#like I’m getting tired of people assuming I don’t know what I’m doing

[evenyvn]

Jealous?

rockstar!fem!reader x idol!seonghwa

summary : after a long busy day, you just want to slip under the blanket and sleep, atleast that is until you saw your boyfriend's recent post...

cw : sfw, kinda suggestive if you squint, hwa is a tease, this is a part of this series but can be read as a stand alone (i swear i will write for the others after this, I'm just crazy over his recent post so this is VERY self-indulgent as always).

masterlist

It's been a long day today, you got up early in the morning to practice for your up coming comeback with your group, and then spend a few more hours cooped up on your studio to write more songs.

Your bandmates have been grew worried by your state, the increasing stress from the up coming comeback is taking a toll on you, not to mentioned the constant feeling of missing your boyfriend—that's currently on tour right now—is making you locking yourself up in your own studio to compose more songs just to cope with the yearning, but surely it's only making your stress increase tenfold.

Sure, you both can text each others, but between the time zones differences and both of your busy schedule, you can only text each others 'good night' or 'good morning' more often than not.

And finally after a long day you just want to slip under your blanket and catch a few hours of sleep until you have to get up early again to repeat the same routine.

Now you sigh as you lie in bed, after you did your nightly routine and changed into comfortable sleeping clothes, you pull up your phone deciding to check up on your social media before going to bed, you were casually scrolling through your Instagram until you saw it.

Seonghwa had posted a photo dump.

The first two pictures were harmless—him in a bathrobe, the lights of the bathroom illuminating his face perfectly, his face looks tired from his shows but that makes him even more attractive to you, 'pretty' you thought as you smiled fondly and press the like button.

you scroll again to see the third picture—a picture of a cloud shaped bath bomb you assume, you giggled at the picture, aside from those gorgeous magazine worth of pictures seonghwa posts, he sometimes slip some silly things that caught his eyes.

But then you swiped.

And froze.

Seonghwa wasn’t fully in the water, but the image was just suggestive enough—his collarbones on full display covered by soap foams, wet strands of hair framing his face, water droplets on his skin catching the dim bathroom lighting in an almost artistic way. His gaze was sultry, plump lips slightly pouting, and—

You slammed your phone down.

Immediately, you snatched it back up, opening your messenger app and hit the FaceTime button after finding your boyfriend's contact.

It barely rang twice before Seonghwa picked up, his face appearing on screen. Except, instead of being anywhere near a bathtub, he was already in bed, dressed in his soft pajama shirt under the blanket. He was smiling—no, smirking—as if he had been expecting this call.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, his sleepy voice reached your ears, a little bit tired but still warm nonetheless with a hint of tease on the edge. “You miss me that much?”

you narrowed your eyes. “Don’t act cute. We need to talk.”

Seonghwa bit his lip to hold back a laugh. “About what?”

You huffed dramatically, sitting up. “Don’t about what me! You know exactly what I’m talking about. What is this—” You held up your other phone to show his Instagram post, specifically the bathtub pictures. “And why did you post it?!”

He chuckled, shifting under his blanket. “Ah… that?” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “You didn’t like it?”

“That’s not the problem,” you whined, pouting. “Do you see the comments? People are losing their minds, Seonghwa! Everyone’s going feral over you, and I’m stuck here alone while you’re on tour.”

Seonghwa hummed, clearly enjoying this. “Mmm… so you’re jealous?”

“Yes!” you admitted without hesitation. “I am very jealous! My man is out here looking like a whole art piece in the bathtub while I can’t even be there to—” you stopped yourself, mouth clamping down shut when you realized where your words were going.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow while smirking knowingly. “To…?”

You groaned, flopping onto your pillow. “You’re so annoying.”

His laugh was deep and full of amusement. “Baby, it’s just a picture.”

“Just a picture? hwa, people are drooling in the comments. One person even said, 'Born to ride, forced to scroll.’ Do you understand?”

Seonghwa grinned. “What does that even mean?.”

“It's- you know when- ugh nevermind" you huffed dejectedly as you struggle to explain, making your boyfriend chuckle at your frustrated state.

He laughed again before softening, tilting his head slightly. “You know you’re the only one I want, right?”

You peeked at him from your pillow, still sulking. “I know,” you muttered. “I just don’t like sharing. I thought those were just for my eyes only”

His smirk returned. “Oh? Should I delete it, then?”

You paused, eyes flickering to the post, finally deciding to scroll some more, a few more picture of him in the bathtub appear, you smiled slightly at the cute poses he did on the pictures before sighing. “… No, leave it.”

“Why?” he said with amusement in his voice.

You sighed dramatically. “Because even though I’m jealous, I also want to brag that my boyfriend is the finest man alive.”

Seonghwa chuckled, his gaze turning fond. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmured, voice laced with affection.

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled. “Just hurry home soon so I can remind people that you’re mine.”

His smirk deepened. “Oh? I’d like to see you try.”

Your stomach flipped. Stupid, smug, perfect boyfriend.

The call lasted for another hour, filled with teasing, laughter, and Seonghwa making sure you knew just how much he adored you. And even though you were still sulking over that picture, by the end of the night, you were smiling just as much as he was.

@.yn_luclipse tweeted :

divider by @/adornedwithlight | likes and reblogs are VERY appreciated ♡

[mosquego359]

𖤐One Kiss and A Quidditch Match — Chapter 7: Apologies𖤐

Prologue (recommended to read)

Chapter 6 (previous)

Pair: Cedric Diggory x Male Slytherin Reader

Word count: 2.7K words

Summary of the book: You and Cedric Diggory hate each other. It has always been this way. But everything changes one night when you kiss each other at a party. Now, it seems you can’t escape each other — from being partnered up in Herbology for an important project to having to help Cedric during the Triwizard Tournament.

Summary of the chapter: You and Cedric make up in the hospital wing and the headmaster, Dumbledore pays you an unpleasant visit.

Notes: Please comment on anything I should change to improve this. Also, I am not British so I am not 100% sure how to correctly write people from the UK. (I'm very sorry for the late ass update but motivation hates me)

Content warning: None

!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION OR CREDIT TO ME!

...

You wake up in a dark and silent room. Every candle was snuffed out, and not a sound could be perceived. You weren’t sure when you were; you couldn’t even move your body, but when you did, you felt a sharp pain in your temple and let out a yelp.

Suddenly, you heard something, a shuffling noise from somewhere on the right side of the room. Someone rushed to your side and lay your head back down on what you assumed was a pillow.

“Don’t push yourself, (Name). Go back to sleep,” said the person. His voice was deep and soft, and despite not knowing who it was, you felt a sense of familiarity and generally liked the man’s voice.

When he stopped talking, you were slightly disappointed but followed his orders.

After a few minutes, you drifted back to sleep.

When you awoke once more, sunlight streamed through the window, and you could see that it was perhaps dawn or dusk. Since the light illuminated your vision, you could see the room you lay in, which was the infirmary.

You felt a weight on your legs and looked down to see Winnie’s head and arms resting on them. She was snoring lightly, a book sprawled next to her. 

The noise of shuffling caught your attention and looking up, you noticed your old rival, Cedric Diggory, sitting in the corner to the right, flipping the pages of a novel with a faded red cover. He seemed lost in thought, his chin posed onto his palm until he looked up and caught your gaze.

“(Name) (Surname). You’re awake,” he noted, placing his book down on the windowsill and walking up to your bedside. He placed a warm hand on your temple, “Are you feeling all right? Dizzy? Tired?”

“I’m okay,” You croaked, your voice dry. How long were you out? 

“Here,” Diggory grabbed a glass from your nightstand and brought it to your lips. Since you still felt a little weak and your arms were numb, you acquiesced, gulping down the water. A few drops dribbled down your chin, but Diggory wiped them away.

“Be careful.”

“What happened?” you questioned after finishing the glass.

You didn’t miss the way Diggory averted his eyes at the question, he was embarrassed by his brash actions, and you could tell, “Well, a Bludger hit your broom, breaking it, so it was rather unstable. You ended up losing control over it and the wind knocked you into a tree.” You flinched at the memory, but he wasn’t done. “You hit your head and I flew down to get you. I used my wand to bring the Bludgers back into the case and brought you to the infirmary.”

“How long was I out for?” You wondered out loud.

“Well, I’d say around a day and a half. I’m sure it was over 24 hours since you were unconscious at six on a Friday, and we’re Sunday morning. But, I think you were somewhat conscious last night.”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“I heard you yelp and, although it might have just been a dream, I swore you raised your head. Your eyes were closed, though.”

You nod along, faintly remembering waking up in a dark room and hearing a soft, deep voice. Your cheeks flushed at the memory of thinking that it was nice, and you hoped that Diggory didn’t notice.

Unfortunately for you, he did.

A frown spread across his handsome face, “Are you feeling alright?” he pressed the back of his hand to your forehead.

When he pulled away, you just had to ask, “Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, ever since I woke up, you’ve been treating me like your best mate. What changed? Me hitting my head. Doubtful.”

Diggory looked away. Then, careful not to put too much weight on the bed, sat down. 

Winnie — who was on the other side — stirred in her sleep. She shuffled a bit, then settled down and started snoring once more.

“I realised something, (Surname),” Diggory mumbled, trying not to wake Winnie, “We can keep going on like this. After you fell, Professor Sprout told me the houses were at each other’s throats. She said you already knew. I-I was so blinded by our rivalry that I just never noticed how it was hurting the people around me. I was stubborn. You were ready to change, I saw it in your eyes. But I acted so stupid and you got hurt by my actions.” He looked straight into your eyes, “I don’t want to be the reason someone is injured.”

A long silence passes between the two of you. Your mind was racing, and you were shocked. Was he really apologising? You waited for a moment, expecting him to laugh or say, “just kidding”, but he was dead serious.

You looked down at your hands, “Truth be told, I haven’t been the best, and getting hurt was partially my fault.” Diggory was about to say something to shift the blame back to him, but you quickly interrupted, “Sometimes…you make me stupid things just to prove a point. I was scared up there, but I didn’t say anything so you didn’t think any less of me.”

“I like being your rival,” you admitted, hands playing with the sheets, “You push me to do things I would never do otherwise — like get me back on my broom — but right now, it’s so toxic. ”

Diggory nodded in agreement, “I agree. You’re honestly someone I look up to. You’re skilled both academically and in the air. Ever since second year, I considered you as someone I wanted to be like.”

You laughed, peering at him through your eyelashes, “I didn’t realise our rivalry lasted that long.”

You saw Diggory smile nervously at the comment, “Yeah, it’s a bit stupid that we’ve never managed to have a civil conversation since then. Do you remember why I hated you?”

You dug through your memories of Year 2 but found nothing. It had been a long time since then, and one of the only memorable moments was your first Quidditch Match, and even that was a rather faded memory. 

You did recall the rivalry starting when he bragged about scoring higher on a Potions assessment and getting mad — back then and even now, you regarded your academic performances very highly.

You decided to shoot your shot with the second memory, “Was it when you scored higher during a Potions test?” Then, you realised it didn’t make any sense that he was the one who purposefully started your rivalry by bragging — he had never been that type of person — and back-tracked, “Wait, no, did you play in Quidditch back in Year 2? Although, I don’t recall you being the Seeker.”

“Yeah, that was when. Back then, I was the extra Keeper, not the Seeker, so when my teammate was hurt, I’d step in,” Diggory explained, “I still have the memory of your win. If I had stopped the Quaffle, then maybe…” he trailed off.

You tilted your head, trying to wrap your thoughts around the situation, “So you hated me because I scored the last goal in the Hogwarts’ Quidditch Tournament four years ago?”

“Well, not quite, it’s more complex than that,” he said, but then added, “Actually, come to think of it, that sound rather stupid, doesn’t it?” He chuckled.

Diggory hummed, resting his palm on his hand, “It was more like…I wasn’t just mad at you. You made me hate myself for not being able to catch a stupid Quaffle. I felt that I let Hufflepuff down, and seeing you, a kid in the same bloody year as me, get all the Slytherins’ attention for winning a tournament I was so passionate about just messed me up a bit.” He took a deep breath and lowered his voice, “I blamed you for something that wasn’t your fault. And I blamed myself because I couldn’t blame another Hufflepuff. I’m sorry, (Name).”

You were both silent for a moment but for different reasons. You — still having woken up from a concussion mere minutes ago — were trying to comprehend the entire situation while Diggory felt like he had no words left, nothing more to say. He awaited your reaction.

Then, it finally clicked for you, and you sighed, “I’m…I’m sorry too, Diggory. We should have talked about this sooner instead of being at each others’ throats all these years. Who knows, we could have been friends if not for that.”

His hand covered his mouth but you saw him smile through the crack in between his fingers, “What a duo we could have made.”

Then, the silence reigned the room again, although this time, it was a comfortable silence, one where your thoughts would drift across your mind, and you could hear the birds chirping outside. A silence so calm and peaceful that you needn’t say a word.

An unexpected sound stirred the quiet; a shuffling coming from the right side of your bed where Winnie lay. She was so still before, that you hardly noticed her. Now, your legs felt numb from being laid on by your friend.

“Izzit morning already?” Winnie mumbled and yawned. She cracked her eyes open just a little. It wasn’t until she noticed your (eye colour) eyes that she awoke fully and bounced off of your lower body. It was like a jolt of electricity had been sent through her entire being and she practically jumped onto you. You felt the air leave your lungs.

“(Name)! You’re alive! Oh, how we missed you.” She pulled back to check your face, “Are you alright? Does your head hurt? Are you sleepy? How are you feeling? Thirsty? Hungry? Confused??” 

“I think you should lay off the poor boy, Campbell,” Diggory suggested.

Unlike the majority of your friend group, Winnie never had a grudge towards him. In fact, neither of them realised they were on opposite sides until you and Winnie started hanging out more frequently in public and you got into an argument with Diggory. Of course, that didn’t affect their relationship — they weren’t particularly close anyway — mainly since Winnie wouldn’t partake in the fights.

“Oh, sorry!” She jumped off of you in a blink, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head calmly, feeling a wave of sleepiness wash over you; all that talking finally caught up to you, “I’m all right Winnie, just feeling a bit tired. I think I’m going to go back to sleep soon.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that right now, Mr. (Surname).” A wise voice spoke from near the entrance of the infirmary. 

The three of you turned to see Madame Pomfrey and Headmaster Dumbledore standing in the doorway. Oh, Merlin, not him. The old man continued one more, “Ms. Campbell, do you mind leaving us for a moment? I need to have a private chat with these two young men.”

Winnie looked at you, a bit hurt and confused, and you motioned her to leave with a nod. Madame Pomfrey ushered her out and followed, closing the door behind herself.

With that, you were left alone with your ex-rival and probably the only person in the school that you’ve never liked throughout your education at Hogwarts. Of course, you could comprehend why the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs liked him and even why some Ravenclaws did as well. He was generally a well-regarded wizard: powerful and capable of protecting the school if anything happened.

But, like most Slytherins — and most of Hogwarts, in fact — you saw how much better he treated the Gryffindors compared to the others and his dislike towards your own house. You knew if he could, he’d automatically fail all the Slytherins. You never understood why he hated your house. Perhaps because it was the same as many dark wixes, including He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, yet you found it odd that he would let those prejudices affect his view on all Slytherins.

“Now, Mr. Diggory, Mr. (Surname), I’d like to discuss on what happened on Friday.” The headmaster said, “From what I understand, you both tought it to be a good idea to play a Quidditch match, just the two of you, outside in the tempest. Am I correct.”

You nodded, “Kind of, although there’s more to the story than that.”

Dumbledore sighed, “You know we cannot accept such impudence in Hogwarts, especially with guests around. You are lucky barely anyone has been informed of the incident. I was expecting more from students such as yourself.”

“For such immature behaviour, I’m going to have to remove points from your Houses. Such a dangerous situation cannot be overlooked, and the punishment will be harsh. I will be taking away 100 points from Slytherin.”

Both you and Diggory paused, awaiting him to continue.

It was you who broke the silence, a bit pissed off, “What about Diggory?”

Dumbledore tsked, “The involvement of Mr. Diggory, the Hogwarts Champion would be problematic for our reputation, thus I must unfortunately appoint the punishment to you, Mr. (Surname). Besides, you were the one to hurt yourself while flying, it’s only just.”

You looked at him with your mouth agape and a wall of rage building up in your heart, but before you could utter a word, Diggory spoke, “Headmaster, if I may. It wasn’t (Surname)’s fault.”

“Come again, Mr. Diggory?”

“Well, first of all, the fight was my idea. I pressured (Surname) to do it, although he clearly just wanted to have a civilized conversation with me. Not only that, but it was also my fault for his injuries. I wanted to prove myself to be better than him, so I added the Bludgers as an extra challenge, and (Surname) got hurt because of my stupid actions. If there’s anyone to punish, it’s me.”

Dumbledore considered this for a moment, “Again, we can’t have you involved, Mr. Diggory; it would make Hogwarts seem like a school who choses irresponsible people as our Champion and we cannot have that-”

“Then don’t afflict any punishment,” Diggory retorted, “We’re making up already. Arguing was the source of this incident, and now that we’ve communicated, it will not happen anymore.”

Dumbledore paused, rather taken aback at how much Diggory was defending you, and truth be told, so were you. Was this perhaps his way of redeeming himself in your eyes? 

“Mr. Diggory, I assure you, it is not that simple. What would the people think?”

“They don’t need to know.” Diggory responded, “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, Headmaster, but it’s clearly antagonizing (Surname), despite him doing no wrong. I don’t know what grudge you have against him, but you should push it aside when assigning punishments.”

That surely stunned Dumbledore into silence. “Very well. No points shall be removed, but I expect you to be on your best behaviour.” He said curtly, although you swore it was directed mainly towards you.

The old man tipped his hat and bid both of you a good day as he left the infirmary.

When the door closed fully, you turned to Diggory, “Why did you do that for me? We’re not friends and I didn’t think that a simple chat about our feelings would flip your whole personality and opinion on me.”

“Well, I can’t say I consider you as someone close, either. But I’m trying to improve on myself for the good of our school and our peers.” He told you calmly, “But for now, I have to get breakfast and study I don’t think being the Hogwarts champion excuses me from my duties as a student.” He smirked briefly at you. “If you’d like, I can come over again.”

You smiled back, your eyelids feeling heavy at every word he said, “If you want to, but you don’t got to Diggory.”

As he neared the doorway, his book — which you had completely forgotten about — tucked under his arm, he turned back towards you, “Please, call me Cedric.”

...

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[skinreflectsthesun]

.

[pilonciillo]

lol didn’t think someone giving money would give me anxiety

[mymelodyisme]

My sister’s graduation day 😤 let’s go 👏🏽

[timmydraker]

Tim calls a family meeting and everyone is assuming he’s got a big case he needs help with, which is alarming for someone who refuses to admit that some cases are beyond him.

So, everyone shows up at the cave only to be ordered upstairs by Alfred. For those who only showed up to make fun of Tim for needing help, this is confusing because case work ain’t allowed upstairs.

All do them figure out quickly that this means it’s not to do with Gotham or Ref Robin, but the man behind the mask.

Bruce and Dick were there first and because Damian is always with one of them, so is he.

Steph picks up Barbara and Cass, with Duke already at home and Jason showing up at the same time as Kate and Lucius.

When they all get into the lounge room used for when people are over, just two doors down from the actual family room, they all find themselves chatting casually as they stave off their own worries or confusion. Some of them try find out if anyone knows what’s going on, but when Alfred and Barbara reveal they have no idea, they give up and make a few guesses but no more.

When Tim finally comes in after Alfred received him, he looks tired.

It’s not usual for Tim to get distracted with work and not sleep for a while, but he will conk out for hours when he decides to and wake up alright.

The bags under his eyes, the redness within them, and the way he looks close to tucking himself into a ball…

Bruce is immediately leaning forward, opening his mouth to make sure his son is okay but Tim just raised a hand to silence him. “Just… just let me speak, okay? I need to do it now or I’m not going to be able to.”

Everyone gives him a nod or look of understanding, making him twitch a smile before inhaling deeply and psyching himself up.

“I have cancer.”

…

Nobody speaks as Tim exhales shakily.

Everyone is staring wide eyed at the young man before them, who just reached the legal drinking age, and trying to asses his physical form for an understanding of what he just said. They���re all trying to gain X-ray vision to see exactly what is hurting him all while trying to convince themselves they heard him wrong.

Tim closes his eyes and speaks automatically, leaning into facts like he always does when he’s freaking out, “I noticed I was getting by more tired and fatigued around last year. My doctor said I have a low white cell count but he wasn’t alarmed as it was still in the normal range. But a few months ago I started to note that bruises were taking far too long to heal and I was getting a lot of pain around my joints and bones.”

He inhaled again, shakier than before at the same time that Alfred sits himself down with a hand over his mouth.

“It’s stage 2 and because of my lack of a spleen it’s going to be a harder process for treatment but fortunately I own a medical company so there’s that at least.” He makes a sort of joking smile that falters immediately, falling into a pulled back frown that comes with someone whose about to sob as he adds, “But it’s also aggressive so I-I don’t know how-how to-fuck-“

Dick and Cass are immediately moving off the couches they are on and catch him as he finally crumbles into himself.

Bruce is next to follow, the stoic man openly crying for the first time in years.

Jason and Damian are in shock, both frozen in place as dread takes over their minds.

Steph is looking out the window, as if staring at some kind of his or deity and demanding an expiration as to why they have to hurt her loved ones so badly. She’s crying, but it’s silent which is all the more harrowing.

Lucius places a hand on Alfred’s shoulder to comfort the elder even as he himself itches to go comfort the young boy who helped him run the company when he was at his worst.

Kate leaves the room to go call Bette, needing her mentor because this is just something she can’t handle.

Duke is sobbing into his hands as he leans into Barbara’s lap. Barbara who is clinging to him like a lifeline as she feels her world shift once again, feeling so angry and confused at how one of them could be threatened like this. Of all the ways they could go out, was it really going to be cancer?

It was a harrowing experience for all of them to remember that they were human in more than just their flesh being able to bleed and be wounded, but for it to grow sick. For it to age and attack itself.

They were human at the end of the day and Tim…

In Metropolis, Clark Kent rushed into the bathroom at his work to throw up as he heard a conversation miles away.

[galene-gothic]

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗏𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾’𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES TIP JAR

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 1 ꒱

꒰ Your current personality ꒱

You are someone who has dealt with aggression or passive aggression from other people who created drama in your life. These people were I’m hearing - egoistic, competitive and jealous, the kind to see the glass half empty. The energy that I’m getting is a group of ‘friends’ ganging up against you, just for the fun of it, so that they could possibly knock you down to a peg. That’s what their purpose seems to have been. Also, recently, if not throughout life, you’ve dealt with other people just disliking you, trying to humiliate you, backhanded jokes, mean comments to your face, etc. There was just this aggression that you could pick up from other people, even if they didn’t say anything, in fact, this energy might be even stronger now. Let me give you a simple question, did you achieve something, start working or just earning in some way? If yes, there’s your answer right there. Every time you’ll achieve something as simple as a small internal or external accomplishment, you’re going to have other people start feeling all worked up towards you for no reason. It is going to amplify the strongest when you get your first job/salary/earning of some sort and when you get into a relationship with someone. Right now, you are working through your shadows and revelations that came forth due to power struggle between you, and others that you decided to peacefully step out of while you had been forced into isolation or taken up solitude. You have an interesting personality as in, you like when others are jealous of you and there’s some drama due to it because it’s flattering but at the same, you don’t enjoy it because you’re someone who seeks peace. I just heard Regina George’s “and I was like ‘why are you so obsessed with me?’” You can’t deny that you do find it flattering how people seem to be kind of obsessed with you to some extent honestly. This is something you do not express outwardly to most people though. You are someone who is finding the strength to feel the beauty in life after a pretty long time. ‘Epiphany’ by Jin of BTS is the energy that I’m getting here. While, you were in this period of solitude, feeling weak and tired from the extreme aggression that you seem to have received from either a group of people or different people around the same time, you realised that you’re the one you should love and take care of. There were days when you couldn’t get out of bed without really really pushing yourself to do it but now, it’s just not as bad, you seem to be more enthusiastic about taking care of yourself. You have an iron heart but not in a bad way, you’re just very firm as a person in the actions that you take. You hold a silent power that you operate with and I’m calling this silent power because despite your actual personality and character being a certain way, you’re perceived to be pretty soft as a person. You’re someone who seems to fear abandonment and attachment, possibly due to your past experiences because you seem to have walked away from people and you’re firm in the decisions you make in regards to your life. No matter what you were like in the past, now if you choose to walk away, that’s it, you’ve walked away. You’re so much of a peace seeker that you avoid anyone you can if they even slightly disrupt your peace. People tend to view you as this loving person who’s emotionally volatile, insecure, uncertain about themselves and easy to manipulate. Also, someone warm with good intentions and very imaginative.

Which is why they think you’d be easy to manipulate because they may assume that they can sell you dreams and fantasies but little do they know, you demand and expect respect from others. They don’t realise that while you are a pretty peaceful person who is actively working on themselves, you crave power strongly. They don’t realise that you’ll always end up finding a way to have the upper-hand in any situation. I’m not sure what it is but you lack certain morals when you stop caring about people. You’re very in control of yourself by this point, in the past you used to think that knowledge was power so you tried to keep the other person mentally stimulated in order to keep them in your life, and you could have expressed certain thoughts in a more forceful and pushy manner but you may have realised that this is a trait of yours, and might be trying to get rid of it for the best? You’ve become very stern hearted as in, you don’t mind leaving people and situations without thinking much or without much evidence? You don’t really have it in you to wait it out anymore. Once you walk away, you also become closed off to communication in any form. You are someone who fakes happiness but still very in touch with your negative emotions, thoughts and patterns internally. Emotionally, you like for connections to develop naturally and kind of slowly, you’re someone who doesn’t jump into being all passionate and lovey dovey with someone as soon as you meet them. You’re like “I only know them for two weeks, I don’t know if they’re even a good person at all. They probably do not hold any loyalty towards me this early on, I do not need to trust them yet” is the way you approach connections these days, whether you’re aware of it or not. You’re also someone who carries most of your emotions by yourself. Even in your connections with others in the past, you’ve been the one to carry the most of the burdens. The connections wouldn’t even have carried on that long if it wasn’t for you doing all if not most of the work. However, now you’re someone who is driven towards goals and on a dedicated mission to succeed, that’s why your emotions seem to be much more reliant on yourself and your own progress than other people, and interpersonal connections. There have been situations that led you to ending some sort of conflict (or multiple ones) and detach caused you to feel powerless, underestimated, unworthy and manipulated in some way? You are focused on taking your power back now because you’ve realised that you’re not powerless? Like, ‘things can only hold power for as long as you let it hold your attention’ is what I heard. You’re trying to get more in control of your life but you’re not doing so in a restrictive manner. You’re releasing any and every old bond, one by one and have grown resistant to many kinds of temptations that you would have fallen for in the past. You’re breaking free as a person and developing more audacity in the best way possible is what I’m hearing. You’re reclaiming your power and are taking empowering choices. You’re letting go of limiting beliefs that seem to have had you trapped at some point, beliefs that you’re unworthy, that you’re not powerful that’s why others dislike you and find it easy to walk all over you. You’re realising that they feel the need to crush you, not because you’re weak but because they are and that they want to feel powerful by crushing other people. You realise the power that you have a person after a long time and you know that you haven’t even fully stepped into it yet but you’re getting there.

꒰ Your future spouse’s personality when you’ll be together ꒱

They’re going to be a very contemplative person when they’re by themselves. They will have this ability to look for beauty in everything. They’ll value passion greatly and will be able to find not only beauty but also wisdom, knowledge and I’m not sure what word to use but a feeling of peace mixed with passion and love for something universal, not anything all that divine but just a zest for life itself? I hope you understand what I’m trying to express right now. They’re going to be the type to overanalyse situations and people. I do not recommend trying to get them jealous or something of that sort because they’re going to get defensive and argue. Honestly, if you like your men (or women) obsessed and slightly possessive, you are going to love what I’m telling you. They’re going to stalk your social media pages, keep tabs on you, ask you where you’re going, who you’re going with, etc. If you tell them that you are going out with your friends and one of your friends is very active on socials, they’re going to view their stories to see if you’re with them, who all are present and what you are up to. They’re going to have a positive outlook on life after having undergone emotional lows, dealt with negative emotions, letting go and forgiven themself, and others. They are going to be extremely ride or die when it comes to you. They’re going to be there to support you and will be committed to being with you through thick and thin. They’re going to overcome loneliness, thanks to you and they’ll be utterly grateful to you for that. They’re going to find themself becoming more secure due to your connection and they’ll want to provide you with a secure home too. They’re going to have more trust, hope and faith in life, and I’m getting that it’s going to be because of you. You’re going to be welcomed by them with open arms. They’re going to be a lavish spender and could indulge in something like a substance though. I’m not getting it being in excess amount but lol, the money spending, indulging in just life, whatever their guilty pleasure is is going to be very big. They’re going to be a go getter when it comes to their goals. For some of you, they could be a protein junkie who eats a lot but then works out equally as much. The part I just mentioned is not going to be applicable for all of you.

They’re made for success because they are willing to work for it. I just heard “I can’t complain about having a lot on my plate when my goal was to eat.” There are going to be moments when they will misjudge you, they’ll doubt themself which could lead to some unfair blame and false accusations but they’re not going to let it get there. I just heard “it’s not your fault that they hover, I mean no disrespect. It’s my right to be hellish, I still get jealous.” However, emotionally they are going to be heavily committed to you. To them, you’re basically going to be one with them. They’re going to have a pretty good sex drive that will be emotionally driven because of how much they’ll love you. They will be an optimistic person usually and very passionate when it comes to you, and life itself. They’re going to crack a lot of jokes with you and also their friends. I’m getting the two of you just sitting there, making fun of the way someone said something or did something and having a good laugh about it. They’re going to want to be a good spouse and partner. They’re not just going to want you to be their spouse so that they can say that they have someone, it’s going to be deep and emotionally fulfilling to them. ‘Ishq sufiyana’ or ‘divine, passionate and deep love’ is literally how your connection is going to be, it’s going to be sort of divine in nature or at least that’s how they’ll perceive. They’re going to feel like the impossible is possible with you due to the synergy that you’ll share, a very divine and deep one that will only make them feel like they come alive even more everyday. They’re going to feel like you’re their soulmate and are going to act the part with you. They’re going to be so emotionally content with you and the family you’ll create (even if it’s just the two of you), they won’t be able to stay away from you, like they just won’t. Supposing, they have to travel for work, they’ll feel like their heart isn’t beating the way it should, only after they come back home to you will they feel fine again. The two of you are going to bond because much like you they’re also a silent power and iron hearted. It only makes your love more real though. They’re going to be very childlike though, like no matter how much they grow up, they’ll always continue being like their child self i.e. kind, fun loving, pure and innocent but just in a bigger and more grown body 😭. You gotta be careful with their heart, they’re so pure, they need to be protected for real. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 2 ꒱

꒰ Your current personality ꒱

In the past, you used to be someone who used to work in harmony with others and almost blended with others in a way where you even started thinking, and looking at things from their perspective even if it was hurtful and disrespectful towards you. You’ve grown to become someone who values passion and has a very passionate nature that you, yourself are aware of, and you have this understanding now that you’re not as helpless as you once felt. You might feel like even though the helplessness felt real back then, it never really was. One thing that you seem to be aware of is that others did put you in this situation of helplessness but instead of being all “I’m the victim”, even though you have the awareness that you didn’t deserve it, you’re instead reasonably accepting where others did you wrong and where you did yourself wrong. You don’t seem to care as much about what others think anymore. You are starting to become more empowered but you know that this is not the end, that you’ll only grow to become more and more empowered going forward until you fully step into your power. You are at a phase where you find it both funny and angering that you let yourself be trapped by shitty people and shitty situations. You’re not being excessively hard on yourself anymore though. Instead, your life is changing and you’ve made the choice to actively change for the best too. You’re embracing transformations and all the events of the past that are helping you grow into a new version of yourself. You’re still in the process of it. You’ve become very cutthroat and don’t mind being mean. You realise that your boundaries were too low at some point, your standards were too low which led to you experiencing low quality experiences so you’re honestly a bit defensive. You’re reestablishing your boundaries and have already managed to do enough of it. You’re very firm in your boundaries at this point and desire to be yourself, even if it offends others. You’re also very hardworking and have this desire to improve your skills, and build new ones. You value routines, self improvement and productivity these days, and actively try to manage them. You still hurt sometimes but I’m getting that compared to how much you hurt the past and how helpless, and trapped you felt, this is nothing. Hurtful memories and thoughts pop up into your mind sometimes but you are choosing not to operate from that state of hurt at this point. Emotionally, you’re giving yourself a chance to be a kid, you’re going yourself a chance for newness, you’re giving yourself a chance to dream and to feel happy, joyful and grateful despite all the pain that you’ve experienced. You’re starting to find and develop this new passion for life and yourself, and also a new way of thinking and communicating that is creating this contentment within you. You’re starting to count your blessings is what I’m hearing. There was once a time when you wished for nothing more than to change, to be open to newness and now you have it, despite feeling heavy hearted sometimes, usually you’re pretty content and satisfied these days even if you’re not filled with utter joy, you still have an inner joy within you.

You’re planning your future based on your passions while trying to make the most out of your life right in the present moment. I saw this video on Instagram, basically the girl asks god to make her life better than 99% of the people and god fulfils her wish but she ends up living the same life she currently has because her life is better than 99% of the people already. You seem to be sort of aware of the fact that despite the problems, you also have your own set of blessings anyway so you’re choosing to not let the sorrow and negativity you feel sometimes overpower you. You value passion so much, you probably think about sex a lot too. On a soul level, you fear being abandoned, betrayed and hurt. You fear being heavily emotionally involved with people just to be left behind. You’ve realised that the realest connections are those that flow naturally yet at its own time and not the connections where you seem to vibe right away just to be disillusioned later. You’ve learned many tough lessons through the tough realisations that you had when you had to accept things as they were. You’re very passionate and seem to be focused on your goals in some way. You’ve realised that no one can bring you the happiness that you can bring yourself. You try to be enough for yourself while also actively developing as a person. You have a great zest for exploring and seeing where life has to take you. You’re sort of detached and yet anticipating growth, and change in your life. Your approach to connections have changed, you want to be the one who gets approached and pursued. You have this desire to leave all of your past behind, to simply be present and you’re doing really well, I would say. You sometimes think “just like I desire connections, other people also desire connections. They can come to me if they’d like.” Your standards for the people you’re going to let in seem to be pretty high too. You are proud that you have matured enough to not look at your past too nostalgically. You’ve become someone who doesn’t value your history with people as much anymore, you only value what their recent and current actions show you. You’ve given up on carrying the burdens of connections solely by yourself, you prefer dealing with your emotions by yourself and these days dealing with negative emotions for you is to just letting them go, just letting them slip away. You’re someone who prioritises self care and is deliberately taking care of yourself. Emotionally, you’re remaining a lot of control within yourself. You’re at a point where if anyone tries to get you out of your emotionally peaceful zone, you’re going to get angry and possibly blow up. You’re very selfless emotionally and desire someone so strikingly and unconditionally kind, and selfless in your life that you would naturally feel like you can give out unconditionally, selflessly and generously. You also think about virtues like kindness and selflessness a lot because it’s innately in your nature. Despite choosing to have stronger boundaries and not being as selfless as you once were, you’re still kind and giving in some way. You seem to have a lot of faith in yourself. You believe that the grass will always be greener for you no matter where you end up because you have the resources to and are willing to water it.

꒰ Your future spouse’s personality when you’ll be together ꒱

Your future spouse is someone who doesn’t mind leaving people behind. I keep on getting something about peace here, they do not like it when people try to mess with their peace of mind. There seem to have been times in community settings like school, church, etc. or work settings in which people have taken offence to their presence for no reason and made it their mission to humiliate, hurt and leave your person out within those environments. Something like this could have happened during their school life, possibly middle school for some of them or highschool which has caused this thing to stay deep within their psyche. “I can never forget” is what I’m hearing. They will still be carrying some baggage from that time. What seems to have been even more heartbreaking for them was that they didn’t even feel like they belonged anywhere. Some of them didn’t even feel like belonged within their own family. “You’re in the wind, I’m in the water, nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.” They didn’t feel like they belonged anywhere so wherever they were was their home. They’ll know how to take good care of themself. They’ll also be good natured and genuinely consider others including you obviously. They’re going to put a lot of emphasis onto both self care and selflessness. When they were younger, they felt like they were loved only when they tangibly added onto other’s lives so they naturally tried to be of service to others but at some point, they found out that they could be disrespected despite what they do for others but they found an inner joy when giving out freely and selflessly so they will try to give out to those who they think deserve, and need it. It seems to be very subconscious, something that they won’t be aware of. They’re going to worry about your well-being and quite literally the type to scold you if you tell them that you haven’t eaten yet. They’re going to be the one to pursue a connection with you and will be very sensitive, and tactful. They’ll know just what to say to make your heart flutter and slowly open up to trusting them. They’re going to be a true romantic and such a charmer. Like, you won’t even be able to stay mad at them because they’ll know just how to melt your heart. I’m getting that whenever you’re with them, you’ll just be smiling ear to ear. Despite the baggage that they’ll be carrying, they’re going to be a very present person. Some of them are also going to be very physically active as well. They’re going to know how to make you feel special by expressing their gratitude for you. “You know, I don’t know how I got so lucky to get with you.” The love that you’re going to share is going to feel surreal in nature due to how well they’ll treat you. They’re going to be quite a flirt with you. In fact, I don’t like to say this and it’s not intentional but due to how smooth their tongue naturally is, there will be moments when you’ll probably get mad about them flirting with others. I’m getting a very golden retriever kind of a personality from them.

They’re going to be very touchy with you in little ways such as resting their head on your shoulder, tugging at your sleeves, kissing your shoulder, kissing your neck, so on and so forth. Despite moments when you’ll get upset about their smooth tongue, they’re going to make it up to you by romancing you. They’re also going to be genuinely remorseful because despite their intentions, they’re going to understand where you’re coming from. They’re going to be the type to pepper you with kisses all over your face while apologising to you. Instead of jumping to be all defensive when you point out something that hurts you or makes you feel less secure within the connection, they’re instead going to take accountability for their actions and tongue, and genuinely try to make it up to you and will try not repeat the same thing in the future. They’re honestly very pure of heart. They’re going to be a bit more secretive about their negative emotions initially but you’ll be able to see right through them because the connection you’ll share will be very youthful in nature. Like, you’re going to bring out their inner child so you’ll naturally end up seeing their vulnerabilities. Even throughout the marriage, late into it, they’re going to have the biggest crush on you. Honeymoon phase? What is that? They’ll only know your connection. They’ll be psychically connected to you. You’ll understand each other without having to say much if anything at all. I just heard ‘completing each other’s sentences’. Deep into the marriage, they’re going to break down in front of you and legit cry, not caring about gender roles, and stereotypes. I’m getting that your marriage is going to be one where there will not be particular gender roles, they’re going to want to take care of you and the household in any way possible, and you’ll want to do the same. There could be some childhood or abandonment wound for many of your future spouses. They’re going to have worked on healing their wounds of not having been enough in the past, of having been left out in the cold, of having been abandoned time and time again. They could have felt abandoned by their family emotionally and financially, like even if they had family, it was basically as good as not having any. Not every one of them is going to have had a bad family life but they’ll still have dealt with abandonment in the past and will have dealt with the aftermath of that. They’ll have released the grief and will be moving forward with you after having overcome a lot of despair. They’re going to have an understanding of what’s truly valuable and that’s going to be you, that’s going to be the present moment and just life as it is. You’re going to heal their inner child, make their inner child feel happy and safe, and they could never not love you due to who you are and how you make them feel. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 3 ꒱

꒰ Your current personality ꒱

You are a loving, kind and nurturing person who is thinking about how you’re never anyone’s first choice. ‘Nobody’ by Mitski is coming through here. You have always been very empathetic and kind, often even trying to look at things from the other person’s perspective and just remaining eternally loving, and empathetic. ‘You’re losing me’ by Taylor Swift is coming through. “How long could we be a sad song? Till we were too far gone to bring back to life. I gave you all my best me’s, my endless empathy and all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier. Fighting in only your army, frontlines, don’t you ignore me. I’m the best thing at this party (you’re losing me) and I wouldn’t marry me either - a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her.” You’ve developed this mindset of “what’s the point of genuinely doing for people if they won’t even recognise it or appreciate it?” You used to have good intentions towards people and tried to be there for them in tangible ways. You’re thinking about all the times that you were neglecting yourself by trying to be there for others just because you wanted to remain unconditionally loving. You wonder if you were scared to be lonely sometimes. You’re adjusting your priorities currently because you feel like you’re being unable to take care of yourself as well as you could. A very specific message but someone here could have not been taking their medicines or multivitamins for a few days now, possibly a week or so (maybe you ran out of it or just forgot). Due to how everyone has preferred someone else over you, you sometimes wonder if you’re just that unworthy or at least if people deem you to be so. Internally, you seem to be aware that you’re a very worthy and admirable person but for some reason, it seems to remain unrecognised by others which confuses you. Your self esteem seems to be really low and you’re a bit more self reliant these days because in the past, being kind, loving and social, someone who gave a lot led you to nothing but humiliation, disrespect and loneliness. I’m hearing that song in my head but it’s been such a long time since I’ve heard it, I’m not sure what the lyrics are. Just looked it up and “what do you get when you fall in love? A guy with a pin to burst your bubble, that’s what you get for all your trouble. I'll never fall in love again”, “what do you get when you kiss a guy? You get enough germs to catch pneumonia. After you do, he'll never phone ya. I'll never fall in love again”, “don’t tell me what it's all about ‘cause I've been there and I'm glad I'm out, out of those chains, those chains that bind you” and “what do you get when you fall in love? You only get lies and pain and sorrow. So for at least until tomorrow. I'll never fall in love again.” I’m also getting that you have money and career on your mind, that’s what your main area of concern these days is. You felt left out in the cold, actually, it’s not just a feeling, you were in fact left out in the cold. You pretty much had your life turned upside down and everything stripped away from you. Currently, you’re trying to climb up this rock bottom and have already made significant progress. There seems to be a lot of financial responsibility placed upon you so there are times when you get into small disagreements and discussions with people because of money?

Probably just family members. You could feel like there is no one to not only emotionally support you but also financially support you. Someone in your family could have made a financial promise to you but could not follow through. It could have been something as simple as “focus solely on your education because I’ll make sure you get to complete your education” just for them to be unable to live up to that promise. Your worst of the worst fears came true, I’m not even exaggerating right now but you have just been facing it and trying to rise above it all. You’ve already survived the worst and you seem to be aware of that. You’re learning a lot from the past and are trying to build a stronger foundation, and more stability for and within yourself. You feel isolated and are choosing to be alone as well. You’re slowly healing, even if you don’t feel like it, trust your journey. One thing that I need to correct you about are your little anger tantrums that you’ve been having recently. You’re facing a lot of setbacks in your life and tend to feel uninspired by it sometimes but you still try to get up, and maintain a routine. You seem to have failed to do so many times this year but it’s almost the end of the year and you’ve not yet given up, that says a lot. Even emotionally, you’re pretty alone. Just a hack for you, you need to commit to a routine and goal consistently, that’s how you’re going to grow emotionally and become more stable. You feel like emotionally too, within connections most people are inefficient and you’d rather be alone than settle for such inefficiency. You lacked receiving respect from your peers at one point which led to you feeling powerless and possibly even manipulated. You could have fallen victim to other people acting like they were better than you, that they were right when in reality, they were just self absorbed and acting self assured but back then, it was easy for you to fall victim to them undermining you. You seem to have had an inferiority complex back then honestly. It caused you to feel confused yet angry but with no where to express any sort of emotions at all. You were given the misinformation that something was wrong with you and you believed it. Now that you’re starting to come to your senses, you’re like ��how could I be so stupid?” and you’re mostly angry at these people. You’re focused on your own ethics, morals, money and provision of some sort. Many of you here seem to be providers or at least self providers at a young age with a genuine desire to provide outwardly to others. You are currently breaking free from all that had you trapped and feeling disempowered. You’re starting to accept yourself and are becoming free. You’re embracing your authenticity and are not as afraid of being the black sheep anymore as you once were. You are making choices everyday that your course of life could depend on. Every little change you make could make or break your future. You’re a very emotionally intense person and have jumped to conclusions that if they loved and respected you, they’d not put you through everything that you had to go through. You are also self protective and slightly closed off when it comes to connections because you desire emotionally rich and intense people who will choose you, and only you. You lack tolerance for anything lesser than this.

꒰ Your future spouse’s personality when you’ll be together ꒱

Right off the bat, I am getting that the both of you will act out in ways that are incompatible with each other. Initially, before the two of you get together, they’re going to feel connected to you and will want to explore that connection with you, and will desire directness so they’ll come forth fast but it’s going to come off as kind of off putting to you. You’re going to awaken this love within them, the desire for it, this excitement and you’ll make their inner child very very happy. They’ll be taken by you almost right away but they seem to flirt in a way where they come off egoistic and arrogant. This reminds me of that one time when one guy called me weak right on the first meeting as an attempt to apparently ‘flirt with me’ 💀. I found him very off putting too so I totally get you here. You’re going to see them as someone who has high expectations for themself and others but fears new responsibilities, and is sort of commitment phobic. It’s going to be funny because they’ll be getting so emotionally involved with you, having so much love for you and just feeling giddy around you, like they’ll feel like a child around you quite literally which could lead to their personality coming off a bit childish too. The way they’ll present themself will make you not want to trust them. They’ll end up acting like a bit of an ‘all talk, no action’ kind of a person. You’ll also find them to be sort of rude when they’ll try to tease you and you won’t have it in you to put up with whatever this bullshit is. Not my words, that’s how you’ll think. Oddly enough, they’ll also be acting with a lot of integrity and fairness. They’re going to have a lot of life lessons that they’re going to share with you. They’re going to be truthful with you for the most part but you’re still going to doubt their loyalty due to how commitment phobic they come off. You’re just going to find them to be unstable for you. You’ll think that you’ll be around each other for just a short time then move on with your lives once you lose touch with each other. At some point, they’re going to end up making you feel unwelcome and vice versa. This is why I was saying that you will both act out in ways that are incompatible with one another. You’re going to feel like it’s just difficult for the both of you to come into the same page and they’re going to feel like that too. You’re going to think that they didn’t take enough of an initiative when it came to you so they must’ve not wanted you enough. They’ll feel like maybe you lack feelings towards them and it was all in their head. You will probably fall out of touch with one another and they’re going to miss you so much. They’re going to find more of themself, more love and more direction within their life but there’s going to be this lack of emotional fulfilment. They’re going to reminisce over you and miss you so much when you’re in no contact. I’m not sure how you’ll come back together but their love for you will not have lessened with time, instead it will have only intensified, alongside their awareness of it having grown stronger. When you’ll first meet each other, even if you really wanted to, you would not have been able to make it work because you will just be so out of sync with one another but this time apart is going to be beneficial in terms of being sure about your feelings.

You will make them question their values a lot and they will make you question yours which could be the reason you feel triggered by each other, hence you put this off as something unstable and ‘not right’ for you. You will put the past behind in order to move forward together. When you’ll be together, they’re going to create a lot of conflicts with you because first, you seem to be incompatible with each other, second, they’ll sort of question your loyalty and their importance in your life, they’ll just feel like you were more than fine without them when you lost contact the first time so why wouldn’t you be fine now? You’re going to love this pile if you like your partners obsessed with you though because they will be. Also, I think that you’re going to enjoy seeing them all riled up over you because it will make you feel desired but at the same time, you’ll also not like it. The connection you’ll share will be so complicated, I don’t even know what to say. You’ll most likely be opposite in some ways which will lead to an irresistible attraction but also disagreements. They’re always going to want to do right by you within the connection and will want to grow old with you. They’ll be committed to you and will take accountability for anything that might have affected you negatively. They’re going to want to have the partnership be fair and balanced. They’re going to get pretty jealous and will want to be your one, and only in every way. They’re going to be quite a grudge holder though. They’re going to feel unstable within your relationship sometimes because of how you didn’t seem to have any problem being away from them the first time you lost touch. If you talk to them in a slightly different tone, cancel plans or travels, they’re going to feel upset and slightly unstable. They’re going to sometimes feel like they have an overload of things to do all the time but they still make up time for you but you don’t do the same for them so maybe you’re still keeping your options open because of how the first time around they let you go. “Is he/she still mad at me for that?” Aww, they’re insecure within the relationship but very sweet. Even years and decades into the marriage, they’ll still feel just as giddy and happy around you. They’re going to admire, adore and deeply love you. They’re going to care about your feelings and will be very keen on making the relationship succeed. They’re going to remember your younger days and will want to tear up at how much you’ve both grown. The excitement that they’ll feel towards you, the way they’re just filled with utter and childlike joy with you, will never disappear. Something interesting that is coming through here is that the universe or god didn’t intend for you to be together as life partners. It was originally supposed to be something that brings you both comfort, something that you learn from and are able to grow into your best selves, discover your individual purposes in life and beat emotional dissatisfaction by yourselves after meeting each other but you will make the impossible possible by desiring each other and loving each other so purely. Oh yeah, you were asking for an emotionally intense and rich partner, you will get exactly that. Congratulations. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

[tuesdayisfordancing]

“Communicate” is almost entirely meaningless advice 90% of the time so here’s a few slightly more specific but still pretty general ideas:

You might be making assumptions you don’t realize you’re making about what another party knows, remembers, or understands. Saying “obvious” things helps clear some of these up. Of course even while making an effort to do this you still might not notice things you’re assuming go without saying; don’t beat yourself up when you discover one of these, discovering it means you’re improving! It’s like playing Zelda: the more you uncover the more you get a sense for where and how to look for things. (Disclaimer: I’ve never played Zelda.)

You can take breaks. I’m thinking of personal relationships here but there’s probably a way to apply a similar concept to other relationships. You can say talking more is too much right now, that you’re tired, that you need to process, that you won’t be at your best if you keep going. One thing that can be really great in a personal relationship is asking if the other person is up for hitting pause and doing something you enjoy together for a while (they might not be up for it, be prepared). You can also hit pause and take some time to yourself.

Communication isn’t just for problems! Tell people when you like and appreciate what they’re doing!

Okay this one is probably as useless or at least almost as “communicate” but: contextualize but don’t over-contextualize. I have made people think something is a bigger or more urgent deal than it is by not starting with “overall this is fine/I like X/whatever” and I have had people entirely mentally reverse my point because I spent longer on the disclaimer than the point.

Anyway. Communication is an actual set of skills that you don’t just magically improve by hearing that “communication is key” often enough. It doesn’t just take effort it also takes learning, trial and error, examples! And best practices for communication vary among people, cultures, specific relationships, etc. This has been Pet Peeves With Tuesday.

[luveline]

would you ever write about hotch pining after r because he thinks she’s interested in someone else but then she confesses to him that she’s only ever had eyes for him 🥹

You’re shocked Hotch will let them look at him, honestly. When was the last time you saw Hotch receive medical attention? He doesn’t seem happy about it, suit jacket folded in his lap, his shirt cut in three places, most noticeably the left sleeve. 

“His arm is definitely broken,” Spencer tells you. 

“Do you think he’ll let me give him some comfort?” you ask, the two of you with your arms crossed against the side of the second ambulance, where Morgan undergoes a similarly reluctant checkup for his bloody temple. 

“No. You can always try, though. He’ll appreciate the effort.” 

You ready yourself with a deep breath and begin the short walk. It feels long then suddenly over at the same time. The only thing between you and Hotch now is a shoe’s width and the EMT securing his temporary sling. 

“They’re making me an emergency appointment,” he tells you. 

You fight the urge to rub the toe of your shoe into the ground. “Are you in pain?” 

“No. They gave me tramadol.” 

Hotch pushed you hard out of the way of a brawl and took blows meant for you in turn. He never lets you get hurt in the field. At first you’d assumed him to be the overprotective boss, and careful of women in the team, but you’ve caught on now that his motivation wells from somewhere deeper. 

Hotch loves you. He won’t tell you. You have no idea why. 

The EMT says she’ll return and takes her leave. You nod to the patch of metal flooring beside him, legs too tired to keep standing, and Hotch moves over to leave a gap between you suitable for turning into. You sit down with a sigh. Face to face, this close, you can see the different colours of his iris and the scar under his eyebrow clear as day. 

“You okay?” 

“Are you?” he asks with nothing more than a single short nod. 

“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t like you getting hurt in my place.” 

“I’m your Unit Chief.” 

“If it were Morgan, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. If it were Emily. And we both know I can hold my own.”

He doesn’t look away from your face. “I know.” 

You’re finding it hard to want to scold him. You love him, too. You appreciate what it takes for him to take a fight that was meant for you, and the sentiment behind it. You’d quite like for him to protect you, just not at work. He could glare down potential suitors or argue with people who are rude to you at the grocery store. He doesn’t need to do your job for you. 

You raise your hand tentatively to his face, ignoring his confusion as you rake the hair that falls against his forehead back up. “It’s getting a little long for you.” 

“I’ve been busy.” 

“Me too. I keep meaning to do so much stuff but we get home and I get to my apartment and I just sleep for days.” 

“I wish I did something that sensible.” 

You curl your fingers over his shoulder. Without his suit jacket, you can feel the solidness of his muscle and soft tissue clearly. You rub your thumb in a half circle. 

“Why don’t you sleep much? I wish you would.” 

His eyes flare momentarily. His only tell, a flicker of movement you can’t miss. He’s surprised by something, your question, maybe your tone. “I do sleep.” 

“Not enough.” 

“No, I guess not.” 

You press your cheek to his arm. Can’t help yourself. He’s this strong, stern guy, so used to trying to save everyone that he barely looks after himself, and it makes you sad to think he’d love you and not want to tell you, because why wouldn’t he? Something in him must stop him from acting on it, but that something isn’t in you, not anymore. “Can’t believe you got your arm broken for me,” you murmur, lips to his shirt. You let out a breath, feel the warmth of it pass onto his skin and his following shudder. 

“It wasn’t purposeful.” 

“No? That’s good.” 

“I would do it again,” he says. “I thought you’d be with Morgan.” 

“Morgan’s a big boy.” 

“As opposed to me.” 

“I want to be here with you. I’m worried about you.” You press your face further into his arm, scared to say it even though you know it’s returned. “I care about you so much, ‘n’ you never let me show it.”

“That’s not true,” —his voice climbs higher— “I thought… You and Derek are close.” 

“He’s my friend, Hotch. It’s not like that.” 

Hesitant, tender all the same, Hotch’s uninjured arm slinks around your side to hold you, to bring you closer to his side where you’re hiding. You’re much too old for this, and still you have to confess. 

“I don’t like him,” you say. 

“As opposed to me.” 

You laugh at his repetition. Too embarrassed to say anything more on the subject but wanting to cement it in his head, you raise your head and your hand at the same time, knuckle to his jawline, nudging him to one side. You lean up and kiss his cheek. 

“Please don’t push me out of the way again,” you say. 

Hotch smiles at you, a proper, soft-eyed smile. “I won’t.” 

It’s an obvious lie. 

“Maybe when we go home we can nap together,” you suggest, heart slamming considering the innocence of what you’ve suggested. 

His fingers cradle your side. “You want to?” he asks carefully. 

“You can finally get some rest.” 

He closes his eyes, resting his face against yours. 

[fireinmoonshot]

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader (Twisters) Summary: You're a new addition to the Storm Par team and Tyler finds himself fascinated with you from the very beginning.

It’s been a long and stressful day, so you assume that the group of tornado wranglers hanging about the large red truck by the stairs are feeling the same way as you – exhausted – and will let you head upstairs to get some much needed rest.

You are, however, incredibly wrong. 

“Hey, you’re the one with the Storm Par team, aren’t you?”

You force yourself to a stop on the first landing and turn to the group, all of their eyes staring up at you, and nod. “And you are the ones that make videos on Youtube.”

Boone, one of the only ones who’s names you’d gotten earlier today, laughs. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, but I’m taking it as a win since you know who we are, as well as the other million people who subscribe to us.”

It’s hard not to smile at least a little at his cockiness. If you had a million subscribers on Youtube, you’d probably also have let it go to your head a little. 

You try and excuse yourself from the conversation then, assuming it’s over, and take a step towards the stairs, but yet again – you’re wrong. This time, it’s the tall, gorgeous blond man that speaks. Tyler Owens.

“I don’t think she’s subscribed to us, Boone.”

You can’t help it. You bite. “What makes you say that, Owens?”

He grins up at you from his spot on the back of the truck. “Am I wrong?” 

“That’s not an answer.”

The others in the group laugh and whoop, obviously enjoying the back and forward between the two of you. You assume that it’s rare for Tyler Owens to get that from anyone, let alone a fellow storm chaser that he’s never met before in his life. 

Tyler looks at you for a few moments without saying anything and you take that as your cue to leave, stifling a yawn as you turn away and head up the staircase. You can hear the others chattering back at the truck as you reach the top of the staircase and move to find your room, desperate for a warm shower and a comfortable bed. 

You’re so stuck in your own thoughts that you don’t hear someone bounding up the stairs behind you. 

“Hey, Storm Par,” Tyler Owens’ voice surprises you.

You look up from the key in your hand, having been checking your room number, and meet his eyes. “Were you that desperate for an answer on whether I’m subscribed to your Youtube channel that you had to follow me up here?”

Tyler chuckles to himself. “No, surprisingly not. Just figured I’d come and ask you how you’re doing and didn’t think you’d want an audience for that question.”

You’re a little surprised by his kind nature. Judging by what you’d seen of him so far, he was more of an act first, think later kind of person. And maybe he still was since he’d run after you so fast. 

“How I’m doing? I met you twelve hours ago.”

He flashes a grin. “I can’t ask someone I met twelve hours ago how they are?”

“Well…” You hesitate, a little lost for words. “I’m fine, just tired. I haven’t done this storm chasing thing in a couple of years and it’s going to take a bit of getting used to, especially working with a team like Storm Par.”

You don’t owe Tyler an explanation about everything, not about why you haven’t done it in years, nor why you’re a bit apprehensive about the Storm Par team. But you figure, since he’d been so kind to follow you up here to check in on you, a small explanation is the least you can offer him in return for his kindness.

Tyler nods. “Listen, I know my team can be a little much sometimes – in a good way, don’t get me wrong – but if you’re ever after a bit more fun than the suits and PhD’s of Storm Par, I’m sure we can squeeze you in.”

You snort. “They do not wear suits while storm chasing.”

“How do you know? You’ve only been here for twelve hours, Storm Par.”

Tyler smirks as you narrow your eyes at him. “Not my name, Owens.”

“Go and get some rest, you’ll need it for tomorrow.” He can see that you’re exhausted, and even though you’re happily playing along with him, he’s not the type to push it too far. Especially when it comes to you, apparently. “I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.”

“You gonna set up camp outside my room?”

“No, not for someone I’ve only known for twelve hours. But I will guard the stairs incase Javi or Scott come looking for you,” he smiles, amusement in his every word. “Go on.”

You listen to him, eyeing him carefully one last time before turning and heading towards your room, which you think is at the end of the corridor. Just as you’re putting your key in the lock, you hear him yell out behind you.

“If you can’t sleep, you can always look up Tornado Wranglers on Youtube!” 

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference] reacting to their s/o wearing mobility aids

When I said I was prioritizing the illnesses I had, I didn’t expect the hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, but here we are. For those who don’t know what it is: it’s a genetic condition that affects the ligaments, making them longer and/or looser, which cause problems over time. In my case, it affects my legs, so I’ll write about those. As always, if you want to read more of my work, you can click on the coloured texts! here the Tumblr masterlist, and here are the first two chapters of Everytime it Rains.

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 |

Jayce:

He’s well-versed in what to do and not do, being around two people with a similar condition (though he’ll never call it a "disease" out loud for fear of making anyone uncomfortable).

His help is as subtle as possible: he’ll grab your backpack, shoulder bag, or anything else you’re carrying to keep you from overexerting yourself.

During walks, he’s the one who’ll suddenly mention it’s getting cold, too hot, or that he just remembered something, as soon as he senses you’re getting tired, assuming your fatigue is worse than his.

The first time you said, “I’ll pass, my knees are about to bend” he didn’t realize they bent backwards, and when he saw what that actually meant, he went pale.

He felt guilty about his reaction for at least a week.

Viktor:

Tell him something he doesn’t know.

He’s the one who’ll comment, “Where’s your brace?” if he sees you with bare legs and no aid, maybe tapping your foot lightly with his cane to emphasize his disapproval.

On the bad days—when fatigue, cold, or any external factor makes both of your legs useless—you end up helping each other out, spending most of the time on the couch with pillows under his knees and your legs draped over his.

If you have to do something alone while he’s busy, he’ll ask Jayce to accompany you, ensuring you don’t overdo it without realizing.

Ekko:

Honestly, he couldn’t care less. I mean, it’s not a big problem for him

The first time he saw your knees bend weirdly and too much, he just said, “Ouch.”

Other than that, there are hoverboards! If your legs stop cooperating at some point in the day, he’ll just have you balance seated on the hoverboard, saying it’s a gentleman’s duty to escort such an attractive lad/lady around.

He doesn’t ask what you want or need; he just does it, whether it’s bringing you food or removing your knee brace to let your skin breathe.

If he’s going to be away from the house for a while, he leaves a few things ready for you, like water bottles, so you don’t have to strain yourself carrying them up the stairs on your own.

When he sees you’re worn out, he’ll ask if you want a massage, using some body butter to improve circulation, relieve stress, and keep your skin elastic.

Vander:

His first instinct would be to carry you, but since that’s sweet yet sometimes awkward, you both agree that at night ‘it’s a man’s right to carry his wife/husband to bed, disability or not’.

He doesn’t know exactly how to help, so aside from asking if you need anything—like grabbing your aids, bringing them to you, or helping you put them on—he won’t push, knowing you’ll ask for help if you need it.

If you need to go upstairs, he’ll always walk behind you so that if your knees give out, he can catch you and avoid disaster.

At least two rectangular pillows appear in every useful room so you can place them under your knees. The problem is that you forget about them most of the time, so they’re not much help—at least until he comes along, lifts your legs, and places them in a more comfortable position.

"My legs hurt."

"Oh no, I’m sorry, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut them off," he jokes with a mock-serious expression, bursting into laughter when you swat at him in response.

Silco (old man):

Some things you could do on your own but feel more intimate when done together. That’s why you often trot into his office with the fabric sleeve and brace in hand, handing them to him, and he gives you his shimmer syringe in return.

There’s no specific reason beyond the mental closeness and vulnerability of the act.

“Too tight?” will always be his question, even though he knows by now how to adjust it perfectly and doesn’t need to ask.

When you’re together, he’s the one to carefully remove it, stroking your leg while lost in thought.

He never sends anyone to assist you; instead, he asks if you think it would be better to have someone accompany you, making sure you reassure him if you insist you can manage alone.

Silco (Young Man):

Zaun isn’t exactly suitable for crutches or unsteady footing, so as soon as you let him know about your condition, he feels even more compelled to improve the city (or at the very least, smooth out the streets).

He’ll ask questions—few but direct—to understand what it is and how he should act.

If you drop something, he’ll be quick but subtle about picking it up and putting it somewhere easier for you to reach.

“Do you want to go home?” is the question he’ll ask you most often, even if it’s just with a look, despite you explaining multiple times that you’ll let him know if you can’t keep going.

But he knows you push yourself beyond your limits, so he worries.

At night, he’s made it a small ritual to massage your legs when you stretch them out in bed, and it actually helps relieve the tension.

Jinx:

“I can make you a mechanical one.”

When you explain what the condition is and that you don’t need a replacement leg but help for the ones you have, she starts carrying around a notebook, taking notes on the “flaws” of your aid to make you a custom version better suited to your daily life and body.

“I’ll do it!” is her go-to response for anything you need to do that she thinks takes too much effort. She doesn’t even ask; she just throws herself into it with so much enthusiasm it becomes amusing after a while.

You don’t have many intact knee braces or aids left, because according to her, they were “boring,” and she’s customized them—though they still work pretty well.

Even if she won’t admit it, she’s become even more protective of you. For example, if someone bumps into you in the street, she’s ready to jump to your defense immediately.

Vi:

She doesn’t really know how to react or respond because of how versatile the condition is. How does she figure out which days your legs won’t work and which ones they will? Or when they’ll start hurting before it’s too late?

You two agree on a small code: you tap her hand or shoulder three times rhythmically when you start to feel fatigued so that if you’re in public or with company, you don’t have to announce it to everyone if you don’t want to. She’ll immediately understand.

She’s a little scared of doing the wrong thing. She doesn’t know how to handle it and, even though she tries not to, she starts to perceive you as more fragile, moving with a fear of accidentally hurting you.

But she learns over time. She’ll simply ask more often if you need anything when she’s going to the kitchen or the store.

And when you’re cuddling, she’ll pull your legs onto hers.

Caitlyn:

She asks you to explain the condition to her—what you can and can’t do and how she can help.

She’s the ultimate advocate for your aid.

If you skip wearing it one morning because you don’t feel like it or the pain hasn’t started yet, you can bet she’ll notice and say something.

Sure, it can be a bit annoying, but considering it’s a degenerative condition, you know she’s right, so you can’t really get mad at her.

If you’re just not in the mood, she’ll put it on for you herself, with such care that you start to wonder if there’s an instruction manual she got that you didn’t.

Beyond that, she’s not overbearing. She trusts that you’ll communicate when you don’t feel like doing something, and she doesn’t presume to know your limits better than you do.

Mel:

It’s not too much of a problem, considering most of your activities together don’t involve much walking or moving due to her work.

That doesn’t stop her from taking an interest, though. At least once a week, she’ll ask you how your legs are

If they hurt, if you need different support or more comfortable shoes, or if you just need a footrest or a cushion—she’s ready and ensures everything you might need is on hand. If she can’t get it herself, she’ll send someone.

During dinners, she privately asks whoever is in charge of arranging things to provide you with a footrest and an extra cushion on your chair. If you tell her it’s unnecessary, her response will be, “Can’t I spoil my partner a little?”

She knows you’ll let her know if you’re having issues, but she takes all the necessary precautions to ensure no problems arise in the first place.

Sevika:

Again, tell her something she doesn’t know.

The difference between your legs and her arm—besides the fact that yours are still intact—is that they require less messy and time-consuming maintenance than hers. So not only does she not mind helping, but she hardly even notices.

She won’t ask if you need anything unless you say so or show explicit signs of struggling. It’s a deliberate choice to avoid making you feel like she thinks you’re not independent or capable.

On the couch or in bed, she’ll have you rest your legs on hers and prop you up with cushions behind your back, making sure you’re fully supported.

[shiningjustforreid]

stains

glimpses through fem!reader and Spencer’s relationship, through four instances of spills.

word count: 3.5k ish

a/n: i love the idea that for some of us, our personalities are made up all the things we like about the people we know and see. the idea that we’re all little bits and pieces of the things we love, and our experiences. this sort of explores that. (also this was mildly self indulgent because much like reader i’m a klutz!) <3

warnings/tags: 18+ for implied intimacy and canon typical violence for cm, pet names up the wazoo, reader is lowkey clumsy, Derek Morgan being himself, reader gets injured but she’s fine, who’s Maeve?, anxious love confession, Spencer adores reader so so much, S1 and S6 (ish) Spencer, Spencer in and post prison, love letters, marriage, kids, and briefly mentioned pregnancy, girl dad!Spencer Reid my beloved

- ✩ -

coffee - the first stain

To be honest, at first, he’s appalled.

The mug you set down on his desk isn’t his, so God knows whose mouth was on it last. You - somewhat carelessly - plopped it down on the file he’s working on, grinning that thousand watt smile he’s secretly become fond of. You’re wearing a sweater he noticed that brings out your eyes - a berry colored wool garment that he wishes you’d wear more.

“Hey! Morgan said you were exhausted. Thought I’d make you coffee.”

You pick it up, and set it down again, for emphasis, and a few drops make their way down the side and onto his case file, surely creating a cinnamon toned half circle that Hotch will not love. You don’t notice, watching his face.

“I made it with a bunch of sugar. Just how you like it, right?”

Suddenly, he realizes he’s been staring up at you, and then his mouth is moving faster than his brain.

“Yeah, I uh, I am pretty tired, now that you say it. Didn’t sleep well, long night, you know?”

You nod, sipping your own coffee, fingers wrapped around the ceramic.

“I get that. Goes with the job, right?”

“Oh, absolutely, yeah, I- wait, Morgan said that? Did he— what else did he tell you?”

You grin, coffee mug to lips again.

Stop staring, Reid.

“Nothing, really. Just said you needed a boost. Thought I’d provide.”

Titling your head a tad, you look down, a mild panic crossing your face when you see you’ve stained his file.

“Oh my God - Reid, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

He’s quick to shake his head, hands coming up to reassure, his eyes wide.

“No no no, it’s okay, truly, I-I made a mistake on that one anyways. I’ll need to have a new copy printed, honest.”

Frowning, you look him over, searching for a tell, something to let you know whether he’s lying or not.

“Are you sure? I can do it, I’m not that behind on mine, I could—“

Before he thinks - you’d assume, with all his brains, he would - his hand grabs your arm, that gorgeous sweater under his finger tips, his eyes locked with yours. He says your name, once, his tone more serious than he’d like.

“It’s okay. Thanks for the coffee.”

You blink, and then a slow grin takes over your face.

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need more.”

For a moment, neither of you move, the heat of his hand burning through the wool on your arm, until he lets go like you’re the one scorching his skin, like he’s just realized that he’s touching you. You laugh a little, awkwardly, and he grins with the same level of unpracticed nerves, and you head back to your desk.

He picks up the mug, and sips slowly, closing his eyes for a moment - it does have a mountain of sweetness, the saccharine liquid coating his mouth but soothing his senses. When he sets it down again, it’s on a part of his workspace not occupied by case work. Just as predicted, the file that once housed the beverage now bears a semi circle of dried java. His pointer finger traces the stain, clockwise and then counter, for a moment, before he glances up in horror to see Morgan, of all people, signature smirk in place.

“‘Thanks for the coffee’. I don’t what’s sweeter, that coffee you just got or-“

“Shut up.”

He mumbles, face flushed, small smile on his face despite the teasing. He traces the coffee stain one last time before he hastily tucks the soiled paper away in a drawer.

blood - the second stain

“What do you mean you aren’t getting a response from her on comms?”

He’s so scared, he can’t even stop to think just how breathless and afraid he sounds, as he turns to Hotch, who fixes him with a look that clearly says, Calm down, Reid.

“It could just be non-functional, or got knocked off, or caught.”

Hotch says calmly, almost maddeningly so. Spencer swallows back the protests, the arguments that swell up in his throat like bile.

They’d created, and given the profile, and once Penelope had narrowed down the couple possible properties their potential unsub owned, you, Morgan, and Prentiss had headed into an abandoned storage facility, silent and careful.

Perhaps not careful enough.

The voice in his head reminds him, almost sadly, and he grits his teeth inside tightly drawn and chapped lips. Shaky hands smooth over his slacks, again and again, as his eyes stay fixed on Hotch.

“Ask-ask Morgan again. If she’ll respond.”

He’s given a frown, dark brows pulling together in a very typical Hotch-like manner.

“Is there a specific reason you’re asking about her, Reid?”

Is there? God, he doesn’t know. You bring him coffee nearly every morning, but perhaps that’s just kindness. Then there’s the chocolate sprinkled donuts that start his work day from time to time - maybe you just enjoy pastry treats, and think of him, when you buy one. Oh, and heaven forbid he forget the way you’ll come by his desk, and ask for clarification on a piece of paperwork or a procedure - that you probably could’ve asked Hotch or Prentiss about. You listen, active listening too, eye contact, body still - when his explanations turn into rambles about statistics about this type of criminal, your eyes watching his face, your own voice quiet.

Is he deluding himself? Seeing phantom romance where there’s maybe merely nothing but platonic affection? Blinking, once, he shakes his head in response to his Unit Chief’s question.

“No Hotch. I’m just worried, she-well, she hasn’t responded, and Morgan has, and Prentiss has, and I—“

Speak of the devil, Morgan’s voice comes through, demanding and tense.

“I need a medic. Prentiss and I secured the unsub, but, not before—“

Oh God. Not before that bastard got to you with a baseball bat, to the back of the head, you unaware before your face met the concrete below. Spencer’s not even asking for permission, snatching the keys to an SUV off the desk nearby and flooring the gas pedal.

You can’t die. Not before I—

Driving there is like hell - his lungs burn like there’s smoke and ash polluting them, and fear feels like too tame a word to describe the overwhelming panic that seizes his heart the more he drives.

I’m a fool, he thinks wildly, as his knuckles grip the steering wheel like a vice. A damn fool if I don’t tell her-

He’s barely got the thing in park before he’s scrambling out the driver’s side door, Converse immediately coated from the dusty ground outside the facility.

When he finds Morgan, and you, head lolled to the side, eyes closed, face pale as his must be, he falls to his knees with little regard for his own pain or discomfort. Morgan watches, careful, his voice gentle when he speaks, trying to calm his terrified friend.

“She’s still out, Reid. Just a nasty whack to the back of her head, okay? Easy.”

Trembling thumbs trace and hold your face, like it’s made of paper, as he swallows hard to keep the ache behind his eyes from becoming tear tracks down his face. He spots the gash, trickling crimson down your ashy skin, onto his shaking hand, but doesn’t move from holding your face. A deep contusion, furious and violet-toned, on the back of your head, makes the air leave his chest like he’s been choked.

Beautiful girl, I couldn’t stop this.

He could sob, and he nearly does, until you make some sort of confused noise and force open your eyes. Light rushes through his heart, rekindled warmth as he meets your eyes, and yet, he finds himself almost frozen.

“Spencer? What, I thought-“

“Listen to me.”

He forces himself to speak - he has too. What if he doesn’t get the chance, and all he ever gets to associate you with is caffeine, sprinkles, and a listening ear? No, that won’t do. Not in the slightest.

You meet his eyes, hazy, but listening. Morgan’s brows furrow, as he protests,

“God, man, she just woke up, let her-“

Ignored, as Spencer often finds himself doing when there’s more pressing matters than banter, than propriety.

“You need to know. That I-care about you.”

Blinking, you swallow, and suddenly, the throbbing pain in the back of your skull is slightly dimmed.

“That I can’t let another sunrise or sunset go by where you don’t know that I’d give you the stars if you’d let me. Where I can’t touch you, where I can’t make sure you understand that I’ll protect the light you have inside you until I’m burnt from it. You absolute angel, I-“

He shudders, almost afraid of his own earnest, and says your name like it’s a prayer.

“I love you. Even if you don’t return it, my heart is yours.”

Morgan’s grin is wide, and he shakes his head, almost in amazement. Your own face is flushed, as you hear sirens and medics, your voice crackly and rough from pain, but still, that smile he’s grown to associate with his heart fluttering graces your face.

“My heart is yours, Spencer. Glad you’re finally realizing how absolutely in love I am with you, you goose, even if it took all this.”

He laughs a little, almost deliriously, and smooths his trembling hand over your face.

“Guess the doughnuts weren’t enough, huh?”

You manage, and he shakes his head, quick to push back.

“They were. You’re always enough for me, no matter what you do.”

Could he sound any more smitten?

Procedure says he can’t go in the ambulance with you - there’s no need, you’re just getting stitches and some ice and he can visit you at the hospital, okay? But as he heads back to the - oh dear, still running, he really was in a hurry, wasn’t he? - car, Morgan glances sideways at him, signature smirk in place.

“Pretty boy, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Spencer stares down at his hands in his lap. They’re stained, and a grimace floods his face when he realizes it’s not dirt, but your blood, coating his fingertips. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he bites back a nastier retort than his friend deserves.

“I guess I did. I can’t believe it took-“

Morgan sighs, stopping Spencer’s inevitable incoming guilt filled rambles.

“Hush. You told her. That’s what matters.”

Glancing down at Spencer’s fidgeting hands in his lap, he presses on the gas.

“Let’s get there, so you can get that off you. I’m shocked you got all dirty, with your germ thing.”

Spencer shrugs, looking out the window.

“For her? I’d-I think I’d do anything. No matter what it stained.”

Soap finds his hands at the hospital, but he finds you soon after, unable to stop the gentle press of his lips to your forehead, or the soft murmurs that follow as he tries to remind himself that much more of your blood didn’t spill.

ink - the third stain

Emily has to physically hold you back in the court room, when they take him out, his eyes fixed on you, and the team, almost hopeless.

“Then your client is a flight risk.”

You’re quite literally fighting her, suddenly terrified in a whole new way for your boyfriend, tears staining your face.

“Bail is denied.”

She’s got both arms wrapped around you, her soft, ‘I know’s, and ‘I’m sorry’s barely heard over your own pleas for her to let you go.

“Defendant will be remanded to federal custody pending trial.”

You hear someone sobbing - angry, fear-filled wailing - and until Emily has you turned around, your face in her shoulder, comes the realization that it’s you.

“He’s-Emily, what are we going to do, he’s not going to be okay, I-I can’t—“

The days that follow are dark. Going to the BAU without Spencer, let alone waking up without him beside you, is enough to send you into a spiral. You try to remind yourself that he’s worse off, that whatever hell he’s experiencing is ten times worse than your quiet fear and loneliness. So, to try to combat the weight that squashes your heart, you write him letters. Daily letters.

Spencer -

We have a case in Florida. Emily says it’ll be quick, but the Florida ones never are. We’d solve it ten times faster with you, you know? Geographical profiles are much harder alone, that’s for sure. The plane ride is quieter without you, and no one’s saying anything - you’d be saying something if you were here. Maybe that’s why we’re quiet. ♡

Every day. You don’t relent. If you can’t mail them in whatever town you get stuck in for work, you mail them in one big envelope when you get back home.

Spencer -

That case was rough. I cried twice - once when I spent over two hours staring at the map at the precinct and couldn’t find anything new, and once when Rossi accidentally snapped at me. He said he was sorry, that he’s ‘on edge’ right now - but aren’t we all? Emily’s working really hard to try to get you home. I wish I could come see you. I hope you’re safe. I love you. ♡

When you learn that he didn’t put you on the list of people who can visit him in that concrete hell, you almost lose what’s left your nerve, breaking down in Emily’s office, shaking. You don’t know whether you’re furious, in despair, or numb to it all.

“Emily, why? Why doesn’t he want me to come see him? If it was me, I’d want to see him every day, I wouldn’t want him to leave!”

She sighs, her face tight. Twisting your hands in your lap, you search her face for answers. Nausea claws at your throat.

“Honestly, my guess is it’s just that. He knows that if you come, he won’t want you to leave. It’ll hurt too much.”

“But Tara, and you, and his mother, and-

Spencer -

I think I understand. Sort of. I feel like there’s this pressure in my chest, and I can’t ever fully breathe. Not since you’ve been away. The weight on my heart never goes away. Missing you more every hour. ♡

Despite the slew of handwritten letters that reach him, you only get one back, after you and the team search his apartment - you keep it in your purse pocket, folded safe, and read it whenever your throat feels tight and your eyes burn. His untidy scrawl is enough to make you feel like a part of him is actually inside this letter - like he’s reading it himself to you, interwoven in the fibers of the paper.

Angel -

I wanted you to know I’m in solitary now - I made sure of it. I know you want me safe, almost more than I do. I love you beyond what I can say, my beautiful girl.

Yours, Spencer.

One night, you’re curled up in Spencer’s apartment, writing him a letter, as is your nightly routine. The ink stains the side of your hand now - an ever-present reminder of the fact that your heart constantly feels ripped out of your body. After addressing the letter to him, your phone buzzes - Emily.

Oh God.

“Hey. We figured out that- oh, you don’t care about all that. He’s coming home.”

She doesn’t need to tell you twice. Paper and ink pen tumble to the floor as you shove your feet in shoes and snatch your jacket off the coat tree. Tension is coiled in your body the entire way there. Ink still stains the side of your hand, a permanent reminder that every time you needed to just tell him something - you had to pick up pen and paper.

Heart in your throat, you push open the door with shaking hand. There he stands, your Spencer. He’s still him, you think, although his face is tight, and sleep clearly hasn’t been something he’s seen much of.

Three months.

You walk in slowly, body trembling. One hand reaches up, runs through the curls that have grown so long.

“Your hair.”

You breathe out, voice barely audible. He nods, his face almost impassive. Tentative fingers trail down his cheek, make a path to hold his face. He nods, and then, you notice his eyes are misty.

“My angel.” He murmurs, almost in awe, and takes you in his arms with a fervor. Crushed against him, face buried in the cool fabric of his shirt, you bite back a sob, arms threaded around him.

“No. Cry, my darling girl, I’m— I’m tired of doing it alone.”

How could you refuse him? Just hearing his voice, let alone the relief you feel at being touched by him again, is enough to satisfy you for days, you think. For a bit, all that’s heard is uneven breaths, until he speaks, his voice rough and shaky.

“I need to see your face.”

He pulls back, face shining with tears, and you swallow back the lump that just won’t leave your throat.

Calloused hands - less soft than you remember - take yours, and then he frowns.

“Your hand.”

Your right hand is held up, inspected, like the blue on the inner side of it is red instead. You smile, laughing a little, still breathless.

“Ink, baby. Just ink. I was writing you a letter.”

He shakes his head, rubbing at the navy stain with his thumb, as if that will remove it.

“I would’ve kept writing. Never given up. You’d be sick of letters from me.”

“Never, sweet girl. There is no part of me who could ever find himself sick of you.”

After you’ve come home, he wastes no time in pressing less than tender kisses to your mouth and jawline and the column of your throat. It’s not until he’s reacquainted himself with your contours and the dip of your hipbones and the soft way you gasp out his name when he does that, that has you next to him, so he can see your face.

He needs to see your face.

Hand in his, still faintly stained from ink, he examines it, and then, softly, hesitantly, he meets your eyes.

“You know ink poisoning is actually rare? Pens we use are designed with non-toxic ink, to decrease any chances of fatal ingestion.”

You never mind his information sharing, but your eyebrows furrow tiredly at his timing.

“Spence, I’m not saying I don’t care, but we just— you just—”

“Please. Let me look at the woman I love and pretend for a few moments that my damn eidetic memory won’t play back the last three months of my life like some wretched tape.”

You let him, as he holds your cobalt-colored hand and your eyes droop, his soft voice telling you that rubbing alcohol will probably get that stain out. It almost feels normal.

Almost.

paint - the final stain

“Spence! Can you get paint water out of carpet with any amount of ease?”

You call your husband, turning back to your mildly sheepish five year old, whose water color adventure on the coffee table has quickly gone south.

In walks Spencer, not even noticing the overturned hard plastic cup or purpley-blue spill, eyes going straight to his daughter’s nearly finished picture.

“Beautiful, Penny. Looks incredible.”

He murmurs, bending to be eye level with a beaming Penelope, hand on her arm, before turning to you, mild tension and stress lining your face. His smile is gentle. It’ll wash out.

“Rubbling alcohol, angel.”

You nod, tension easing from your shoulders.

“We’ll go get it - we always clean our messes up, right lovely?”

He asks your daughter, lifting her with practiced care. She giggles, nodding, as they head from the room, letting you take a breath and set up the paints and picture in a new location - the kitchen table, with some newspaper tucked underneath because she’s five, and you of all people know spills happen.

Once she’s set up again - she really is so quiet when she’s engrossed in something - you find yourself curled up with Spencer on the couch, head on his shoulder, watching her paint and sing-song to herself.

“Think she’s lonely?”

Spencer asks, turning to you, his grin wide.

Troublemaker.

“Hmm. I think you just like me pregnant.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Maybe. Maybe I don’t want Penny to be sad, ever.”

Silence, then, for a bit.

“She’s so much like you.”

Spencer muses, his fingers drawing patterns on the side of your sweater. You smile, fondly.

“You say that because I’m clumsy. She was dancing around with that paintbrush, that cup of paint water stood no chance.”

“No, I say that because she shines like you. No matter what tries to dim her.”

That night, when you peek in your daughter’s door to see Spencer reading her A Little Princess, she’s propped up against him, hazel eyes barely open. Affection swells in your chest as his voice carries on, even though she’s clearly almost in dreamland. In you walk, pressing a kiss first to her forehead, then Spencer’s. He smiles gentle up at you - this is his favorite time of the day - and keeps reading.

“Perhaps there is a language which is not made of words, and everything in the world understands it.”

Once you’re back in the living room, you check on the earlier spill from today. All that’s left is a barely visible blue spot, no bigger than a quarter.

“No one will see it but you.”

Steadying, warm arms wrap around your ribs, and soft lips press against the side of your neck, washing away any insecurity about the state of your carpet.

“Besides, stains aren’t bad, sweet girl. They’re little reminders that things happened, good things, or bad things that brought us together. Memories, attached to splotches, attached to wounds, to paper, to skin. How convenient, to carry our most impactful moments like heaven-sent tattoos.”

[wonderjanga]

The Justice League has been around for nearly twenty five years. Its original members have grown old, and if they haven’t grown old, they’ve grown tired of heroics. Except Marvel. Yeah… for some reason, he’s still here. He’s still a hero too even though he should be like 60 something. They think this because Billy just adds thirty years to his age whenever they ask. So, when they first asked his age:

Flash: “Hey, Cap, how old are you?”

Marvel: *pauses to think and do the mental math* “Forty.” (He’s ten)

Flash: “Forty!? You’re older than me!? Also, why’d you have to take some time to remember how old you were?”

Marvel: *shrugs*

Flash: “Dude, that’s actually a little concerning.”

So yes. Twenty-five years later and Marvel should be sixty-five. (Billy’s thirty-five) This all left the JL slightly concerned as to why he hasn’t retired yet.

Marvel: “Settle down?” *thinks their talking about getting in a relationship with someone* “I don’t want that.”

Supes: “But can we ask why? Marvel, there are people who can take on your role. Junior or Mary are plenty capable.”

Ah right, Junior and Mary’s Marvel forms don’t look like kids anymore. As they grew into adults, their Marvel forms grew with them.

Marvel: *frowns* “I still don’t want that. They’re already their own heroes, they don’t need to take over for me.”

Flash: “We know that… but aren’t you a little too old to still be doing this?”

Marvel: “Old? I’m not that old.”

He really isn’t. He also doesn’t look it either. He still looks like the same thirty year old guy from when they first joined. He hasn’t really aged a day.

Marvel: “I don’t want to retire. Not yet.” *thinks they’re being preposterous*

And they were to Billy, but that’s because he wasn’t thinking with the “add thirty years” mentality, he was thinking with the “I’m only thirty-five” mentality.

Flash: “You kinda are, bud.”

At first they had assumed he was like Wildcat. Not wanting to retire because he still liked being a hero. They were right, but Billy didn’t actually need to retire. Not yet at least. He still has another thirty years. He even said that to them.

Marvel: “I still have at least another thirty years in me!”

Supes: *sounds horrified* “You’re going to be doing this until you’re ninety?!”

Marvel: “Maybe?” *confused at the sudden horrification* “No? Probably? All I know it’s that I still have to become a Wizard since the current one is dead.”

Flash: “What???”

[lomlhwa]

scandal (l.c)

pairing: idol!reader x idol!chan

preview: you got into a dating scandal with another idol and chan is not happy. it should've been him, he's your actual boyfriend after all.

tags/warnings: fem reader, mentions of beomgyu and other idols, possessive chan, kisses galore, pet names (pretty, baby, my love, angel), oral (fem.receiving), holding hands while fucking, so much praise, monster cock chan, marking, did i say possessive?, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.8k

song rec for this fic: obsession by exo

a/n: i tried making fake tweets + texts for this how did i do? also i just threw in random female idols to make a fake group lol

you sigh, putting your phone down and rubbing your temples. dating as an idol is so tiring and sometimes you honestly forget why you even try. but you love your boyfriend so much. beomgyu is your good friend and sometimes you fail to remember to be sneaky when hanging out. even small things like going out to eat together makes fans assume you’re madly in love. this isn’t the first time you’ve been roped into media with beomgyu and you’re certain it won’t be the last. 

with your swift rise to fame, you’ve had many dating scandals in your time. what pisses chan off the most is the fact that it’s never been him that you’ve had a scandal with. you’ve gone out on many public dates before and no one has ever picked up on the fact that you’re together. he even kissed you in the view of a sasaeng one time and they didn’t notice. he wonders if it’s intentional on the media’s part or if they’re seriously just that oblivious. 

you run your hand through your hair, trying to fathom why the general public knowing about your relationship is so important to him. everyone within the industry knows so why does everyone else have to? relationships can ruin idol reputations and he doesn’t seem to care. maybe it’s because you’re both already so big that he’s not worried? or he’s hoping your fans are just accepting enough to be okay with it? 

your members come wandering into the living room and you’re quick to compose yourself. you don’t want them to know you’re having relationship problems again. “you okay, y/n?” minji asks you, concern spreading on her face. you nod and smile to the best of your abilities. “hmm, i don’t believe you but we have schedules so i’m not gonna push,” karina shakes her head before gesturing for you to follow the group out the door. you gather your things and do your best not to think about anything but the late night ahead of you. 

___________________________________________

after a late night at dance practice you finally get the time to check your phone. you know chan had a fansign today so you decide to check on some of his fan accounts. you smile as you’re met with cute photos of him posing with gifts from fans. you find lots of updates on things he said as well. his current favorite movies, foods, tv shows and… songs. of course he mentions you. it’s cute that he listens to your music and likes to promote you to fans. 

you jump as you realize sana is perched over your shoulder, reading your text messages. “he’s gonna get in trouble when people realize he keeps talking about you,” she comments, clicking her tongue. you sigh dramatically, slouching your shoulders. “that’s what he wants.” suddenly all your members are gathered around you, confused as to what you’re talking about. “i got into another scandal with beomgyu and chan is jealous that it’s not him. so he’s putting in extra effort to try and get people to assume things.” your members share a weird look between them before turning back to you. “i think you should go on the most public date ever and make sure everyone knows you’re with lee chan of seventeen,” lily smiles brightly at you. this comment shocks you a little but you agree. 

“will you guys help me set up a giant celebration at the restaurant under our dorm?” you ask and they all agree excitedly. you all rush to get back to your dorm, eager to plan an extravagant dinner for you and your boyfriend. you talk to the owners of the restaurant and they agree to vacate the restaurant for you. they even promise to make food on the house. your girls help you pick the perfect outfit, hair and makeup for the event. they even “accidentally” tell a well known media outlet that you have plans for tomorrow and they should be there. 

___________________________________________

you sit in eager anticipation waiting for your boyfriend to show up. you can see a photographer out of the corner of your eye, waiting for something to happen. you hear the backdoor open and chan walks in, confidence filling his every step. your eyes fall on the suit he chose for tonight. he left his blazer undone, showing off that the buttons resting on his chest were begging to burst open. 

“hello, my love,” he says as he pecks your cheek before sitting down across from you. “what’s the occasion for such a fancy dinner?” his face changes to panic for a moment before he speaks again; “did i miss our anniversary? your birthday?” you shake your head and chuckle just as a waitress comes scurrying out of the kitchen with pre prepared food. you thank her and shoot her a quick wink before turning back to your lover. chan looks at you with an unreadable expression, but you hope it’s positive.

the two of you eat your food happily, the atmosphere feeling very comfortable. your share anecdotes from your lives as idols, laughing that the ridiculousness of your respective companies. before long, your meal is coming to an end. chan gives you a look you know all too well and you’re quick to scurry away, up the stairs and to your dorm. your boyfriend follows swiftly behind you after thanking all the staff. 

you thank your members mentally as you enter your normally occupied dorm. as soon as the door is closed, chan’s hands are on you. he drags you by your hips, crashing you against him. he kisses you with such aggression that you would think he was trying to eat you. your tongues tangle like snakes, drool spilling from the corner of your mouth. “fuck, baby. you’re so sexy, you know that?” he connects his lips to your jawline, sucking on your skin gently. he sucks dark red marks on your collar bones, taking a moment to lean back and admire his work. 

“jump,” he mutters as he hooks his hands under your thighs. you hop and he catches you before quickly scurrying towards your room. he lays you down on your bed, pressing your legs wide open. he groans as he realizes you aren’t wearing any panties. you bite your lip as he admires you. “stop fucking me with your eyes and fuck me for real,” you demand. chan drops to his knees in front of you, desperation filling his eyes. you lift yourself onto your elbows so you can see him better. he kisses his way up your thighs before meeting his lips with your drenched core. 

his skilled tongue darts out to circle your clit, small whines escaping from your throat. he grips your thighs, holding you exactly where he wants you. he slurps and drinks you up as you twitch and squirm under him. he focuses his attention on your sensitive clit, rubbing his tongue back and forth over it. “channie, please please ple-ah,” he silences you with a harsh smack to your inner thigh. “let me enjoy your cunt. god, i love that you’re mine,” he presses kisses against your slit, licking a fat stripe up it to follow. “fucking mine.”

he grazes his teeth over your clit, drinking in the way you squeak and raise your hips towards his mouth. your hands fly to his hair and drag his mouth back to you. he chuckles before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it before letting it go with a small ‘pop.’ you grind your core against his face, his nose brushing your clit as you get more and more desperate for release. “you have the most perfect pussy, baby. could eat you forever.”

a low moan slips from his lips as he watches you clench around nothing at his words. he places one final kiss to your core before rising off his knees. “you’re so tasty, angel. but i think i might explode if i don’t get inside you.” he reaches down to undo his pants and let them pool around his ankles. he aligns himself with your desperate hole before pressing in gently. “my pretty, pretty girl.” he grabs your hands and intertwines all ten of your fingers with his. a gesture like this always felt so romantic to you. 

he arms flex in reaction as you clench around him in an eager effort to get him to move. he draws his hips back slowly before returning himself to the hilt. your eyes cross and your back arches off the bed as he repeats this ritual over and over before he can’t take the slow pace anymore. he tightens his grip on your hands as he speeds up, the sounds of skin slapping filling the room. he stares between the two of you, watching as he disappears and reappears between your legs.”fuck, baby. you’re all mine. i don’t care what the media says. i’m the one fucking you. not beomgyu, me.” you nod your head, panting like a dog in the summer heat. “say it. who does this pussy belong to?” he thrusts into you faster, as if to make it harder for you to answer. “y-you, chan. fuck, it’s all yours.”

he lets go of your hands and opts to wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your chest. he ruts into you with such vigor you think you might snap in half. he lifts you partially off the bed so you’re kind of sitting in his lap. your grind down on him, desperate for more. “channie… god, need it so bad,” you plead, your orgasm threatening to rip its way out of you. he runs his tongue between the valley of your breasts before pulling back to look at your face.

“keep eye contact with me while you finish. let me see how fucking good i make you feel.” you nod, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as he connects the pad of his thumb to your clit. you let out a deep sigh and fight your hardest not to throw your head back. the way chan looks at you through his sweaty bangs has you seeing stars. “cumming. oh my god i’m cumming,” you cry out as your whole body spasms. “yeah, that’s it baby. squeeze my cock like that.” your arms give out and you fall back onto the bed, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turn white. 

your lover’s orgasm is quick to follow, ropes of cum painting your walls white. he moans and whines out your name like a hymn, gripping your waist so hard you might bruise. you twitch as he rides out the last of his high before stilling completely. he pulls out of you slowly before laying next to you. he pulls you tightly against him, panting slightly as he settles. “i promise i don’t care what the media says. i love you."

___________________________________________

© lomlhwa 2024

[froggiewrites]

Midnight Guest

Pairing: Vampire!Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: Your roommate is strange, you’ve always known that. Most of his habits seem like harmless eccentricities. His insistence that you lock your door when you sleep, due to his “sleepwalking,” confuses you more than anything. But when you forget one night and awaken to him standing over your bed, teeth bared, you start to think maybe there’s more to Law than meets the eye. Warnings: AFAB!Reader (no pronouns or gendered language used), Smut, Vampirism, Biting, Blood Drinking, Possessive/Obsessive Behavior, Vaginal Sex Word Count: 3.2k Halloween Special 2024

Your roommate was a strange man.

You had always known that, of course, from the moment you stepped foot into the house. It was old, built to be so beautiful and grand you could have confused it for a temple, a place of worship. And the rent he offered was far too good to be true. You couldn’t afford a studio for what he asked you to pay, let alone half of a gothic mansion to be shared with a mysterious and handsome man. There had to be something wrong with him, some reason he would give this offer to you of all people. He insisted it was just too big of a house to live in on his own, too lonely for one person. 

“I just…hate being alone,” he had admitted.

You didn’t believe that, not from someone as quiet as him.

You were extra sure he was strange when you had your first real conversation. He remained flat and reserved until you mentioned you had seen his comic collection, which made him light up like a Christmas tree. He told you about Sora, Warrior of the Sea for two hours after that, with a boyish enthusiasm you had never expected from a perpetually exhausted man covered in tattoos. It was cute, though he didn’t appreciate it when you pointed that out, cheeks growing pink and lips growing into what he would insist was not a pout. Yes, you had always known Law was strange, but in a fun way, the kind that brings more fond smiles than exasperation.

But some of his habits were starting to make you think he wasn’t quite as harmless as you had convinced yourself.

The first time you awoke with him standing over you, eyes flashing in the dark, you screamed. He had the nerve to jump back as well, as though you had scared him. Sleep walking, he had called it. You don’t know many people who sleepwalk with their eyes open and their teeth baring down on you. But he was so apologetic, you couldn’t help but let it slide.

“I’ve just been so tired from work lately,” he had admitted quietly, cheeks pink and voice tight with embarrassment. “That hasn’t happened since I was a kid. I’m sorry. I…don’t really know how to stop it, but I’ll try. Maybe I need to get more sleep.”

“I think you should,” you had agreed, dripping with good natured concern. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you look like you haven’t slept in years. I’ve been worried about you, honestly.”

He chuckled. “I appreciate it. Maybe I do need a bit more rest. But…maybe you should sleep with your door locked. Just in case I sleepwalk again. I wouldn’t want to give you such a rude awakening twice.” He had said something else, but frankly you were a little too focused on his hands flexing nervously, showing off his long, tattooed fingers, to catch whatever it was.

And since you had taken his advice, you hadn’t woken up to any more men lurking over your bed. You had, however, woken up to the jiggling of your door handle more than once. One time, you had even heard a knock echoing through the room, though he didn’t answer when you called out to ask him what he wanted.

You also couldn’t help but notice how empty the fridge and pantry were, or how little you saw him eat. He had a small snack here or there, but he seemed to subsist mostly on coffee and whatever he keeps in those tumblers he always has nearby. You had asked once, but he brushed it off, changing the subject not-so-subtly. You assumed they were protein shakes, or some other supplement he used to avoid having to sit down and enjoy a real meal. A lot of Law’s life seemed like he was actively trying to avoid living it. He had his hobbies and friends, of course, but any of the mundane pleasures of life, like eating, sleeping, or even human interaction outside of his chosen few people he avoided like the plague. He focused on his work, and anything else was either carefully penciled in or discarded entirely.

Every conversation you had about it was unproductive. He insisted he was fine, that this was just how he was, but there was always a tension around him, one you can’t help but think would disappear if he would only allow himself to live for once. But you can’t say that to him. How can you ask a man if he even enjoys being alive?

But tonight was the night you would learn your concerns were all for nothing, due only to a lack of information, and nothing more.

You try another conversation about your concerns when he wanders into the kitchen while you’re cleaning up. You know it won’t lead anywhere, but you have to try. “Do you think you’ve been sleeping better, Law?”

He hums noncommittally.

“...Have you actually been trying?”

“I’ve…had a lot to deal with.”

You frown, turning around to face him. “Has work not let up at all? You’ve been running yourself ragged for months.”

He avoids your eyes. “It’ll pass soon.”

“That’s what you said two months ago.” You reach across the counter for his hand, fingers brushing lightly against his, and he frantically pulls his hand back as though he’s been burned. You try not to show your hurt on your face, but from the guilt on his, you know you’ve failed. “I’m…I’m just worried about you. I feel like things have only gotten worse for you since I moved in. Maybe I should just–”

He jumps at that, quick to correct, to move you away from that train of thought as fast as he can. “No, no, that’s not true. And you shouldn’t do anything different. Having you around has been…this is the most alive the house has felt in years. I’m just tired, really.”

“You’re still sleepwalking.”

He tenses. “Am I?” Something about his tone is strange. He doesn’t seem like he’s surprised, or at least not surprised that he is. More surprised that you know.

“Yeah. You really didn’t start doing that until I moved in?”

“Well, no one would be able to tell me if I had.” He still isn’t looking at you.

You sigh. Even knowing how unproductive these talks are, it’s always a disappointment to learn he won’t open up to you. You honestly can’t figure out why he keeps you around. Your presence clearly stresses him out, even if he won’t admit it. “Just…try to get some rest, please. And eat a real meal for once. You’re a doctor, you should know how to take care of yourself.”

He finally looks at you again, self deprecation radiating from his tight smile. “Right. I’ll try.”

He won’t.

But you can. After you finish wiping down the counters, you get ready for a long night of sleep. No point in staying up worrying over things you can’t control. A long, warm shower and comfy pajamas are sure to fix your problems.

And they do, really, for the few hours you remain asleep.

But then you hear the door open.

No jiggling handle, no knocking, nothing. Just the quiet creak of the hinges, and footsteps approaching. You’ve barely opened your eyes before you can feel the bed start to shift, and you look up to see the same sight you did months ago: Law, eyes feral and needy, his mouth open, teeth looking particularly long and sharp in the moonlight. Before you can open your mouth, you can feel his body against yours, every inch of him stiff, his hands clutching your shoulders, his teeth growing closer and closer to your neck.

“Law?”

His eyes are still hazy, his mouth still approaching.

“Law!” You try to push his arms away, but you find you’re not strong enough to make him budge for even a moment. But the fear in your voice when you realize you’re about to feel his teeth against you makes him stop midair, his eyes focusing a little.

“Huh?” He looks down at you in his arms, staring up at him with wide, frightened eyes, and he throws himself back with a speed and strength you didn’t know he had. You can hear him slam against the wall behind him, knocking all of your wall decorations askew and making the wall make a concerning creak. He stares at you, arms out, as though something is pinning him down, and he looks absolutely beautiful bathed in the moonlight that sneaks through your curtains. His eyes are hungry, and you can see his canines peeking out from his lips, almost looking like fangs. He’s naked except for a pair of gray sweatpants, hair mussed and tattoos on full display.

“Law?” He stares at you, still torn between hunger and fear. As you shift to sit up, you can see his eyes flicker between your neck and your breasts, your pajamas giving him a clear view of your cleavage. Normally you would be embarrassed, but the tension in the air makes you forget your vulnerability for a moment. “Are you alright?”

“You forgot to lock your door,” he murmurs, voice thick and deep. He hasn’t looked away from you for even a moment, and he hasn’t moved an inch.

“You were going to bite me.”

He licks his lips, something he often does around you. You had always thought it was a nervous habit, but combined with the look in his eyes, you’re starting to suspect perhaps there’s another reason. “I told you to keep your door locked.” It sounds like speaking takes effort, and you notice his hands trembling slightly.

“Why were you going to bite me?”

“I need to leave,” he says, not moving, staring intently at your exposed skin. He’s breathing heavily. His canines seem to have grown even longer. “Or maybe you should leave.”

“You’re…you haven’t been sleepwalking at all. You’ve been trying to get in every night. To bite me. With your teeth.”

“I…have.”

“Are you…” You can’t bring yourself to say the word, even with all of the evidence in front of you. It feels unreal, so ridiculous you feel as though you’re watching someone else live through it all.

“Yes.”

“And you’re hungry?”

His chest is heaving with the effort of holding himself back. “Very.”

“And you asked me to live with you anyway?”

He forces his eyes closed, pushing his head back against the wall. “It wasn’t very smart of me. I…I knew I couldn’t let you leave the moment you walked through that door. I needed you to stay. You don’t know what it’s like. …I thought I would have more self control than this, really.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

“Why couldn’t you let me leave?” You hate that your voice has a tinge of hope in it, like you aren’t in terrible danger, like your silly little crush on your roommate is more important than the very real threat he poses.

“You’re…you. And god, I need you.” He huffs out another breath. “You need to leave, really. Before I lose control.”

That should not have sent a shiver of excitement up your spine. “What if I didn’t?”

“Then I’d bite you.”

“And what if I wanted that?”

His eyes shoot open, and before you know it you’re pinned to the bed, a starving animal holding you down, every muscle in his body taut. “You…you shouldn’t…” He struggles to even get the words out, to keep up his good guy act when you can see the hunger in his eyes.

You lean up, exposing your neck fully, and just smile.

You’re pierced in a second.

The sensation is colder than you expected, and for a moment it really and truly feels like you’re going to die. Like you’ve made some horrible mistake for a pretty face and you’re going to pay the price for it. But before long, the ice in your veins fades away, leaving behind a pleasant warmth. It almost feels like you’re drunk, as your eyelids droop and an easy smile comes to your face.

You can feel every inch of Law pressed into you, from his warm tongue against your neck to his solid chest against yours and, most importantly, his hard and aching cock rutting against your thigh as he drinks. He hardly takes any time away from your neck, but whenever he does he’s panting, practically moaning against you. One of his hands goes to your chest, palming clumsily at your breasts, which easily spill out of your flimsy top. He looks down to see them, and groans from deep within his chest. “God, look at you.”

You try to respond, but in an instant he’s against your neck again, suckling, while his hand finds your nipple and pinches it between his fingers. You moan, far louder than you would ever admit, and your hips rut up into his. You can feel a wetness soaking easily through your pajama shorts, which he finds as well as he rubs against you, forcing the fabric between your folds and rubbing it against your clit. Your nails find his hair, gripping for dear life, and you hear him moan again. You can’t see them, but you can practically feel his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You try to speak again, to tell him to please fuck you, to complete the pleasure of the moment, but the only thing that leaves your lips is a pathetic cry of, “Law!”

He pulls himself back from your neck, lips dripping with your blood, staring at you ravenously. You fear he might swallow you whole. You fear you might enjoy that. His hand comes up, fingers gathering the blood dripping from his lips and chin. He maintains eye contact as he slowly and deliberately licks his fingers clean, refusing to waste even a drop of you. You clench your thighs together, which once again rubs the fabric against your clit just right, making you moan softly. His pupils blow out even further at the sound, his eyes nothing but inky blackness and desire.

You aren’t sure if it’s the warmth in your veins or your desire for Law that leaves you so pliable, so vulnerable underneath him. Either way, you find your thighs falling apart and your arms wrapping around him, begging him to take you. You whisper to him, “Please, Law, please. Finish what you’ve started. Have me.”

He leans down to clean the rest of the blood off of your neck with his tongue. “I want you,” he groans. “I have since the moment I saw you. God, you’re so delicious.” You feel his teeth graze against you again, desperate for a second taste. “You taste even better than I imagined, better than I dreamed.”

“You dreamed about me?”

“Every goddamn night. You’ve been haunting me.” He nips at your neck gently. “I couldn’t let you leave, no matter how much better it would be for you. I’m sick.”

You thrust your hips against his again, making his eyelids flutter and a soft choked noise escape his throat. “I’ve wanted you just as long.”

“I’ve never lost control over myself like this. You’ve done something to me.” He says it almost like an accusation.

You wrap your thighs around his waist in response, forcing your hips together again. “You’ve done something to me, too. I’d like you to finish it, if you don’t mind.”

He growls against your skin, something feral finally unleashing from him, and in one smooth motion he’s ripped off your pajama pants and underwear, leaving you bare and dripping for him. He thrusts into you in one smooth motion, making you nearly scream as your eyes roll back from the sensation. His pace is frantic, like if he stops for even a moment you’ll change your mind, or he’ll come to his senses, and it will all be over.

“Need you,” he mutters. “Need you to stay. Say you’ll stay.” There’s some deeper thread of desperation here, his voice pleading, nearly afraid. Like after all of this you’ll see him for what he is and leave him all alone in this house again, to be forgotten by time and left to rot.

“I’ll stay,” you moan. “I won’t leave you, Law.”

His hand finds your clit, a reward for giving him what he needed. His hands are as skilled as you had always hoped they would be, callused and moving exactly how you want them to. He makes you clench around him, ready to come undone so quickly under his attention. “You’re so alive,” he whispers. “So beautiful. And mine.”

“Yours, yes, yours!”

“Forever,” he insists.

“Forever!”

With your promise, his thrusts quicken, growing sloppy as he loses what little control he had left. His fingers and hips work frantically, bringing you to the edge easily, causing you to tighten around him as your vision goes white. At the same time, his teeth come down on your neck again, and he spills inside of you, filling you to the brim as he freely takes what he wants.

You’re panting, your heart pounding out of your chest, your blood flowing freely into Law’s waiting lips. Once he’s had his fill, he licks you clean again, before raising his head to look you in the eyes. “Forever?” He asks again.

“Forever,” you confirm.

He smiles. You watch as he bites his bottom lip, his fangs easily piercing the soft flesh, and he kisses you deeply and desperately. The taste of iron fills your mouth, at first repulsive but quickly growing into something sweet and irresistible. You lean further into him, sucking on his lip, taking whatever you can get, only stopping when he pulls back, pinning you down so you can’t chase his lips.

“Forever,” he whispers, tone filled with wonder. He kisses you again, tenderly, almost worshiping. “And you won’t have to spend a moment of it alone.”

You’re starting to grow unbearably hot, but even as you squirm, Law doesn’t allow you to move. He holds you there, under him, cock still inside of you. “Law, it’s hot. I need–”

“I know. It’ll pass.” He grins, teeth flashing dangerously in the light.

“What?” The haziness from blood loss and whatever endorphins came from a vampire’s bite start to wear off, and you start to tense. “What’ll pass?”

He doesn’t give you a straight answer. “It won’t hurt much, I promise.”

“Law, what did you do?”

He smiles, nuzzling you affectionately. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know. You won’t have to try to figure it all out alone. It’ll be the two of us, figuring it all out together. And we’ll have forever to do it.” He kisses you again as the heat overtakes you, turning swiftly from discomfort to pain.

But you’ll be alright, of course. Law is right there to walk you through it.

And he will be forever.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Just Say You Had A Bad Dream

Player 001 x Reader [SMUT] 📸

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Note: you guys know each other from High School.

You woke up a prison room. Not like the guy at the train station advertised AT ALL. Beds lined the walls, with you could only assume 500 people fluttering around, in the same confused state as you. You looked at the giant X and O that marked the floor along with the dividing line. You stretched, muscles tensing as you did.

Some dudes in pink walked in with masked shapes and all of a sudden the room confusion was broken and turned into angry shouting. You saw names and faces on a screen above them, including their debt. You prayed yours wouldn’t show, a cool ₩10.9 million would’ve been embarrassing until you heard a shocking number.

“10 billion won” the room went silent. All looking around for the guy who somehow racked up that much. Silence was quickly broken by him brandishing his debt. You rolled your eyes and laid back down.

Time Skip:

Voting time. After that first game, you were intrigued, wanting to know what else there was to play. The death hadn’t scared you a bit, after all, instructions were clear: move AFTER ‘red light’ and you’re dead. Just like in the real game, you’re out.

“Player 013” your number was called as you walked to go press the O button, regardless of the X’s trying to get you to change your mind. You stood quietly in the back awaiting dinner or bed time, you were hungry and tired. Fuck this you thought, I just wanna eat.

“Player 001” you turned and saw none other than Hwang In Ho. When he joined your vote he joined your group until the pink guys were gone.

He seemed to make friends quickly with another guy, some guy who was screaming earlier during Red Light Green Light. You stood behind him in line for dinner.

“No Fucking way. Hwang In Ho???” You said surprised when he turned his face.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” He looks at you alarmed.

“I’m here to play the game” you say coolly.

“How did you- why- how did you get here?” He asks sternly, pulling you aside.

“Uh same way you did?” You shrug.

“No no no no” he whispers quietly looking around seemingly towards the guards and cameras. “(Y/n), you can’t be here”

“Why not In Ho”

“You can’t call me that either”

You look at him. “Why not?”

“I can’t explain now, but I will eventually. Call me something else.” He looked towards that screaming guy before looking back at you.

“geoboki (turtle)?”

“Seriously, (y/n)?” He deadpans. “You haven’t called me that since high school.” You giggle.

“Well if I can’t call you by your real name, I’ll call you by your nickname, turtle boy” you poke him.

“You know, I really do miss you” he sighs finally. “Look do me a favor, approach me while I’m sitting with those guys later, I’ll make sure you survive” he grabs his food and walks away. Survive? Why would I need him to survive.

Time Skip: Later that Night.

“Come on, dude, I hate to be the one but I have to pee” you say as the pink guy shuts the window. “Fuck this” you say. You hadn’t used the bathroom all day, guess it was too much adrenaline coursing through you before you finally settled down.

“Hey, don’t you hear the lady? She has to pee.” You heard In Hos voice come out from behind you. “Matter of fact, so do I, open up” he bangs on the door. The door soon opened.

“Thanks geoboki” you whisper.

“Listen I need to talk to you” he pulls you into the men’s bathroom and drags you to a stall. “Look, be mad all you want and hate me later but I’m the only chance you’ve got at surviving this shit.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I run them.” He says. “I am the Frontman. They can’t kill me, I am their boss” he searches your face for a clue on what you’re thinking.

“So if I stay with you, I can survive?” He nods. “Okay.” You shrug. “I’m assuming I’m sworn to secrecy?”

“Yes, (y/n)” you nod slowly.

“Can I ask a question?” He raises an eyebrow. “What’re the policies about sex in a bathroom stall?”

“What?”

“We’ve done it once, back in junior year, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember” he smiles faintly as he remembers.

“Just while we’re in here for old times sake” you smile as you press your lips against his. He returns the kiss tilting his head to deepen it further. He sat on the toilet and pulled you onto his lap, you ran your hands through his hair.

“My God, your kisses haven’t changed” he groans before reattaching his lips to yours. He begs entry into your mouth with his tongue, you denied him. You feel him wrap his arms around you and pull you into his erection that’s in the middle of a war with his pants. Pulling a moan from you before pushing his tongue in your mouth.

“Talk about not changing, you pulled the same move on me 15 years later” he chuckles kissing you again. His hand slips into your pants, shoving a finger right into your core. His finger presses on your g-spot, rubbing against it. You feel his thumb tease your clit, having found it by memory. “No, no, I want you” you moan out.

“Then it’s me you’re getting.” He growls, standing up. He pushes his pants down and pulls your down. You kick off your shoes so you can free yourself. He picks you up and slams you against the stall. Dropping you on his angry cock. A guttural groan comes from inside his chest. “Fuck, why are you so tight?”

“Saving myself for you” you joke. He begins pounding into you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, leaving HICKIES on every bare square inch. You moan as he does, raking your fingers through his hair, you reach down into his shirt and dig your claws in.

“Oh god, (y/n), please. I want them to bleed” he groans as he fucks you. He angles and begins hitting your gspot, you nails dragging down his back as he did.

“I’m gonna cum” you groan as he kisses your lips. “Fuck I’m gonna cum”

“Hold it, I’m not done using your pussy yet. It feels too good”

“No no no don’t make me hold it. I can’t hold it” you say erratically. Beginning to lose your grip on reality as your close your eyes and see the entire alignment of the planets behind them.

“I said fucking hold it. I’m close but I’m not done” he growls. He presses his lips to yours again as he starts to moan. You share moans as you both near the climax. “Fuck” he drawls. He thrusts impossibly harder into you. “(Y/n) we’re gonna cum at the same time, I fucking swear. Count down to 5” he says into your neck as he moans.

“5” you say, your voice high and whiny”

“4- fuck I’m gonna come I’m gonna cum” he repeats before making a final thrust into you. You wrap your legs around him to keep them from shaking, feeling the knot inside you finally release, he lets out a few guttural moans as he thrusts slightly and empties himself into your pulsing pussy. You begin to hear your mixed juices hitting the floor in drops as you kiss each other. Heatedly making out yet again, his cock still inside of you. He sits down on the toilet with you on him as you both sigh heavily, your head dazily falling onto his shoulder.

“Holy fuck, I missed you”

“Yeah, I fucking missed you too” he replies pulling hair out of your face.

After getting cleaned up, the pair of you shamefully walk back into the room. Walking to your beds which were by the group of newly found friends were sleeping soundly.

He sat on his bed, gearing up to lay down and sleep the remainder of the night. As you turned to your bed, you felt his hand grip your wrist and pull you into his bed.

“What if they see us cuddled together in the morning” you jokingly as his arms wrapped around you.

“Just say you had a bad dream” he yawns and pulls you into his chest, spooning you. You quickly fall asleep in his arms.