

Looking into Bumblebee’s desperate optics, you knew you had to make a decision immediately.

You sighed, “Look, I’m not promising anything but let’s- Let’s go for a walk and see where the night takes us.”

Bumblebee’s expression lightened, a smile forming that made your heart flutter with a whirlwind of happy memories. Just like that, you knew that he would win you back, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t make him work to build up your trust in him first.

[revehae]

day and night (1)

pairing ↠ jeno x (f) reader x haechan

genre .. warnings ↠ noncon, abduction, use of a gun, bondage, unprotected sex, slapping

summary ↠ haechan is one of the sweetest guys you’ve ever met and a pleasure to tutor, but your perspective of him changes forever when you wake up in a foreign room tied to the bed; and only haechan and his team captain jeno are to blame.

wc ↠ 2.5k

a/n ↠ this is part one of a repost! i don’t have the original banner anymore if it matters pls don’t shoot me. here’s part two

don’t like it, don’t read.

maybe all of the signs had been staring you dead in the face - the shy glances haechan casted you, only to glance off as swiftly as possible the moment you caught him staring. the way he always blushed whenever you praised his efforts or called him smart. how he was always so curious about you, and maybe his cute face and innocent smile had lured you into telling him a little more than you should have.

after all, he was merely a stranger before you agreed to tutor him. just the cute boy in class that did his work and kept quiet, and was only found to be close with his fellow teammates on the baseball team. 

but you thought that it only meant he had an innocent crush on you. never did you imagine that all of it would culminate in this way. that you would wake up in an unfamiliar room with haechan towering above you. 

“you’re awake,” haechan whispered, more inwardly, as if he meant to keep the words inside of his head. 

you glanced around, nothing short of confused. the bedroom was quite clearly not yours. for one, the bed you were lying on is much bigger and comfortable. second of all, it’s so much more decorative, looking more like your ideal bedroom than the one you actually own. it’s filled with your favorite colors, posters of your favorite musical artists, and things alike. almost as if you designed the room yourself. but you knew you didn’t. 

when you tried to sit up, you were forced right back in place. you glanced up and realized that your wrists were bound. the feeling of the rope digging into your skin made you grimace. haechan’s eyes flashed with arm, and he rushed to your side. “is it too tight?” as soon as you nodded, haechan went to loosen the ropes. not enough so that you could free yourself from them, of course, but enough so that it wouldn’t be prying into your skin. “better?” he asked. you gave him another nod, and he sported his signature cute smile. you only wished that you could still trust it.

merely seconds later, haechan made another move. he seemed to be pensive and mull his decision over, taking one step forward, then another back, and then he made a few more forward until he was right at the edge of the bed. he reached for your shorts, and in an instant you realized what he was trying to do. you tried to kick, but he held your legs carefully, trying not to hurt you in spite of your attempts to kick him away. “please don’t do this, haechan,” you whimpered, shaking your head. your throat hurt when you tried to talk and your breath picked up a rapid pace to the point where you almost couldn’t breathe. 

haechan frowned, but he didn’t let up. “i have to - i’m sorry,” he said quietly. 

your brain immediately began to think of reasons why he would have to do something this terrible to you. why he would have to kidnap you and lock you inside of some bedroom, presumably in his house. you had never been. all of the studying sessions took place at yours, and he had all of the time in the world to learn every little thing there was to know about you that made you vulnerable to this kind of situation, simply by paying attention. then, it occurred to you exactly how you had been abducted - belt wrapped around your throat from the backseat of your car, until you eventually lost consciousness. that didn’t seem like haechan’s M.O, though. sure he was stronger than you, that much was obvious from the fact that he was holding your legs in place, but even then, he was gentle. the ambush in your car was anything but, betraying every effort of preserving your comfort that haechan had put forth. and then, it clicked. haechan l wasn’t the one that had kidnapped you.

then, who had?

“did someone put you up to this?” you questioned, trying hard to ignore the burn around your neck. the belt was no longer there, but the pain lingered. as soon as the question left your mouth, haechan seemed to freeze, and you knew by now that that meant you had hit the nail on the head. haechan was merely someone’s partner in crime, but you couldn’t imagine who. someone from the baseball team? i don’t even know anyone else from the baseball team. “who… who, hyuck? you can tell me.”

he only shook his head. “i can’t.” 

you bit your lip. “is it someone from the team? you don’t have to do this, hyuck. you can let me go.”

haechan was still hesitant, but his reluctance didn’t side with you this time. unless, he was telling the cold, hard truth when he replied, “no one forced me to do anything.”

you didn’t want to believe that. it made you sick to your stomach to think that haechan was fully willing to do something like this to you. 

“come on, donghyuck.”

“he’s right,” added another voice, deep enough for you to tell that it obviously didn’t belong to haechan. your vision panned to the doorway, where the last person you thought you’d see appeared - lee jeno, captain of the baseball team. “this was a group effort. teamwork, if you will.”

“jeno…” 

jeno lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers before stepping in the room, “that’s me,” he announced, smiling. it wasn’t sweet or even kind, though of course you were biased in that description; he was the one pulling all of the strings. it was… victorious. like the prideful smiles he sported after winning a championship game, when people would flock towards him with their congratulations and asking him how it felt to be so utterly undefeated. at least then, you thought he was respectable. he never acted as if he carried all of the weight, never forgetting to mention that it was teamwork that rewarded him with a victory. but now he was looking at you as if he had won possession over you, and you felt nauseous. 

jeno glanced at haechan with a displeased look, chiding, “haven’t even gotten the bitch naked yet? what good are you for?”

haechan hung his head and whispered, “sorry.” 

jeno sighed and shook his head, then began to walk towards you. and that was when you began to panic. when you were alone with haechan, you felt a tad bit safer, considering you had at least trusted him at one point and he was gentle with you, but jeno wasn’t like that. you didn’t know him personally, but he worked hard, played hard, and nothing about him was ever soft. he reached for something inside of the bedside drawer, and your eyes went round when you realized that it was a knife. he leaned towards you and shut your eyes, begging, “jeno, please don’t hurt me, please, i’ll do whatever you want.”

the man in question tilted his head. “whatever i want?”

tears rolling down your cheeks, you nodded. your eyes only opened again once you heard something rip and your skin suddenly felt cold. jeno had tore your shirt apart with his knife and the air was hitting your bare skin. your chest heaved as you made eye contact with him, so much fear in yours and so much power in his.

jeno dragged the knife down your abdomen and to your underwear. you held your breath when you felt the cold edge of the knife against your bare skin, and soon it was slitting your underwear open. he wasn’t as careful as haechan, and the only reason his pace was even relatively slow was because he knew it would unnerve you. he asked through thick breath, “will you give me something?”

you gulped, mouth going dry. you knew what he wanted. it was clear as day - what both of them wanted. 

carelessly, jeno threw the broken pieces of fabric somewhere across the floor and ran a finger over your cunt. instantly you squirmed, trying to pry your legs shut, and you managed to land a kick on jeno. “you fucking bitch,” he spat, visibly now upset. he stormed over to the uppermost end of the bed and tightened the ropes around your arms again in punishment, satisfied when you let out a loud noise of pain and discomfort. 

“hurts?” 

you nodded, lips trembling. 

jeno snickered and moved back to the other end of the bed. “good.” 

he shot haechan a look and he swooped over, holding your legs spread. never had you ever felt so helpless and betrayed. you just couldn’t believe that this was happening, couldn’t fathom why it was happening to you.

“i don’t want this,” you croaked, hoping that maybe something could get them to stop. something could deter them and get them to change their mind. 

“i don’t give a fuck what you want,” jeno retorted bluntly. and just like that, the hope vanished. jeno got an idea and said, “haechan, it’s your turn.” 

haechan meandered towards you slowly, almost looking shy. he saw the way your eyes begged and pleaded for mercy and knew that you saw something in him that you didn’t see in jeno, but you weren’t ready to accept how similar they were. that haechan was capable of terrible things, just as much as jeno was.

“i want…” haechan trailed off, looking down at his feet. 

eyebrow arched, jeno urged him on, “you want what?” 

haechan cleared his throat. “i want her to ride me.”

for a second, you were glad that jeno’s teasing wasn’t directed towards you at the moment. he laughed, amused by his teammate’s honesty. “you’re fucking kidding. you hear that, babe? haechan’s so pathetic that he can’t even fuck you. he needs you to do all the fucking work for him.”

then you saw it. the tent in haechan’s pants. as humiliating as the situation was, he was aroused.

jeno walked back to the top side of the bed, then grabbed your jaw and warned, “listen, you little cunt. i’m gonna untie these ropes and you’re going to be on your best behavior or else i’ll have to hurt you - really, really bad. is that what you want?”

rapidly, you shook your head. jeno went to untie the ropes and you felt a little relieved to have your wrists freed, though they still stung. 

“now be a good girl and ride haechan.”

haechan stripped himself of his clothes and simultaneously you of all of your dignity. it was your turn to hesitate: should you cave in to their desires, or resist and possibly make things worse for yourself? it seemed like no matter what you did they always had the upper hand, and your only option was to submit, whether you did it willingly or by force.

“just do what he says. please,” haechan told you, giving you the most pitiful eyes. whether he was telling you that for your sake or for his, you didn’t know anymore. you thought that there was a chance he wasn’t as sick as jeno was, but clearly you were being proven wrong. his hunger for you obviously outweighed any sense of conscience he had, his moral compass broken. and you felt disgusted.

you swallowed to wet your throat. “do you have a condom?” 

“haechan’ll pull out,” jeno said, unperturbed. much unlike you. the last thing you wanted was to have a baby and especially by either of them. “won’t you, haechan?”

haechan’s eyes flickered. “i don’t think…”

jeno repeated more sharply this time, “won’t you, haechan?”

slowly, haechan nods. you didn’t trust it - especially considering jeno had essentially just forced haechan into saying that he’d pull out - but it wasn’t like you had a choice. you couldn’t imagine the things he’d do to you if you resisted. so with all of the strength you could muster, you walked on your knees towards haechan and straddled his crotch, slowly pushing the head of his cock into you. haechan tipped his head back almost immediately, a high-pitched noise escaping his lips. a noise left yours, but it wasn’t one of pleasure. it burned and tears pricked your eyes.

at least you had control over the pace. that was the only thing that you had power over in this entire situation. you weren’t sure how to feel about that.

“good. you’re complying,” jeno remarked, only observing from the sidelines - for now. “don’t know why you’re crying like a fucking bitch. we haven’t even gotten to the best part yet. you should be glad haechan’s such a wimp - i won’t be going so easy on you.”

“shut up,” you hissed. you hadn’t really meant to say it aloud, but it was too late - you already had. and now you were definitely going to suffer the consequences.

anger flashed on jeno’s face in an instant and he didn’t hesitate to reach for your jaw again, forcing you to look at him so rapidly that you thought your neck would snap. “what the fuck did you just say?”

you had never regretted anything quicker. gulping, you swiftly tried to save yourself, “i’m sorry-“ 

the words had hardly left your mouth before the palm of his hand landed against your cheek, and it stung like hell. if you weren’t crying already, you were sobbing now. 

jeno repeated, “i said, what the fuck did you just say to me?” 

you hesitated, but in your best effort to not get hit again, you whispered in the tinest voice, “i said… i said shut up.” 

jeno swung his palm towards your face again and you closed your eyes in preparation, but it never came. you opened your eyes again after a moment, met with the sight of laughing in your face. whether from anger or genuine amusement or a combination of the two, you couldn’t tell.  much to your surprise, he let go of your face, but you should have known that he wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. the words left his mouth and you gawked when he spoke to haechan, “cum in her.”

“no- no, you can’t!” you yelled to haechan, immediately trying to get away before he got the chance. but you felt something cold against your temple and immediately froze.

“move and i’ll have to coat these pretty walls with your brains. you wouldn’t want that, would you?” jeno asked, holding a firearm to your head. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything. the fear plaguing you had broken you. it took every bit of strength you had to even shake your head. “wouldn’t have had to do this if you just behaved like i told you to. but since you wanna be a fucking brat, i guess i gotta treat you like one. see this as your punishment.”

when haechan came with a loud cry, filling you to the brim, it wasn’t long before they switched places. and when jeno forcefully bended you over, you knew that you were in for one hell of a ride. 

and it was going to be a long one. 

[fadingdaggerr]

Can you make a fic based on my two fav melissa schementti fantasies

melissa calling reader by pet names and making them completely flustered x melissa making reader jealous on purpose

basically all this happens before they date/confess

and when melissa has had enough of reader not making any moves and hiding from her, melissa takes charge and ends up making out w reader.

i know this is a little difficult to write but tysm i really love ur fics 😭🫶🫶

wishful thinking

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above!

warnings/includes: ridiculously clueless!r and a not clueless mel, gary but only for plot purposes, making out

translations: gioia (joy/happiness), tesoro (darling/treasure), gavone (pig/slob)

note: i’m so sorry i haven’t been active. i’ve been dealing with a lot the last few months and haven’t had even a second to breathe. better note at the end <3

Melissa would never admit to anyone how much she liked the effect she had on you. She loved to watch your head duck down nervously when she complimented you or guided you along with a hand on your lower back. Every single time she left the light tremor of your body, but not once did she mention it. You were glad she couldn’t feel your heartbeat the moment her attention was on you.

—

The first time she noticed it changed her entire perspective on you.

Melissa wasn’t the kind to talk to the new hires, the turnover rates at Abbott were laughable and they never stayed more than a couple of months. But after a few months, she started to pay attention. Over time, she got to see just how much you really cared for the kids. She had stopped by to ask if you had an extra purple whiteboard marker, but she was met with the sight of you kneeling in front of one of your students, big, sad tears in her eyes. She could just barely hear the mutterings of I know it hurts sweetie and the one that made a little smile cross her lips, of course I have shark band-aids, what am i? A chump? She sees you start to stand to grab the bandage and decides to move now before she gets caught staring.

Right as she steps close to you, you rise and spin around. Your action staggers as you notice her form too late, and nearly falling as you try to avoid running into her, nearly. Strong hands grasp your upper arms, saving you from landing flat on your ass.

Your head tilts up to face her, finally registering that it was Melissa. It takes you a second to breathe before you let out a little, “thank you.”

“Of course, hon. My fault anyways,” she says with a small smile. There’s an almost too long pause before she realizes her hands are still on your arms, dropping them immediately to fold them across her chest. You’re almost in a daze just looking at her, but you have to keep up appearances.

“Did you need something?” You say with a soft smile. Melissa noticed how your eyes never left hers for a second after she called you hon, she also thinks that you’d never looked her in the eyes before then. It had never gone unnoticed that you always looked at her bangs or the frame of her glasses whenever you’d spoken before.

Interesting... Melissa thinks to herself.

—

And then Melissa began to see a pattern.

You’d given her the extra dollar she needed for her iced tea, four quarters stacked tails-up in front of her. She didn’t ask anyone, only sighed when she checked her purse.

“Thanks sweetheart,” Melissa said without really thinking.

Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before you catch yourself, accompanied by a quick inhale. Licking your lips and averting your eyes from her, you quietly say, “yeah. of course, anytime.”

Barbara must notice Melissa’s intrigue suddenly and speaks up, “dear, why don’t you come sit with us? I don’t think we’ve gotten a chance to know each other just yet.”

This marked the start of yours and Melissa’s friendship.

—

“You got plans Saturday?” Melissa says as she pours a cup of coffee into her Tucci mug.

You look up from your phone and take a breath in, “I have lunch with my cousin at noon, but I’m free later on. Why, what do you have planned?”

“That flea market’s coming back around, the one with the good antiques and the petting zoo,” you almost speak but she cuts you off, “oh, and that apple cider you liked.”

You smile at her remembering that detail before responding, “yeah, that sounds perfect. I can text you when I leave the diner.” Your voice thankfully doesn’t seem to give away how nervous you were trying not to seem. You take a sip from your mug to hide yourself for a moment.

“Great. I’m looking forward to it, babe,” she says through a sip of her own coffee. She stays just long enough to watch you nearly choke on your tea, and then slips out to walk to her classroom with a satisfied smirk on her face.

—

At the development week meeting, she turned to see you looking around for a place to sit. When you miss her wave to get your attention, she decides to yell your name across the gymnasium to get you to look in her direction. Your head whips her way, a grateful smile on your face when you see her waving you over. She decidedly loves the shy smile that was reserved for only her.

Stepping over nurse Makiah to get to the free seat, you finally plop down next to the redhead. Something possesses Melissa and her arm moves on its own to rest across the back of your seat, hand resting on your arm. She feels you stiffen for a moment, almost thinking she’d overstep, but you relax into her touch.

“You didn’t have to save me a seat. These are prime real estate to bleacher-leaners,” you mumble to her as one of the eighth grade teachers goes on about something that wasn’t as important as her fingers tracing little patterns over your shirt.

Melissa chuckles lightly, squeezing your shoulder lightly. She leans in to answer, “but then I wouldn’t have you sitting here, tesoro.” Your eyes go to your lap as you fail to hide the smile from her words, making the redhead’s heart rate pick up.

“You’re too nice to me, Schemmenti,” you say as you lift your head, with what little courage you have, to look at her and smile, leaning into her for a second.

—

Then an idea struck Melissa

Tuesday was vending machine restock day. Tuesday was your new least favorite day of the week. Totally unrelated.

Gary, the vending machine guy, had started a habit of flirting with Melissa. He started with giving her a free iced tea straight from the truck, and then chatting, then complimenting, and then just straight up checking her out with no shame. Every time he entered the room, your voice died in your throat, and your eyes stayed trained on him with a special kind of hatred. You were at least thankful Melissa hadn’t noticed the rage you felt when he had a conversation with her breasts. Melissa, in fact, did notice.

She watched how you stared daggers into his back as he spoke to her, completely unaware of her attention flicking to you every now and then. Your fork angrily stabbed at the lunch she’d brought you, not a single bite being taken since the vendor walked in the door. The more forward Gary got, the quieter and angrier you became. Once he left and Melissa’s focus went back to you entirely, as it always was, your shoulders relaxed and the assault on the pasta stopped.

Melissa decides she has a theory to test. She plays into Gary’s flirting some more, enough that the man is clearly picking up on it, and your hand stills. By the third week, Barbara is begging her to go on a date with the man.

“Girl, he likes you. You should give it a shot, he’s a nice man. Handsome too,” Barbara says with enthusiasm. Your eyes roll as you look at your phone, trying to tune out this conversation. Your resolve cracks a little when Ava mumbles that’s generous in response to Barbara’s comment, a tiny chuckle espacing you.

The kindergarten teacher nudges your hand, “don’t you think she should go for it?”

You struggle with trying to not just flat out say no so instead you settle with, “yeah. Gary seems really nice.” The thin smile on your face is unconvincing to both women, and it’s easy to read on both their faces. You quickly grab your stuff and stand, “I’m gonna head back to my room and pass out their math quizzes. I’ll see you later.”

Once the door closes behind you, Barbara looks at Melissa, “what was that?”

Melissa just shrugs, feigning obliviousness.

When Gary finally gets the nerve to ask her out, she laughs and agrees. You think the gods above must have it out for you, not letting you escape any interaction between the two. The fork in your hand just stabs harder at the food in the tupperware. After watching with a tinge of regret, Melissa finally speaks up.

“You alright over there, gioia?” She asks, her voice filled with real concern. You look at her for a moment, considering what to say, but settle with a nod. When your gaze drops again, you miss her lips dipping into a small frown.

—

Monday morning after the big date, you realize that being in the lounge was a mistake. You should have known to go straight to your classroom, but the need to see Melissa overrode your actions.

As you walked in, everyone was facing Melissa and asking her about every little detail of the date. Where’d they go? Was the food good? Did he offer to pay it all or ask to split the bill? What did she wear? She gives them all they want to hear, and only Ava asks what you didn’t want to know.

“Cut the bull. Did you let him hit or not?”

A chorus of AVA! goes around the room.

The redhead just sighs before answering, “why did you say it like that? And no, I did not ‘let him hit,’ Ava.” You hate that some tension leaves your shoulders after that. The rest of the time is spent with your eyes trained at the floor and ringing in your ears.

Melissa regrets her idea a lot more when she stops seeing your smile altogether and your eyes stop meeting hers.

—

She finally snaps.

Janine had planned to make a whole outing for the Abbott crew, inviting everyone out to a new arcade-bar that Erica had told her about. She’d told Melissa that she should invite Gary, saying that everyone wanted to meet him in a social setting and not just in the ten minutes he was in the school every Tuesday. Inviting Gary couldn’t hurt, she reasoned.

Gary’s phone went to voicemail for the fifth time and all eight of her texts were unanswered. He said he would come, that he wanted to meet everyone for real, but now he was a no show. Melissa felt like a teenager again, getting stood up by her date to homecoming while she waited outside for him. She turned to walk back in, almost running into you as you were coming to check on her.

“Everything alright?” You ask, knowing the answer already since she can’t hide her emotions well when she’s upset.

She huffs a laugh, “peachy. Jackass said he would be here almost an hour ago and won’t return my calls or anything.”

“Want me to beat him up for you?” You ask jokingly, but there’s a certain hope she’ll say yes that sits in your chest. Your heart almost can’t handle it when she smiles at your words, arm looping with yours as she drags you to the pinball machines.

You’d probably lost a student-loan payment in quarters by the time either of you had even won a single game you played. In the course of two hours, both of you had only managed to get a collective hundred tickets that could maybe win you each an eraser. Melissa pretends to not notice you cheating in the driving games, and you pretend not to notice her taking quarters from your cup.

You watch an equally competitive Ava and Melissa play a scary-good match of air hockey, each of them likely to have bruises on their knuckles by the end of the night from how hard they played. Each time she scored, the redhead’s eyes moved to you for approval, and each time she’s met with a little applause and smile from you.

“Wasn’t your man supposed to be here? Or were the Kit-Kats not behaving?” Ava says when they finally take a break from the game to take a drink.

Melissa just shrugs, “he hasn’t answered anything. If the gavone decides to say anything, then he’ll be getting an earful, or a bat to the head. Depends on what he says.”

“Do you even like this idiot?” Ava asks incredulously, saying exactly what you’d been thinking for weeks since they’d had their first date.

Melissa shrugs, “he’s alright. The first date was nice, but the rest have just been him trying to get in my pants.”

“Well,” Ava’s brows bounced a couple times, “are you gonna let him in or not?”

You check out entirely before listening to Melissa’s answer, not even caring how suddenly you left the conversation, just letting your legs carry you until you could finally breathe. You find yourself back with the old pinball machines that no one but you and Melissa had played. Only a few seconds of silence manages to pass before you hear the muffled stomp of boots on carpet, stopping right behind you.

“You gonna tell me what that was?” Melissa asks with your back facing her.

You should have known it was her that would follow you. Part of you wanted to lie and say that the drinks made you feel sick, but you both knew that they were too watered down to even intoxicate a toddler. The other part of you just wanted to scream about how it should be you on those dates with her, driving her home and walking her to the door. You turned to meet her eyes and any courage you had left, feeling like putty when she was so focused on you and you alone. Even though you know what her response will be, you just say, “it was nothing. I’ll be back inside in a minute.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” she says, stepping closer, “you’ve been doing that a lot lately. Just... I dunno, just leaving. You can be in the same room as me and it feels like you’re miles away.”

Your gaze drops to your feet, suddenly feeling insecure now that you know she’s noticed your behavior. You put all your energy into stabling your voice and keeping your lips from quivering at the thought of upsetting her. All you can muster in a tiny voice is, “I’m sorry.”

Melissa surprises you by pulling you into a tight hug, whispering to you, “is this about Gary?” Your heart stops at her words, knowing you’d been found out. The lack of answer and the way your body stiffens tells Melissa everything she needs to know, what she already knew.

Melissa knows that you’ll likely try to explain away anything the second she loosens her hold on you, that you’ll run and she’ll never get this close ever again. So she does the only thing that she can think of at this moment.

As she pulls away, Melissa’s hands cup your face, pulling you into her lips. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you feel her lips press against yours, soft and eager. After a moment, she realizes you’re not kissing her back, her heart cracking as she pulls away from you, ready to run. Her hands drop from your face, eyes blinking rapidly as doubt clouds her mind. Your mind catches up, realizing what had just happened. Melissa begins to turn to leave, but is stopped by your hand in hers. You tug her back to you, cupping her face and leaning forward to finally kiss her back.

She tasted like lipstick and watery vodka, her hands were warm against your wrists where they held tightly. Your mind was in hyperdrive as you took in her lips and her touch, hardly noticing her moving you until your hips met the game behind you. Melissa’s lips parted, her tongue brushing across your bottom lip to ask for entry. You were quick to allow her in, letting her dominate your lips as her hands dropped to grab at your waist. The taste of her lips and tongue became quickly addictive, the feeling even more so. Your hands migrate from her face to her hair, pulling her even closer to you as the kiss turns sloppy from the sheer desperation radiating from both of you.

Melissa’s hands grab at your hips harder as you tug at copper strands, cold fingers creeping under your shirt to rest against warm skin. The force of her body leaning further into you boggles the machine you’re pressed against making a loud buzzer sound and the automated voice yell just a quarter to play! The sudden noises make you both jump, breaking the kiss. Your eyes meet and you both stifle a laugh at the whole thing. Her lips immediately gravitate back to yours, this time softer. The smile you feel against your lips brings your own out, breaking the kiss again. You drop your head against her shoulder, basking in her presence and her hands on your skin.

“You knew,” is all you say, voice muffled against her shirt.

She smiles and rests her head against yours, “I did.”

“How long?”

“The whole time, give or take,” she’s a little surprised when your head pops up, almost smacking her chin.

Your eyes stare straight into hers, “and you said nothing?”

“You didn’t say shit either, don’t even start,” she says with a laugh, no malice hiding in her voice. Her only response is a grumble that sounds something like touché.

There’s so much love behind your eyes, it chokes her up. The way your eyes never left hers, something she missed in the last month, made her feel like the most precious stone. She looks at you for a moment longer before quietly asking, “can I kiss you again?”

The smallest smile crosses your lips as you answer in an equally quiet tone, “you can kiss me whenever you want, Schemmenti.”

feedback appreciated as always <3

note: again i’m sorry for not being active. i started school again and have been working full time while also being a full time student. i also had a death in the family that hit me very hard mentally and i had to take a step back as to not end up in the hospital. i’m going to try to be more active and take time to write more. thank u for being so patient. ilyvm

[gojoath]

ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ HELLO, YOU OKKOTSU YŪTA

you think it’s a funny stroke of fate that you keep running into the same pretty stranger, albeit not in your best moments. little do you know, he’s known you for months before that.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. stalking. obsession. manipulation. aged up characters. no smut this part. reader is oblivious. switching perspectives. how it begins. yuta's name isn't mentioned during your first meeting because you don't know it yet. wc, 2.6k.

note. reposting the og yandere yūta series here for you just so you have it & i’ve received a lot of asks asking so :)

you’re beautiful, yuuta thinks as he watches you. you’ve stopped him in his tracks quite literally despite the cursed spirit guts that coat his white shirt— drying against his pale skin. but he feels numb when he takes his first glance at you.

he’s on the sidewalk opposite the cafe and you’re at the window seat, it’s a rainy day today— he’ll always remember it because it’s the day he met you. he thinks it’s funny, the way the earth wills for two souls to be together. he can feel the way yours is calling out to him, like it’s fateand you’re like a vision, his future and somewhere for all of his love to fester and feast.

you must feel it too— because your face scrunches up from where you’re looking at the screen of your phone and even just from your side profile, yuuta knows he wants to be by your side forever. half of your face is enough to have him hooked, maybe the saying is true that soulmates always meet eventually, they have the same hiding place afterall.

he readjusts the katana over his shoulder as he shifts his weight from foot to foot, he’s still watching you. he can’t pull away, he can already imagine the way you’d smile at him if he was sat opposite you in that empty chair. he hopes you’re alone, waiting for him— he’s finally found you. you don’t have to wait anymore.

yuuta watches your features closely as you lift your head from your phone and you look around the cafe cutely, you can probably feel him close by— his gaze is on you and he’s sure he can feel your heart beating for him. you really are so beautiful, he needs you all to himself. your next look is finally out the window to your right and he watches the way your features scan the street like you’re looking for someone, like you feel someone staring.

but it’s weird, the opposite side of the street is empty. you could’ve sworn someone was there.

—

it’s 11am as you browse the aisle’s in your usual grocery store, just a regular wednesday— wrapped away in your own little world with your headphones on as let yourself squeeze at the avocado’s in the fruit section to check if they’re ripe. it’s colder today, you’re wrapped in your scarf and a jacket but there’s something fresh and crisp about the air despite the chill.

another squeeze of the fruits in your hand and your brows furrow as you frown into the fabric of your scarf. you’ve squeezed every avocado in this section and you swear they all feel like rocks.

you go to turn away, to face the embarrassment and disappointment of leaving empty handed and avocado-less despite the way the grocery store was mostly empty at this time of day anyway. but instead, you almost collide completely with the figure to your right, you hadn’t even realised he was there— how long has he even been standing beside you? 

you look up at him to apologise quickly, but his eyes look at you in a way that wills you not to leave yet. you watch the way his lips move as he points at the fruit and gives you a kind-hearted smile, but the words go unheard as the music in your headphones still plays.

you apologise— for the second time, before you’re pushing them around your neck, fumbling a little awkwardly as the music dies and the sound of the world fill back up and you’re still staring up at the dark-haired stranger. “i couldn’t hear you, sorry!”

“oh, ah— you can have these ones.” his voice is a lot softer than you expect it to be, maybe it’s the look in his eyes that gives you the impression of something darker but his tone is kind. your eyes scan him at his words, urging you to look into his other hand that holds a pack of the same avocados you’ve just spent forever staring at.

“these ones are ready. i must’ve got the last ones, sorry.” you’re blinking up at him now, a little bit in disbelief but also embarrassed that a stranger— a cute stranger at that, felt the need to save you from your misery like this. isn’t this how it normally goes in the romance manga? 

“oh, are you sure? i don’t want to steal your groceries.” you smile as you fidget with your headphones over your scarf again but the man opposite you just gives you another smile.

“it’s fine, i don’t actually like them that much.”

“really? thank you so much, i owe you one.” you’re not sure if it’s just the cold today, but you swear he’s blushing. you bow your head slightly as you take the avocados, feeling his hand brush yours and you smile softly with another thank you before you go to turn away again.

but then that same soft tone calls you back before you can.

“so, do you like them?” he asks as he smiles down at you and you can’t hide the way the question makes you blink. you’re a little confused, caught off guard by the fact you’re pulled back into conversation again as your head turns to look at him over your shoulder.

you think he picks up on that because his hand points innocently at the avocado’s in your own before you find yourself feeling suddenly warm. obviously he’s talking about the avocados.

“oh.. uh, yeah. they’re good. but yeah, thanks again. i should probably..” now you’re definitely embarrassed, so much so that you can’t help but find yourself cutting the conversation short. you hope it doesn’t come across as rude or ungrateful, but he still manages another smile as he scratches at the back of his neck before you turn to leave with a wave.

“oh. yeah, i’m sorry.” you feel a little bad when he apologises though, you didn’t even manage to get his name.

but it’s weird. you feel like he looks a little familiar.

yuuta watches you leave, he doesn’t leave that spot infront of the aisle at the grocery store because he’s finally been able to speak to you. to see you up close. he’s so glad that he followed you here, he knows this is your routine, he’s studied it for weeks, months. this is your favourite time to go shopping and he’d made sure to get there early to pick out the ripest avocados. he knew you’d come looking. your skin felt soft when he’d brushed his fingertips against yours.

it was perfect. you are perfect.

“ah, that went well.” he lets his palm rest over his chest as he feels the way his heart is beating against his ribs, like it’s about to jump out of his skin entirely to reach for you, to pull you back. he likes the way love feels with you,

he can’t wait to finally have you.

—

you can feel your heartbeat in your ears as you walk quickly down the sidewalk towards your usual cafe, you know you’ve got to get to lunch with your friends in just under an hour— it’d been so long since you’d seen them, you were excited to catch up. but ofcourse, you’d planned a quick coffee break into your schedule, well.. until you’d slept in. 

which leaves you where you are now— rushing down the busy street towards the cafe that you know does the best coffee, because you need atleast a little bit of caffeine in your system before you can even think about taking on the day.

it’s hotter now than it has been the past few weeks and the sun feels warm against your figure as you finally turn to stand outside the door to your destination. but something feels cold against your skin still, like a stare that makes you look back over your shoulder despite the way you come up empty handed. there’s no creep in an alley like you’d expect, but the feeling remains before you’re shrugging and pushing through the door to caffeinated heaven— forgetting it entirely.

you exhale a sigh of relief when you notice the cafe isn’t as busy as it normally is, taking your place in line behind the man infront of you before you’re sending your friends a quick text back to let them know your eta.

it only takes a few minutes for you to get to the cashier, to order your little cup of brewed heaven with a smile and you’re basically vibrating with how excited you are for it. making sure to leave the worker behind the desk a generous tip before you’re making your way back to the door to leave.

but you’re a little too giddy to notice the way someone’s coming in just as you go to exit. the door opening suddenly almost makes you stumble, almost dropping the takeout cup in your palms before you’re pulled back steady by a weight around your waist that saves both you and your coffee as you gasp.

“i’m so sorry!” your head whips around as you look around for whoever just basically saved your life— your own little hero at this point, considering you almost just made a complete fool of yourself and spilled a completely full cup of coffee. your eta for your friends would’ve been an impossibility if you would’ve ended up covered in your drink.

though the gaze you’re met with is familiar as you gain your footing and you don’t realise how close you’re standing to the man that just saved your life until you’re blinking up at him. your chest is almost against his and you clear your throat a little awkwardly when you realise his arms are still around you too.

“oh, it’s you again, avocado guy! hah, looks like i owe you another one.. uh?” you smile and your words urge him to let his hands fall by his side again, albeit begrudgingly. he’d probably think you were a complete weirdo if you told him it felt kind of nice actually. you don’t even know the guys name yet.

“oh, i’m okkotsu yuuta. it’s nice to meet you.” yuuta’s hand reaches out to shake yours and his grip is tighter, colderthan you expect it to be. you start to wonder if he’s going to let go of your hand at all when it’s still there after a few stretched seconds. he’s just staring at you now, before you begin to pull yours back and surprisingly, he lets you. 

you’ve met before, but this seems like the first time you’ve let yourself truly look at him. he’s a little awkward, but he’s pretty in that same way, his hair is pushed back but it still falls into a sort of relaxed, effortless style that frames his features nicely. his skin is pale and he’s taller than you remember, but it’s his eyes you can’t quite tear yourself away from.

they’re cold, haunting in a particular sort of way that you can’t quite place. it’s like they don’t quite fit yuuta’s demeanour, like they’re looking through you entirely and the chilling gaze makes something sharp rip at your spine before you’re readjusting your feet and ignoring it. you barely know the guy, he seems nice enough. maybe you should stop assuming kind strangers have some alterier motive.

“okkotsu yuuta? thats a nice name.” you smile and you swear he’s blushing again as he looks away from you, pushing a hand through his hair in a way that makes you burn hot yourself. he’s got really, really nice hands.

“really? do you think so.. ah, thank you. i—“ your conversation is cut short, and your train of thought when your phone vibrates and you’re reminded of your ever fast approaching lunch date. you give yuuta a wide-eyed look and another apologetic smile before you’re taking a step back, feeling the cold air brush through the growing space between you both as you thank him for saving you, again.

“oh, im really sorry, okkotsu— i have to run! i have a lunch to get too,” at this point he’s going to think you’re running from him as you turn to leave. but just as you do, you feel something cold wrap around your wrist that urges you to stay.

“wait, who are you going with?” the question catches you a little off guard, but the press of yuuta’s hand around your wrist distracts you from it completely when your head whips around to frown at him. just as quickly as your gaze touches his, his hand leaves your skin and the expression that follows on his face is like a wordless apology for grabbing you. he doesn’t even know you afterall.

“what?” your words come out a little shorter than you expect them too, but you find the momentary rage about being stopped physically by a stranger melt away when he sends you another one of his soft smiles. curse him for being so pretty.

“i’m sorry, did that scare you?” yuuta’s voice sounds gentle and dreamy. you want to tell him it did—that he could atleast take you to dinner first before grabbing you back—but instead, you just find yourself looking up at him. so he continues,

“i just wanted to talk more with you, is that weird?” maybe he can tell you were a little caught off guard by the gesture. sure, he was handsome— you just didn’t expect to be pulled back into another conversation, quite literally.

“i feel drawn to you in a way.” yuuta brushes his hair back again and there’s an intriguing sort of glow to his gaze as he looks over your features, something that makes you take a small sort of step towards him when you find yourself smiling again as he speaks. “you’re really pretty.”

his compliment feel like it warms you from the inside out and suddenly you wish it was a little colder outside again, just so you could blame your ever growing body temperature on the weather — instead of the way this guy you’ve just met is flustering you instead. you press your coffee cup between your palms and exhale when you feel the sudden pace of your heart quicken.

“me too.. uh, how about i give you my number. call me?” suddenly, you can’t meet his gaze— it feels like it cuts through you and just because he thinks you’re pretty doesn’t necessarily mean he wants to date you. so you let the question hang there with bated breath, although yuuta seems to answer a little too quickly for him to even have considered it fully. maybe he was waiting for you to ask.

“ye—yeah, okay. i’d really like that.” there’s something cheerful in his tone and the smile he shows you next is toothy and sweet as you outstretch your hands to take his phone from him. you can feel him staring at you as you type it in and it makes a slight tremble settle in your fingertips at the attention he gives you before you hand it back. his hand lingers on yours a little longer when you do.

“and it’s just my friends i’m meeting for lunch, to answer your question.” you know you don’t owe yuuta an explanation but it’s his eyes, you think. they look at you like he’s peeling the truth from you with every blink, suddenly you want to strip yourself of every secret you’ve ever kept in the hopes he’ll forgive you for them all.

“oh, hah. that’s good.” you think you could get used to the sound of his voice, maybe you’re moving a little too fast— developing a crush on a man that to the best of yourknowledge, you’ve only met twice. so to save yourself anymore skips of your ever increasing heart rate, you leave at that and he lets you this time with a gentle wave, because maybe you’ll introduce him to those same friends soon too.

he’s glad it wasn’t a guy you’re meeting, that’s why he asked— he had to be sure, but he knows you wouldn’t do that to him.

he hopes your friends will like him as much as you do. he knows it can be annoying to have people telling you he might not be good for you, but he’ll be sure to make a good impression so they can’t say anything that may sway your heart. they don’t know you like he does afterall— how are they supposed to know what’s best?

okkotsu yuuta will always be whats best for you. even if you don’t know that yourself yet.

© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[sminiac]

౨ৎ⋆˚｡ — Damage To Me ! Pt.1

⋆ Kim Jongseob + Reader

♫ — No Guidnce ‘The Way That I Want You’ and Kiss Of Life ‘Nobody Knows’

Ex — Just a lil tiny something for Seob’s m.list, because it’s looking pretty bare :,) This is very much swayed by my emotions, so therefore it’s open for interpretation!

The air surrounding you is confining with it’s inability to understand of your reasonings for coming back, it’s unpleasant, and overwhelming to the senses, but the gentleness of his mouth far exceeds any sense of rationality that you might have.

Your once negative thoughts were heeded, right before he had you locked in his embrace, his hands grabby and desperate like he’d never feel your warm skin against his again.

You came barrelling head first into the room before taking a minute to stop and fully take everything in from an observational perspective, one that wasn’t of your own hot blood.

Jongseob knows you’re more of a hands-on type of person anyways, it’s what he always found himself admiring when you spoke to him of your struggles, days later- like normal he���d follow up, asking if you’d figured out how to survive your latest hurdle in life only to hear that you’d dug it out right from the root. But this time, no matter how frequently your hands return to his body, digging down so deep you nick past his flaws and all, you can never quite get a sense of where your feelings for him precisely stand even as you scoop at the bits of Jongseob that make him whole until dirt is crowding under your nails and your hands are sore.

He’s never ending you find, the closest mortality would ever get to being eternal, he’s to be revered, untouchable by everyone, yet he allows you with a beckoning hand of his own that soothes at your wounds and brings to his face to rest gentle kisses across your knuckles, it’s a daunting conclusion to come to but even so you’re unceasingly determined to find what it is you’ve been searching for with a brave heart and a soft faced smile all this time, one he calls pretty with a ticklish breath before pulling your lips back against his.

Jongseob’s appetite is insatiable once he’s finally reintroduced to your taste after so long, the breaks from seeing each other are consistent, the no contact even more, but he still finds you all the same, well, the both of you. Normally you expertly maintain a steady stream of air flowing in through your nose out into his mouth, compared to how he subconsciously disrupts his own breathing by pressing his face as close to yours as possible, and the way your head dips to either side of his so smoothly he barely even recognizes you as moving sometimes, opposed to him, who struggles with leading because of how quick and impatient he gets, he still tries, when it’s what you need.

Not that those kind of rules apply to the two of you and what you do together, though. It would be hypocritical to assume there’s conventional rules you abide by with how deep the uncertainty is that you’re swimming in, but the shared impenetrable devotion keeps you afloat at least.

“Seob,” you whisper with closed eyes as he drags moist, comforting pecks to the corner of your mouth. “have to— wanna’ stop.” You plead, more with yourself than him. He’s never someone that needed convincing, he hears you, but there’s a hand cradling the back of his head, keeping him so close that there’s no space for him to settle back into.

He chooses to turn his head instead, lips brushing against yours with his every word. “Do you? You say that every time you come back, baby.” There’s a tender chuckle that his words melt into as he study’s your face before a hairsbreadth of silence ensues, your eyes are still shut, the muscles in your face taut in all the same places that he remembers from last time, and the time before that, and before that.

It embarrasses you, how he keeps note of your pathetic, weightless words that are only used as scaffolding for your rickety in-repair ego.

A whine times with the fall of your head, foreheads bumping with pouty lips being the furthest apart since you knocked on his bedroom door. He finds your habits endearing all the same, he can’t fight off a smile because of it.

“Yeah. Your roommates probably hate me for it too.” You say.

Your arms fall and cross loosely over your stomach the way a hermit crab retreats into their shell when scared, and Jongseob acts accordingly, wrapping you up in his arms alone, adding a layer to your comfort.

His fingers toy with the ends of your hair, knowing that you hate when other people touch it, but he’s not other people. “No. No, not even a little.” His hand waves side to side on your back, the friction giving you warmth, a tiredness you only feel in his room, surrounded by his belongings, his smell, his body. “They like seeing you here, they always ask when you’ll come and hangout again. Especially Jiung.”

Your head lifts, a confused lilt to your voice as you reiterate: “Jiung?”

He laughs again, a little bashful as the pressure on your back lessens. “He’s.. fatherly. He asks me how you’re doing more than he asks about how I am.”

This comes quite surprising to you, the mention of your name existing in their apartment even when you aren’t physically present. It makes your heart ache knowing your significance was enough for that, even if it’s minimal, it’s still something.

“So, who does ask you how you’re doing then?”

The words come to him easily, filling his mouth before they’re promptly, decidedly swallowed back down again.

“I mean, I’ve always wanted to tell you about my day when I come home.”

ᰔ sminiac’s P1Harmony M.list

Damage To Me ! Pt.2

[thetarotwitch111]

What makes you truly unique? - Pick a card flower reading

Each flower carries a different message, revealing a strength that’s uniquely yours. Trust your instincts, pick the one that calls to you the most, and let’s discover what makes you stand out in your own incredible way.

✨I hope this reading brings you some clarity and guidance. If it resonated with you, I’d love to hear about it!

✨ And if you’re looking for something more personal, I also do individual readings—just DM me anytime.

Take a deep breath, ask your guides and the Universe to take you to the message you need to read right now.

———————————————

🩷Pile 1: Rose


If you were drawn to the Rose, you are someone who carries both tenderness and strength in perfect harmony. You’re the type of person who can offer a comforting embrace when someone is down, but also stand firm when the situation demands it. Your love for others is genuine and deep, and people often come to you because they know you’ll listen with an open heart. You have a natural gift for making others feel valued and understood, and your kindness is something that people cherish about you.

But there’s more to you than just your caring nature. You’ve faced your own battles and come out stronger on the other side. This has given you a quiet confidence that others admire. You don’t just survive difficult times; you thrive! You’ve learned how to protect your heart without closing it off, which is a rare and powerful skill. This balance between being open and guarded is what makes you special.

Message from your Higher Self: Your higher self wants you to know that it’s okay to put yourself first sometimes. Your capacity to love is one of your greatest strengths, but don’t forget that you deserve that same love and care. By taking time for yourself, you’ll be able to continue offering your incredible support to others.

Mantra for the Moment: I am strong in my love and gentle with myself.

Advice from the witch: Keep nurturing your heart, but remember to take care of yourself too. You can carry a piece of rose quartz to help you stay balanced in your relationships. A bath with rose petals also can be a simple way to recharge your emotional energy. And if you enjoy fire magic, light a pink or a white candle and take a moment to appreciate the love you give and receive, recognizing it as a source of your strength.

💜Pile 2: Lavender


If you were drawn to Lavender, you have a natural ability to bring calm and peace wherever you go, even though you don’t realize it everytime. People find your presence soothing; just being around you makes them feel more at ease. You’re the person others turn to when they need to talk things through or find clarity in a confusing situation. You listen carefully and offer advice that’s wise and thoughtful, often helping others see things from a new perspective.

Your gift isn’t just about what you say, but also about how you make others feel. You have a deep connection to your own inner peace and inner self, and this allows you to stay grounded even when things around you get chaotic. You’ve likely spent time developing your spiritual side, whether through meditation, journaling, or just in a quiet reflection. This connection to your inner world is what gives you such a calm and balanced outlook on life.

Message from your Higher Self: Your higher self wants you to embrace your gift of bringing peace, but also to remember to protect your own energy. It’s okay to say no when you need to recharge. Your calm presence is a gift to the world, and by taking care of yourself, you ensure that you can continue to offer it.

Mantra for the Moment: I bring peace to others by nurturing my own calm.

Advice from the witch: Continue to cultivate your peaceful energy by bringing lavender into your daily life. Whether it’s a sachet under your pillow, a few drops of lavender oil in a bath, or simply enjoying a cup of tea, this herb can help you maintain your inner calm. You can also carry amethyst to keep your energy clear and protect your peace and conect yourself witg your intuition. Light a lilac or a white candle and take a moment to center yourself, acknowledging the calm you bring to others.

💛Pile 3: Sunflower


If you were drawn to the Sunflower, you are someone who radiates positivity and warmth. You have a bright, optimistic spirit that naturally uplifts those around you. People love being in your presence because you make them feel good about themselves and the world. You’re the kind of person who always sees the glass as half full, and your ability to find the silver lining in any situation is truly special.

But your optimism isn’t just about seeing the good in things; it’s also about believing in people. You have a unique gift for recognizing the potential in others, even when they don’t see it in themselves. You encourage people to pursue their dreams and to embrace their uniqueness. Your energy is bright, and your belief in others often helps them believe in themselves.

Message from your Higher Self: Your higher self wants you to know that your positivity is a powerful force, but it’s okay to take a break when you need it. You don’t always have to be the one lifting others up—it’s important to allow yourself to rest and be supported too. By taking time for self-care, you’ll be able to continue sharing your light with the world.

Mantra for the Moment: I shine bright and inspire others, but I also take time to recharge.

Advice from the witch: Keep spreading your light, but also remember to recharge your own energy. Carry a piece of citrine to enhance your natural positivity and attract even more joy into your life. A bath with sunflower petals or a citrus-scented bath bomb can help you refresh your spirit. Light a yellow candle and reflect on how your positive energy inspires others, and how you can keep that energy flowing by taking care of yourself.

———————————————————

[libraincarnate]

astrology notes: 7 💋

quick note: i'm absolutely not an astrologer. these are just a collection of some observations, thoughts, theories, and personal experiences. with that being said, i'm still learning along the way & i may come back to edit this post to make corrections. above all this is just for fun. lastly, keep in mind that i’m not reading your birth chart and i know nothing about you. these are just some possibilities that may or may not apply to you. enjoy!

♡ 6th house placements may have an interest in the human body. fascinated with the way it works and could want to learn about it. i also notice a lot of natives with 6th house/virgo placements look so good in bikinis because their bodies look so bomb and a lot of this could be due to the energy the put into their physical health such as diet & exercise.

♡ saturn/capricorn in the 7th house & capricorn venus/moon: dating or the talking stage = an interview. when dating or talking to someone with these placements, your words and actions are all being taken into an account to analyze the kind of person you are. your morals, perspectives, values, goals, achievements, your temperament, your background, how you interact with others, etc. you are interviewing for a spot in their lives but to also gain access to the parts of them they conceal from others which is no small thing because they don’t let just anyone into their lives. it’s not easy to get close to them.

scorpios are known for putting you through tests to see if you’re worthy, well caps put you through a series of interviews. and if you don’t meet their standards? ✌️

♡ cancer mercury: these people are such good listeners. they care about what you say, how you say it, and how you feel. these people can make you feel heard, make you feel that your thoughts & feelings are validated. patient when communicating. they refrain from judging and you may feel comfortable being vulnerable with them, a space that welcomes vulnerability. they remind me of this Bible verse: (proverbs 16:24) “pleasant words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the bones.” they’re loyal & supportive friends that have your back. also the types to hype you up like libra & leo. if you know people with these placements appreciate them & be nice to them. or else 👹🔪😌.

♡ libra mercury friends just get each other. they just click. if there are 2 people with libra mercury in a group of friends, they’re probably the closest to each other out of everyone else in the group.

♡ saturn retrograde natives: responsibility may feel overwhelming because you feel like you’re the only one who can help yourself and handling everything on your own is taxing. you didn’t really receive the help and support you needed from others, maybe your parents, so you had no choice but to do it yourself. you’re accustomed to doing things yourself so asking for help seems foreign. incompetence frustrates you, there’s no time for that. if you don’t know how to do something or you don’t understand it you can get frustrated with yourself. this native may be regretful, an “i should’ve known/done better” type of person, even about little things.

since raising children is such a massive responsibility, i feel like this is another placement that may not want to have kids. they barely had time to be kids themselves. here’s an extra heart for you guys ♥︎.

♡ gemini rising = being your own bestie.

♡ want to have one of those conversations where you could just talk about “life”? find an:

aquarius/uranus dom- immediately their personality and way of thinking stands out. i feel like leo’s creativity is usually more in the realm of arts/music/acting but for aquarius they’re creative in the way of literally inventing something new or simply bringing something to this world that improves it, forces progression, or it’s something the world has never seen before such as the level of one’s skill, ability, talent, intelligence, etc. imagine the conversations you can have with someone with a mind such as that. these folks will be themselves, they don’t pretend to be somebody else so there’s no sugarcoating their personality. they’re authentic & what you seee is what yoy get.

they don’t believe in limitation and that may be one of the reasons why they achieve such great things. they do what they want & do it themselves. they may have many friends because they’re an air sign, they’re social and like to interact with others & it rules the 11th house associated with friendship. however there are few people who are really close to them. interesting but cool  & nice individuals who you can sit under the stars with and talk about whatever the hell is out there. politics, the way different countries are goverened, society and its current trajectory or future. they might be interested in sci-fi, dystopian type books.

scorpio/pluto/8th house dom- they naturally gravitate towards what most people consider dark and taboo. there’s an interest that draws them in and they eventually gain knowledge in these areas. the supernatural, sex, death, what’s on the other side, the occult, fears & deepest darkest secrets. but they’ve also had experience with these things in their lives. probably seen some eerie/frightening stuff. psychology is also something that interests them and scorpio is one of the signs that can see right through you. picking up on the slightest details about a person, anything that may reveal something about you but there’s a lot you don’t know about them. they privately go through things that change them as a person so it’s hard to know them. & because they’re private they may only discuss the dark and taboo subjects with people they trust especially since a lot of people may not feel comfortable with such topics.

sag/9th house dom- associated with knowledge & expansion, how could a conversation with these individuals not be intriguing. they can’t help but reflect on life. the why’s, the what’s, the how’s. hunting the truth, meaning, purpose, and reason. they travel a lot so they have seen many things. an interest in the different cultures around the world, what bonds & keeps a group of people together. their traditions, religions, what forms their identity, & their way of life. intelligent individuals who probably enojy or enjoyed school/college/university and do or did academically well. optimistic & sophisticated people who can make a difference in your life.

pisces/12th house dom- the 12th house has some similarities to the 8th house but it’s taken up a notch .. or two. it gets dark in a different way. it’s funny when people say they don’t really understand the 12th house, because same, but that’s also because it’s the house of mystery! the things that can’t be defined, that are vague, & cloudy. those are some of the things that fall in this house. the 12th house has you looking in the mirror without you even realizing it, until you do. but pisces also has that spellbinding beauty (not just physical), a sense of dreaminess, flamboyance, that you can look but can’t touch attribute. this contrast between the daunting depth and the enchantment of the 12th house/pisces only contribues to its mystique and strengthens the illusion.

with the propensity to turn to escapism, they must be imaginative. vivid and with great detail. or they’ve experience things that stretches their imagination. they drift off to the land of fantasy, somewhere opposite to reality. they just know things, can sense when something is about to happen. the traits of a prophet/prophetess. familiar with the spiritual realm, even if it’s subtle. conversation with these individuals can make you feel like you’re coming down from a trip. you ponder life on a deeper more spiritual level. you revisit your beliefs, purpose, and the way that you’re living. they dare you to alter your perspective. they inspire you & draw out your creativity and desires.

♡ chiron in the 5th house: blessed w/ musical & artistic talent. gifted in this area but may feel like those gifts are being wasted or not being used to their greatest potential.

♡ pisces/neptune is associated with drugs and certain bad habits. but if you’re also capricorn/saturn dominant or you have aspects like mars trine saturn, you may feel as though you have control over your use of drugs & alcohol, you know your limits, you’re able to take breaks, especially when necessary. bonus if these placements are in the 6th house of routine, these individuals are good at breaking and forming new habits. if a person has neptune in capricorn, they may feel like they know better than to experiment with drugs/alcohol, or at least serious drugs. if they do try it out they lowkey hate them, end up stopping, or find it illogical.

♡ mars retrograde natives: wearing or needing glasses to see better.

♡ 1st house ruler in the 2nd house, 2nd house stellium, venus in the 2nd house: mirrors were created for these individuals. they probably have a lot of mirrors in their house. they totally understand narcissus from greek mythology lol. “never pass a mirror without looking in it.” -paris hilton

if you read this until the end i hope you enjoyed it & thank you so much for reading. ♥︎♥︎♥︎, those hearts are for you.

[livums]

Liv’s {Totally Optional Non-Mandatory Completely Voluntary} Pointers for Fleshing Out Character Relationships

Hi I’m liv e. and by middling demand I am going to blab a liiittle* bit about relationships.

So I will start by saying that I’m trained & licensed as a marriage and family therapist. So this is kind of what I do all fucking week. And I like this whole writeblr thing so why not make it fun and about fiction instead. LOL.

The purpose of this liiiiittle** post is to offer some ways in which you, a writer (great job btw!), might deepen your own understanding of the relationships between two or more characters in your writing. More specifically, by thinking a little deeper about how relationships function in real life.

These are ways in which I might conceptualize a relationship between people who seek my services as a clinician.

A small disclaimer: the VAST majority of my work is with couples (because I. prefer to see couples over families, lol), so this advice is coming from that perspective. Please keep in mind also that there are certainly infinite other ways to think about relationships. This is just the way I was trained. Or at least, the parts of my training that resonated with me the most, especially as I began writing more seriously.

My hope is that reading and practicing/toying around with these tips will help add another dimension to how relationships play out in your writing. So um. Cheers! Let’s chat.

*it’s not a little. it’s a lot.

**it’s a long post.

i. What I Say vs. What I Mean

When was the last time your partner or good friend pissed you off?

Maybe they were flippant about your feelings. Maybe they blew you off to hang out with someone else. Maybe they keep loading the dishwasher like a neanderthal.

And did you say to them, “Baby/honey/sweetums/bestie, it really upsets me when you load the dishwasher like that. I’ve asked you to do it X way several times, and it feels like you’re not listening to me, or that you don’t care about how I feel” ?

Probably not? Because, hello? (If you did, first try, then, wow! you’re a better person than i’ll ever be.)

You might’ve said “Dude, stop cramming shit in the dishwasher like it’s a fucking suitcase,” or “Haha, wow, again with the dishwasher. Awesome. No, it’s like, whatever.“ Or you might not’ve said anything at all, on purpose.

There is a tension that exists, there, in the CONTRAST between what we are thinking/feeling/meaning (e.g., I love you/I miss you/You hurt me) and what we are communicating via our words and actions (e.g., You never make time for me/You’re so lazy/You’re such a(n) [expletive of choice]).

That tension is ... really fucking interesting to read, huh!

Personally, I have a lot of fun watching the needs/wants/feelings of a character (that we might be privy to, as readers) get filtered through their unique... voice.

So say you write a character who is quite rough around the edges, and not very skilled in affection. They have a deep yearning to be close to [love interest], but they just aren’t accustomed to languaging their true feelings. Maybe we see how scared they are of putting their feelings out there. It’s vulnerable. It’s terrifying.

So instead of “I really care about you, [love interest]”, maybe it comes out something more like “Don’t you have anything better to do with your time than follow me around all fucking day?”

And we, the readers, are like, wow! That’s not what you were thinking at all man! You’re so bad at this, that’s awesome.

So the point of all this is that it’s very helpful to clarify for yourself, in any meaningful interaction between characters in or soon-to-be-in a relationship:

What are the characters individually thinking during this interaction? What are the emotions that are present? How does it show in their body or their movements? Are they careful not to let these things show, or do they not notice at all?

How are they expecting this interaction to go? (Are they afraid something might go wrong? Are they looking for a certain reaction from each other?)

What DON’T they know about what the other person is thinking? What are their assumptions about how the other person perceives them--in general, and in this moment?

What is the GAP or the CONTRAST between all of the above and what actually ends up coming out of their mouth? Or what actions they end up physically taking (or not taking)?

Are the characters aware of their own contrast, here? How do they feel about it? Or, do they think they are being perfectly congruent?

In this way, you have the ability, as a writer, to create some devastatingly (or delightfully) poignant moments between characters. These are the moments that can really sell the reader on the relationship--its importance (why are you showing us this?) and its appeal (thank you for showing us this, this blew our tits off, etc).

ii. Tender Spots and How to Attack Them for Fun and Profit

So we’ve got issues.

What are the things that really fuckin get at you? Those topics that, when brought up, make you really upset and really defensive at like, mach speed. Maybe you’re insecure about your skills. Maybe it really bothers you when people see you as weak/unintelligent/a burden/unattractive. Maybe you have a rough and complicated relationship with a family member.

So these can be thought of as, like, tender spots (lol). You can also think of them as “raw” spots, sensitive spots, or triggers.

Figure out what your characters’ are!

This is another key way in which you can create deep and believable interpersonal drama--Character A (accidentally or intentionally) stomps all over Character B’s sensitive spots. So to speak.

A very cursory and relatively uncomplicated example of this in action:

Tasha and Mimi are two adults in a committed partnership.

Mimi’s got a real fucking chip on her shoulder about being seen as a burden--her father always went to great lengths to make sure she knew just how much he did for her, just how many opportunities he passed up in order to raise her, just how great his life would have been if she’d never been born.

Tasha is the oldest of five siblings. She was frequently tasked with their care, growing up. She did her best not to complain, as her parents were always very busy working to keep a roof over their head. So, Tasha did her part. She would’ve loved to rest and play and goof off like other kids and teens, sure, but it never felt possible with all of her responsibilities.

Mimi is suddenly injured and is unable to do certain things on her own that she had been doing before. Tasha goes about taking care of these things as well as taking on certain other tasks on her own that the pair of them may have tackled as a team before. Tasha feels stretched very thin by the workload, but is deeply concerned about how Mimi feels. There’s nothing to be done about the situation, she reasons, so there’s no point in complaining about how stressed out she is.

Mimi offers to help to the best of her ability, but Tasha is very concerned about her, and insists that Mimi rest and not exert herself. Mimi insists back. Tasha insists back back.

Mimi points out how stressed Tasha must be. Tasha agrees that she is stressed, but does not elaborate on her feelings. Mimi assumes that Tasha must think that she is a burden.

Mimi then becomes very emotionally activated--she is reminded, consciously or unconsciously, of how shitty it felt to have her father tell her over and over again what a burden she is, and how better off he would be without her. So this must be how Tasha really feels about her, Mimi accuses.

Tasha, who is very stressed but who cares very deeply for Mimi and her well-being, and who does not see Mimi as just a burden, becomes very activated in turn--she feels maligned and misunderstood. And now she certainly can’t talk about how stressed out she is, because it will only convince Mimi that she is right.

So Tasha is now convinced that she must continue to hold her feelings in in order to keep the peace--she’s reminded of her childhood spent taking care of others, and how she never felt allowed to express herself.

This example is obviously from a very zoomed-out view, chronologically, and is not exactly the way we would see it written in fiction (fiction is much more moment-by-moment and, well, exciting, usually). BUT we can see where Tasha and Mimi’s sensitivities lie, and how they specifically hurt each other with their behavior (unintentionally, in this case) by stomping RIGHT ON those sensitivities.

Readers love drama. And drama makes the plot go ‘round! So don’t be afraid to lay it on them!

In your (very good and compelling) writing, ESPECIALLY if you want to write engaging relational conflict, you would do well to clarify what your characters’ deepest sensitivities are. Consider the following:

What needs went unmet for them, growing up? A very cliche therapist-y question, but for good reason--our upbringing is where many of our deepest insecurities originate.

Additionally/alternatively, what do your characters understand to be their role in relation to other people? E.g., are they always the caretaker, the burden, the comic relief, the heartbreaker, the lonely hero, the boss? How did they first get this idea of who they’re ‘supposed’ to be towards others, and how was this reinforced throughout their life? Are they satisfied or dissatisfied with their ‘lot in life’? What do they hate about their ‘role’, if anything?

What sorts of situations might remind them of what they hate most about this role? E.g. ‘I enjoy taking care of others, and I’m good at it, but my partner gets upset if I discuss how stressed I get sometimes--I’m never allowed to express myself.’ How can you incorporate these situations into your story to create conflict?

How does your character respond when these sensitivities are triggered? Do they lash out? Do they retreat and get quiet? Do they ghost people altogether?

What do they think will happen if they are unwilling or unable to fulfill this role in their relationships with others? E.g., ‘My partner will leave me if I am not a good caretaker’, ‘Nothing will get done right if I’m not the one taking charge’, ‘If I don’t keep others at arms’ length, even if they say they love me, I’ll end up hurt.’

This is another way in which you can help your relationships really come to life! Anyways. Read on for more cheer and relational joy!

iii. We’re Attracted to What Hurts Us Sometimes, AKA Oops! I Ran into the Knife, Ten Times,

(less of a part 3 and more a part 2.5, but it was simply too long. so,)

So maybe you have a good idea of what your ideal partner/bestie looks like. It’s probably any number of positive traits: kind, considerate, good sense of humor, shapely posterior, ambitious, active, fun-loving, studious, etc.

What probably don’t make the list are things like: emotionally distant like my mother with whom I long to have a reparative experience.

Maybe you’ve witnessed (or been in) a relationship wherein all parties can be described as ‘just so bad for each other’. And maybe this relationship should not have lasted as long as it did (or shouldn’t be lasting as long as it is). And maybe you’re like--’Why are these assholes still together?’ Or, importantly: ‘Why did these assholes get together at all?’ The answer may surprise you! But more likely, it won’t.

Sometimes, we pick people on purpose specifically because they stab us right in the sensitive spot (again. so to speak).

(i should clarify before moving on: I am specifically NOT talking about relational abuse, here. That’s kind of an entirely different subject that is like. the cousin of this subject. In this discussion, I specifically mean relationships in which there is no major power differential--you’re just bad for each other. These relationships can be what we might call ‘toxic’, sure, and painful, but not abusive. The distinction is important, moving forward. ok ty)

[Author’s Note: I need everyone to know that I wrote and subsequently deleted 700 words here because I realized they didn’t make any fucking sense ok. let’s try this one more time.]

Essentially, it’s a known phenomenon among humans that, when we have experience with relational distress in the past (e.g. a partner who neglected you emotionally, or parents who disregarded boundaries you tried to set), we like to seek out similar people with whom to form relationships. Weird! But not really.

The human brain seeks closure and resolution--where we couldn’t get things to work out with our parents, or our exes, we try to get the same situations to work out next time, with someone new.

Let’s look at another example, together. Take my hand,

Suppose you write a character (Character A) whose mother was in and out of their life from a young age, and never seemed to prioritize them. Now suppose you are looking to craft a fraught or tragic or dramatic romance (or other relationship) with this character. Using what you’ve written of your first character’s backstory, you can do just that!

It’s perfectly believable, you know now, for your Character A to pursue a love interest (Character B) who has a tendency to... not want to stick around. Maybe this love interest seems to fear commitment and intimacy.

Now, maybe Character B in actuality has a very dangerous profession that requires that they maintain the utmost discretion, and be ready to flee anywhere at a moment’s notice. Maybe the fate of the city/kingdom/nation/world relies on B’s profession.

It probably doesn’t make them leaving all the time hurt A any less, though.

Character A, unconsciously or not, is determined to make things work this time around. As the relationship deepens, B is faced again and again with the choice--stay, for your love, or go, as duty commands. Maybe they’ve taken a vow for their profession that is no light thing. They leave, time and time again.

Character A, unconsciously or not, remembers this feeling--it’s an old one. Mother, time and time again, chose something else over them. It would be understandable for A to feel a deep anger towards Mom and B both. Maybe A takes drastic action to get back at B (action that is also, symbolically, retaliatory towards Mom)--maybe they cheat on B, or do something that endangers their own safety.

When all they really want is just to get B to stay.

It’s probably very clear now why it’s not so simple a thing for A to choose to date someone more consistent--this is something that goes beyond B alone.

In this way, you can very easily weave themes into the relationship(s) of your main characters. Maybe the story of A explores the pain of abandonment, or loneliness. If B is the protagonist, maybe the story explores the way we excuse our shitty behavior in relationships (maybe the job is a pretext--maybe they really are scared of commitment), or maybe it’s about the dilemma of duty over love.

Relationships don’t always make sense. Or rather, they do make sense, just in a different way than we might expect. You can use this understanding now to intentionally explore a number of complex relationship dynamics, and to create nuanced (but sympathetic) characters. As you do, consider:

In your existing characters’ relationships--what keeps these assholes together? Why do they have to be with each other, as opposed to anyone else? This is important, again, for selling the reader on the relationship, especially if it’s your work’s main relationship.

What initially attracted your characters to each other? Consider again from the previous section (what is this, a fucking textbook?) the historically unmet needs of your character(s).

How do your characters go about expressing their needs? Think again about CONTRAST here--what is the discrepancy between what the actual need is, and how the character seeks to fulfill it? E.g. ‘I need to keep B from leaving me, because it really hurts me when they go, so I’ll go risk my life just to keep their attention (rather than express this pain to them).’

What similarities, if any, exist between your MC’s relationships with the people in their present lives, and your MC’s childhood relationship(s) with their caregiver(s)? Could you expand on/deepen any similarities in your writing? What themes might emerge if you did?

iv. Change / The Arc

So you’ve got your work’s central relationship. It’s believable, it’s just the right amount of dramatic, it’s suitably tragic, and just all-around devastating. People will cry. Great job!

Now what?

Well, that depends--what ending do you envision for your relationship?

If they remain together, do they get the happily ever after? The happy-for-now? Is the reader left to wonder about whether or not their relationship will survive?

Do they not make it at all? Are they separated by tragedy? Do they crash and burn? Or maybe they try their best, but despite how badly they love each other, it’s just not enough?

Whatever the Point B of the relationship is, if it’s central to the work, you’re gonna want to have a clear arc in there. Or not, idk, I’m not your mom.

You might already know, if you inhale every piece of writing advice you come across (like me), what makes a compelling character arc. The good news is that it’s much the same with relationships! Kind of.

Systems (relationships) tend towards homeostasis. Without deliberate intervention, relationships want to remain the way they’ve always been. Just like people!

And just like characters, relationships need a reason to change. Like a catalyst, or a motivation. Whatever the hell you wanna call it.

It’s not always, like, complicated to figure out the driving force behind change in your central relationships. Sometimes the pieces fall together!

Pay attention to the characters within the relationship--as your characters progress through their arcs, their relationship will naturally shift. It will probably not look exactly the same as it did when it began--there might be similarities, of course (they’re not entirely different people.. usually. And there’s a beauty to bookending a story with the familiar, certainly). But in this case, the relationship can be thought of as an extra character, almost. It’s unsatisfying to read a whole story wherein a central character stays exactly the same. It’s further strange and incongruent for a relationship to stay exactly the same while the characters have like, achieved actualization or whatever.

Outside events can force change on a relationship, just as they do individual characters. A couple that’s close to Characters A and B get married--and A & B start to wonder what their future together even looks like. B’s company hires a fiiiine honey, who’s exactly B’s type, and A starts steaming about it. A pandemic ravages the nation, and to prevent the spread of the virus, A and B have to stay inside togeth

YOU GET IT ok anyways I’m fucking tired of writing. If you’re wanting to develop the arc of your MCs’ relationship(s), think on some of this:

Do your characters see any problem(s) present in their relationship? Are they all equally aware of the problem(s)? Do they agree on what the problem(s) are?

How secure are your characters in their relationship? If anything could possibly cause doubt and conflict to arise, what is it?

Where do your characters see their relationship going in the near future? In the far future? Do their visions align? If not, how do they differ? Do they even want the same thing?

Is the arc of the central relationship congruent with the arcs of the characters who comprise it? I.e. does the relationship remain exactly the same as it was when it started, despite the characters undergoing wild metamorphoses? Is the reverse true?

When you think about their relationship, INDEPENDENT of any ending you may already have decided, where do you see it going? Like, where do these people feel like they’re headed, realistically? Does this align with the ending you’ve decided on for them? If not, this doesn’t mean you’ve written a bad relationship or anything, it’s just a possible sign that some really intense shit might have to happen in order to shift their course, y’know? Or not--the world is your oyster and you are the God of your own creation!

What are you trying to say with your story, and do the arcs of the central relationships reflect that message?

final thots

If you read all that shit, thank you. I wrote it all in one sitting and posted it without proofreading 💜

In all seriousness, I want to emphasize that, although some of these aspects of relationships are most visible in rels with a lot of anguish and maybe even some toxicity, you by no means have to write this kind of relationship in order to make use of these tips. You could write a very Normal couple!

The idea is to offer you some avenues through which to consider aspects of your characters’ psychology and personalities, and how they mesh or clash with their partners’ or besties’.

Anyways I hope this was helpful. I love talking about relationships I could literally go on and on all day. Which I kind of just did so. lol.

I’ve been liv and I’ve got two main WIPs I’m working on right now: The Romance of the Demigods and The Marking Blood and they’re full of really really super normal relationships and examples of me definitely taking my own fucking advice.

Cheers and happy writing! 💖💖💖

[doodle-pops]

House of Fingolfin | Being In An Arranged Marriage With Them

A/N: This takes place in Valinor, in a no–darkening verse and arranged marriages are common traditions among the elves. By now, I'm considering this an AU within the Silm verse with all the ideas that’s been swimming in my mind after writing each headcanon (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Warnings: feelings of neglect and loneliness, resentment, disputes, there is some comfort, angst because it's an arranged marriage

Arranged Marriage AU: Arafinweans ver. | Feanorians ver.

☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Fingolfin

Fingolfin strongly resents being told what to do. However, if complying benefits his family and upholds his royal status as an exemplar for princes, he will reluctantly follow through. In this context, he would have no significant objections to an arranged marriage.

He genuinely believes in his father’s good intentions and considers his mother’s agreement as final. Fingolfin would attentively attend the meeting, listening to the criteria and rationale for the arrangement while occasionally glancing at your disheartened expression.

Initially, he might struggle to comprehend why you don’t view the situation as a win–win, given that you’re marrying a prince and about to enjoy a luxurious lifestyle. The notion of being forced into this or having a lover only dawns on Fingolfin when his younger brother or a friend brings it up.

He’s determined to make the relationship work and hopes you won’t be confrontational or resist connecting with each other. Your reluctance to make things work is a source of frustration for him, but his pride prevents him from complaining to others.

But it is important to keep in mind that as much as he’s fighting you to make this work, he is respectful of your boundaries and personal space.

“I may have been slow to realise your reservations about the arrangement, but may I ask that you at least attempt not to distance yourself when all I want is for this to go smoothly? Yes, we will be married soon, but I’m not suggesting a romantic involvement, just a basic level of cooperation to ease the tension, please.”

He’s eager to make the arrangement a success because he sees it as essential for his role as a prince and a way to outshine his older brother. In Fingolfin’s perspective, this is a competition, albeit unfortunate for you.

You must assert that for this relationship to work, it shouldn’t be a platform for competition or jealousy, but rather something mutually beneficial and meaningful. You seek a partner you can rely on and trust, while he desires a confidant.

Despite the challenges, you enjoy a royal lifestyle with extravagant parties, balls, and dinners, access to the finest materials and food, a luxurious house designed to your liking, and any other desired indulgence. Fingolfin explicitly mentions that the house was created with your preferences in mind in hopes of ensuring some form of comfort is achieved.

An added benefit of the relationship is Fingolfin’s trust in your abilities as a mediator and leader. As a means to enhance communication, he gradually opens up and seeks your advice in the hopes of strengthening the arrangement.

☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Fingon

Initially, when the news was broken to him, Fingon found it all rather amusing. He doubled over and laughed in his father’s face, thinking it was some kind of joke. It took a while for the seriousness of the situation to sink in, and he soon realised that this was no laughing matter. Fingon is a free–spirited individual who believes in choosing when to marry, not never for political reasons, as was the case in this instance.

When you’re in the room, Fingon prefers to keep his anger in check and maintain a pleasant demeanour, as he doesn’t want to frighten you. He’s well aware that you had no say in this decision, and his father is the only one he has an issue with.

The sorrowful look on his face when he meets your eyes is heart–wrenching, as both of you are victims of politics. Despite the circumstances, he does his best to shield you from the harsh reality and maintain the illusion of a simple friendship.

Among all his siblings and his father, Fingon is undoubtedly the most agreeable elf to be married to. Despite his inner turmoil and his father’s constant pressure to make the relationship work, he remains cheerful and amiable in your company, ensuring your comfort throughout the entire engagement.

However, in the early days of the marriage, he was the complete opposite of his usual self, largely due to your reserved nature. He was distant and mostly silent as he grappled with controlling his temper, trying to figure out how to make the relationship work.

If he’s going to be your husband against his will, he’s determined to be the best one you could hope for. Do you require your space? You got it. Do you not wish to see or speak to him? He’ll respect it. Do you want him to stop pretending that everything’s perfect? You’ll get that as well, although it may not be what you expect.

“You might be expecting me to shout, scream, or completely ignore you. I couldn’t bring myself to do any of that, though, as it’s not how my mother raised me to behave when I’m dissatisfied... I understand that you see through the façade I put up; it’s mostly to get my father off my back. But it’s not an act when I’m around you.”

Count on Fingon to make your forced marriage bearable and tolerable. He alleviates the typical anxiety associated with arranged marriages by filling it with unconditional love, support, appreciation, and trust. He never lets the burden fall on you and always stands by your side, ready to defend you.

One thing he won’t tolerate is anyone belittling your role as his spouse, whether it’s from your family or his. He respects your choices and ensures that you’re comfortable before engaging in anything personal.

Fingon never rushes you into anything uncomfortable and allows you to make decisions, trusting your judgment and revealing his vulnerability. He sees this as a hopeful approach to overcoming the arranged marriage label that hangs over your heads.

☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Turgon

Even if it were his father delivering the news that an arranged marriage was necessary to uphold the family name, Turgon was on the verge of overturning a table and vanishing before his father could reveal your name. However, Turgon knew he wouldn’t get far before being compelled to return home and address the situation.

It was the gloomiest atmosphere in recent memory when he was in the room, glaring at your presence as you entered with your family. The whole ordeal made him feel nauseous, especially when he observed how supportive his mother was in the matter.

Turgon didn’t speak or acknowledge your existence. If you were residing in your preexisting home, you both slept in separate quarters. He even made an effort to become familiar with your schedule to ensure you didn’t cross paths because he wanted to avoid giving the impression of any interest in making things work.

It felt like living alone with a brooding spectre who constantly muttered under his breath as though he was casting a spell. He was quick to anger and often directed his frustration at everyone around him, not just his and your parents. Congratulations, you were arranged to someone who unjustly blamed you.

Like his cousins, you had to assert yourself and demand respect, forcing your voice above his constant grumbling.

“Listen, I’ll make this clear just once, so don’t make me repeat myself. Stop blaming me and direct your frustrations at my parents and yours. We’re in this together whether we like it or not—so accept it and put an end to the complaining, just like I did. We’re going to make this work—we don’t have to share a bed or be best friends, but we should find common ground and understanding. I won’t accept ‘no’ as an answer, as it’s proven to be pointless, so stop whining and work with me!”

You earned his respect because no one had the audacity to confront him like that without fearing his explosive anger. From that day on, there was a subtle change in the household routine, like not avoiding your schedules and sharing the same space (excluding the bedroom).

Any attempts at conversation were initiated by you, and you had to strain your ears to catch his mumbled responses. When it came to public appearances, he was as stiff as a board and communicated sparingly.

However, it was his instinct to defend you and his family if anyone made disrespectful comments about your situation. That was something for him and you to contemplate, not for others to meddle in, so someone would be put in their place. That night, you saw the most emotion from him apart from his temper.

An incident like that brought you both a step closer to displaying your emotions and feelings, particularly your protectiveness toward him. As simple as it may seem, he wanted to know about your day and if anyone insulted you when you were out. It was a step in the growth of your relationship.

☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Argon

Argon is fucking bewildered and struggling to comprehend the situation because he’s still a young individual being informed of an arranged marriage he never wanted. He responds with profanity and loud protests until his father intervenes to calm him down.

He despises every moment of it, particularly when he recalls how his cousins and brothers were subjected to the same process. He can’t believe he’s in the same situation despite his strong desire to find love on his own. Even if you were present in the room, his anger blinds him to your concern.

For days to weeks, you two may not exchange words, with occasional glances and stares being the only form of communication. Even after the marriage, he only engages in minimal conversation, ensuring your well–being and comfort in the shared space, though his tone is often filled with bitterness.

Initially, your marriage feels like cohabitating with a mere housemate, as your interactions are limited to household chores. Meaningful conversations based on your interests are virtually non–existent. It would take significant time and effort before either of you musters the courage to address the awkward silence in the house, ideally during breakfast.

“May I speak? No, it’s not about breakfast; it’s about us. We’ve been living like roommates for months, hardly even acquaintances. All we do together is eat and do chores. I know you’re still upset about this arrangement—so am I—but I’d appreciate it if we could replace this white noise with something resembling friendship. We’re already living together, so we’re past the stage of being strangers.”

Argon is genuinely sorry to discover that you desire more meaningful interactions rather than distance, which he had assumed. Your first breakthrough occurs when you jest about his misinterpretation of your gestures, breaking the awkward silence with a touch of Argon’s playful nature.

Following in the footsteps of his eldest brother, he emulates his gestures in the hopes of fostering a deeper connection. Although his emotions make him eager and impulsive, he doesn’t want you to bear the blame for his dissatisfaction.

Eventually, a level of vulnerability emerges in your discussions, allowing both of you to overcome this significant turning point in your lives. More joy and laughter infuse the household as you both express your opinions, views on the situation, and expectations for the future. Given his youth and the wealth of advice he’s received on arranged marriages, he engages in meaningful conversations to ensure you share the same expectations.

He has no intention of subjecting you to the mistreatment that others might inflict on their spouses, placing trust in you and expecting the same in return. For the majority of your marriage, despite lingering awkwardness, you manage to build a friendship with someone who is open and respectful.

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