#this websites compliment game is insane

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

you do fanart like a renaissance painter being commissioned by tue chursh to make biblical recreations/pos

Ty anon

#talking to the firebird #this websites compliment game is insane #but ur so sweet man ty #this is goin in the phoenix hall of fame asks #its goin on the fridge

[muckmage]

I think the reason you get so many anons is your pathetic dumb boy swag

Like don't get me wrong I think you're actually very smart, but you do have that dunce vibe and also you feel very kickable

Hope that helps

wha- whaT?! the fuck?? this- how- exCUSE ME??

this feels so uncalled for just totally out of nowhere pushing me down a staircase like this my god

#taking this as like a nice compliment and an egregious insult both at once what the heck 😭 #''this websites hatemail game is insane'' #02

[thegeminisage]

it is time for. NOT a tng update. but a ds9 update!!! wednesday* we watched "emissary" and actually i'm not clear on if we watched both parts or just one since my website is wonky but either way whatever we watched FUCKING RULED. i'm dispensing w the normal bullet points so i can ramble as much as i want

*it was last night actually but it took me all day to type this up so i'm scheduling it to go up later. it got looooong lol

the first most striking thing i noticed about ds9, or at least the first half of what we watched, is that it FEELS like a video game. someone tell me if this is insane. you're playing as sisko. you get flashbacks of his backstory, you get thrown into this starbase that's in shambles and it's Your Job to fix it up. you go around meeting all the secondary characters who will be in charge of this or that gameplay aspect or upgrade system or shop: kira, o'brien, quark, odo, jadzia, julian, etc. the FOLEY in this was insane. all the noise in the back CONSTANTLY suggested a lively and whole universe outside of our direct line of focus - it felt so alive in the way not even the enterprise in tos did. i could picture myself in the opening gameplay/cutscene like slowly walking my character through what will become a hub area that i gradually upgrade over time while kira or o'brien narrates the list of problems. you're starting at the bottom rung and expected to fail, but you can FEEL the potential even in just one brief walk through the promenade. IS THIS INSANE? it feels like an insane thing to say. someone PLEASE write in if you have ever had similar feelings. if they haven't made a ds9 game yet, they should.

i also notice that not only is the quality of the ds9 episodes worse than that of tng and tos - no one has remastered them into 1080p, apparently - but the lighting is very different, as well. it felt WEIRD to see picard and the enterprise D shot this way. but it also lends, perhaps unintentionally, perhaps not, a really gritty atmosphere to what is normally a very clean universe. i guess since we mostly see it from the inside of starships, it would feel like a sterile place to us, but you know how everyone always compliments star wars on how lived-in it feels? the buttons are wearing, sand is stuck in their fancy thingamajigs, etc? this was how ds9 felt to me.

okay. the characters. let's fucking get into it. what's so fun about ds9 in general is that in all other trek shows i have picked out my specialest little guy in 5 seconds flat. tos was spock EASILY. tng i knew it was data before i started. i already know seven's gonna be my favorite voyager character, but i have NO IDEA!!! who my precious little baby in ds9 will be. what a fun surprise for everyone involved. if anybody wants to place bets go ahead.

like, i thought tng had a pretty solid lineup (hence my eternal frustration with its wasted potential) but they're not anywhere as eclectic as ds9's core cast. iirc, sisko and o'brien are the ONLY humans who for once are outnumbered by trek's cool aliens. i'm saving sisko for last because that was the part of ds9 that touched me most profoundly, but for o'brien - it was a little sad to see him leave the enterprise, because picard was right, it WON'T feel the same without him, but i'm really excited to see why everybody says he suffers more than jesus and to find out if the eyepatch is a permanent thing or if it's just mirrorverse fuckery. either way, i win. like, o'brien is cool, and i always miss him when i don't see him in tng, and i'll continue to miss him in tng from here on out, but he could never shine in that show. it's too stiff and too reluctant to put its characters through any real development. it's a shame they can't ALL move to ds9, tbh.

the next person we met was kira, who was WONDERFUL. it took me a minute to warm up to her, not because there was anything wrong with her, but because i figured at first glance she was ds9's version of ro laren, the obligatory bajoran cast member to connect us with the bajoran/cardassian plot - which would of course be good because ro is awesome, but it's not necessarily anything new and i already love ro. BUT I WAS WRONG! kira's personality is very distinct from ro's; really the only thing they have in common is not liking cardassians which lmao Yeah. my favorite thing about kira is that she smiles when she's upset or angry. that's Such an acting choic, to have her grinning at the cardassians when she's almost certain they're about to blow her whole space station to smithereens. all love light and respect to ro laren my beloved, but i think i actually like kira BETTER.

odo: WHAT is that thing he can do oh my god...is this a changeling?? i got that result in a star trek quiz once. i really loved when he snuck aboard the enemy ship posing as a bag to hold gambling winnings. i was like oh they showed us the bag to show us it will get stolen soon BUT NO it was odo!!!!!!! such a fun surprise. the exposition on his backstory was a little slapdash but i enjoyed it all the same, i cannot wait to learn more

i was most nervous to meet quark because i hate hate HATE the ferengi in tng, but he was actually so entertaining! like, you're never gonna be able to entirely remove the antisemetic undertones from the ferengi as a whole, but he was smart, practical, and endearingly longsuffering. i love his wryness and deadpan humor. i have a feeling he is gonna be so much fun to torture lovingly.

meeting julian bashir felt like meeting a famous person. for the longest time all i knew about ds9 was that cardassian guy wanted to FUCK that gay little doctor, so it was a little hilarious that in his first scene he was asking a woman* out on a date. sir do you not know you're gay?? even funnier was the fact that out of everybody in the pilot he had the least lines. we barely know him, but we finally met him. relatedly, i can't to wait to meet more cardassians, especially The cardassian. so far, they're still all gay.

*jadzia!!! gnc/trans queen! the trill stuff is SO interesting and watching that worm slither in and out of people during those flashbacks was so wonderful but also made me wince. i love that she used to be an old man and the jokes about it are actually really funny without feeling transphobic or anything SO FAR. who knows if that changes. i feel like we haven't gotten much yet from her either but i cannot wait.

SISKO. damn. where do i even...first of all, he should be allowed to bite kick kill picard. i say this as someone who experienced a genuine THRILL of pleasure upon seeing picard's borged self again. i loved that whole thing, i'm obsessed with the borg. that it comes back in this small way in ds9, and has such a HUGE impact on the storyline, was so so so fucking good. i always say tng tells and not shows, but even after just knowing sisko for a few moments i felt keenly how much it devastated to find his wife like that and THAT WAS JUST FROM THE FIRST SCENE. and it only gets better! he's a great dad. he's FUNNY. he is not above manual labor. he wants to tear picard limb from limb. and he exists HERE.

the wormhole alien sequence was. so good. it was SO GOOD. explaining linear time to aliens. the aliens using his memories to talk to him. HE EXISTS HERE. back and back and BACK to finding his wife in the rubble because HE EXISTS HERE. he CHOOSES to exist here. he existed there when he applied for a transfer to earth. he existed there when he confronted picard. he never left the ship because HE NEVER LEFT THE SHIP. they dragged him out but they COULDN'T DRAG HIM OUT. he exists here because he won't leave her to exist here alone because damn it we can't just leave her here. that was the most insane series of events i ever watched. like, because at first you DO think it's the aliens taking him back there BUT IT'S HIM. HE IS DOING IT TO HIMSELF. when the penny dropped i got literal chill bumps and when the aliens said "it's not linear" and he, openly weeping, replied "it's NOT linear," i genuinely, truly, shed a tear along with him. TNG COULD NEVER. none of those miserable fucks EVER cry!!! sisko did it in the god damn pilot!!!!!!!

and like, the fact that he can choose to stay at the space station at the end, to shake picard's hand, to exist SOMEWHERE ELSE. AAAAAUGHGHGHG

i really loved the final confrontation, too. kira is so so so so good, again, i LOVE that she smiles when she's angry, when she's sad, and it's not a fake smile, it's genuine and honest emotion, and she's genuinely and honestly going to start eating the cardassians for sport if they don't leave her alone. it was very scrappy, them pretending to be bigger and badder than they actually were because they had no other choice. you get the feeling everybody on the station and indeed the station itself is barely holding together, and what little togetherness is present comes from sheer spite.

anyway, absolutely 10/10. i was so worried ds9 wouldn't be good but it not only met my most furtive hopes it surpassed them with flying colors. it's gonna be REAL hard to go back to tng after this.

#personal #star trek blogging #ds9 lb #what an exciting tag to finally get to use!

[wistfulweaverwoman]

58 and 72 for the ask game!! :D

Thank you so much for the prompt!!! I almost never get any, so this is a real treat!!!

58:

I think my favorite bit of figurative language I've written was for a Lily Everdeen (Katniss's mom) outtake. I was trying to explore her emotions around Katniss's father and his loss. This type of writing doesn't always flow for me, sometimes it's completely untapable. But when I wrote this I was feeling a particular grief for the boy that I loved growing up who died when we were 26. I find if I'm feeling a particularly strong emotion I can harness it for writing:

There’s something to be said about being poor and in love, a feeling of invincibility, the two of you against the world. Who needs food when you have each other. Who needs fuel for the fire when we could keep each other warm in the night. Still, we did alright, with his salary at the mines, his trades from what he could gather in the woods, my skills as a healer.  My father never said a word after I’d left, and my mother stopped begging me to return home after my beautiful black haired baby was born. She told me I was tainted.  I was tainted. With him, and his love. It grew in the strands of my hair and lived in the taste on my tongue. It was pressed to my knuckles and my hip and between my thighs. It was my air and my food and the clothes on my skin.  And then he was gone.  I shattered into dust with him, my pieces borne away in the wind. There was no air for me to breathe, but I had no body that required it, so what did it matter? There was something I was supposed to live for, or I’d have joined him. Afterall, how could my heart go on beating when he carried it with him? I stitched myself together, atom by atom, till eventually I resembled something human. A patched work woman. I was not what I was before the supernova, I do not recognize myself since clawing out of that void. I did not rise shining from the ashes like a mythical bird. I could not find all the pieces that were me, because they were him.

72:

I just went through and read all of the lovely comments I've received from readers over the years. Any comment is lovely. One was weird, they shamed me for not posting a trigger warner for something that didn't actually happen. But most of them are wonderful. Most consistently the feedback I get is that my characters are very in character (Canon-wise) and that I excel at weaving in book dialog with my own. One comment started with asking me jokingly if I was Suzanne Collins, which is a compliment in and of itself.

I have to say that my favorite writing compliment was a nomination for All-Time Favorite Hunger Games Fanfic for my first fic: The Awkward In-Between in the The Fanatic Fanfics Multifandom Awards.

I think there were maybe four other fics in that category and the two that I remember are The Miners Wife and When the Moon Fell in Love With the Sun (which of course won), both incredibly popular fics. I never expected to win, I never had many followers and even now, eight plus years since I posted the first chapter it only has around 260 kudos.

It's an insane honor and the biggest compliment that someone else thought my fic was worthy of such a title and then took the time to nominate it on a completely different website.

#wistfulweaverwoman #prompt #the awkward in between #lilymaid

[september796]

All of the fanart and compliments about the game are gonna make me go insane bc i STILL cant find a damn proper download link to the Cage series, the download links for CAGE -OPEN- and CAGE -CLOSED- are both broken on the game’s official website i am going to bite a brick wall

#cage open

[gamergoo]

i personally dont think ai generated art is stealing anything but it is usually very lazy, all it takes is some words and the computer does all the work, its not like you tell a paintbrush what you want to paint and it does it for you. its interesting, sure, and it certainly is "real art", but in its current state individuals dont need to be acting like theyre the ones who made it unless they literally programmed the ai itself. it deserves to stay and be developed upon and the "real art" argument people keep making is just reminiscent of nazis trying to decide what art is "real" and what art is degenerative, but redditors that plug some trending buzzwords into a free website dont deserve to call it their own. hope you have a wonderful day btw.

So. I’m a 3D artist, is my work lazy? It’s not like I physically construct a cube, I just tell it where the vertices go! It’s not like a digital artist is actually mixing their paint, they just type 6 characters in and get a color, sometimes the software even gives them split compliments and other color pallets! It’s not like a clay worker is actually chiseling marble right? Their clay is wet and pliable, it’s lazy! I think you see my point. You’re seeing a new tool in its infancy, and just writing it off as lazy immediately instead of watching how it develops.

I’m assuming you don’t actually like read or listen to what people who work with these generators do, maybe it doesn’t sound difficult to you but cultivating prompts to give you the desired image does actually take time, to say nothing of how it connects you to the neural net and gives you an understanding of how the particular one you’re working with understands the words you type. Like the absolute disinterest people like you have with an emergent technology is crazy to me, and the way you repeat conservative talking points while also criticizing them is INSANE!!!!! Jackson pollock wasn’t intimately detailing romantic landscapes or studying light and shadow like an impressionist, he added the layer of distance between brush and canvas! Sure his work was physically easy, but that doesn’t make it worthless or Intellectually empty, right? Abstract Impressionism isn’t lazy, right? Mark rothko’s color field branch of abstract Impressionism isn’t lazy right?

Genuinely you are verbatim repeating what people against the NEA like the American family association said in the 90s, or fuck even EXACTLY what was said about photography when it was made available in the late 1800s! Do you not hear yourself? “They just point the camera and press a button” “they just type some words and get a picture” like you do not want to broach the topic of Effort as Value with me of all people, that is a dangerous game to play. Shut the fuck up.

[on-the-pechka]

The 2000s: The Last Real Decade

Tonight I want to indulge in some nostalgia, for it is my greatest guilty pleasure. Nostalgia is the act of pleasuring oneself to one’s memories and sometimes even things one has never experienced. Ah how dirty and wrong it feels!

Post nut clarity has nothing on the sudden realization that I have allowed myself to slip into a nostalgic stupor. Upon awakening I say to myself, "Don’t romanticize the past you fool! You used to pee yourself in kindergarten almost every day! Your 2000s weren't soulful and lainpilled at all!" It is no use, I still long for yellowed keyboards and hard drives full of pirated movies. Life seemed so much more colourful back then. Before culture got stuck in 2008, before the internet got so fast that it wasn't fun to use anymore, before the world’s personality and charisma were refined out of it, before everything was available to everyone all the time! The joy of waiting, the joy of our human limits, I miss them so much! I hate this smooth, blue, bowling ball world!

Soul

If you were to ask the gay losers on this website what it is they miss about the 2000s, and what they think is missing in the present, they would almost unanimously proclaim: SOUL. When a person creates, they leave a certain trace behind, it is almost like a piece of their human soul, a fraction of their divine spark. Look at the above video. Incredible right? Now what if this video was remastered into 4K ultra HD with new high polygon 3D models and super realistic animation? Absolutely dog ass right? Completely shit and bad right?

The limits placed by technology forced everything to be expressionist to some extent, but now the limits are getting stripped away one by one. Every year a team of mostly Indian men come closer and closer to destroying everything I love. Can they stop already?

If I wanted to see real life, I would just go outside. Think of an ultra realistic painting: Am I supposed to be impressed that you painted a perfect image of a landscape and it took you 100 hours? I don’t care!!! Idiot!!! That’s not the point of painting!!! The point of movies is not to have insane special effects, the point of video games is not to replace real world experiences, and the point of technology should not be to erode the human condition, but compliment it!!! Gay!!! Gay!!! Irredeemable! All of them! So obsessed with moving forward that they never enjoy the present! The people driving “progress” hate being human, they want to create the Metaverse to “fix” hanging out. They want to fix everything, they want to refine everything, to make everything so streamlined and perfect! How sick they make me!  

Refinement, The Great Sterilizer

The passing of time has been steadily accelerating, and it has now gotten to a nauseating speed. For most of human existence, grandparents and grand children were and born into the same world. There used to be at least a few generations between major changes, there were long lasting eras and epochs.

The acceleration of culture has been going on for as long as there has been culture, but a few critical “advancements” led us to where we are today. The cultural tempo of the 20th century was born from the industrial revolution. Every 10 years or so there was a major shift in music, fashion, language, political movements, and public sentiment in general. This was a quick pace relative to the rest of human history, but it was still comprehensible. Then came the internet, and the ICT (Instant Communication Technology) revolution, and it gave way to a breakneck cultural tempo that is so incomprehensibly fast that we cannot even tell if it is moving. 

You probably want me to provide sources to back up all the claims I just made, but to me this is all self evident, and I don’t care about convincing... but to understand that it is not just me over here losing my mind, and that this is a real observed phenomenon, you ought to read this Lindyman article... and this article too. 

#anime #internet #internet history #internet culture #hikicore #anime sucks #rezero #rezero is bad #ifunny #nintendo #wii #animal crossing #4chan #lindy #lindy effect #metaverse #sigma #femcel #femcel rights #2000s core #normal

[juniorgman187]

Fighting Fire With Fire (Reid Fic)

Summary: Reader must lower her pride after a date goes wrong and the only one who can rescue her is her mortal enemy - Spencer Reid.

A/N: This was a beast of a fic to write. It’s been in my WIP since September, and I managed to go from 11 pages to 22 pages in three days. It is now my longest fic thus far. I am insanely fucking proud of it and I hope it does well. Category: Angst Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: allusions to ‘catfishing,’ allusions to abduction, dub-con to taking provocative photos, alcohol, mentions of bruises, jealousy, carrying hug which implies weight of Reader (lmk if I missed anything) Word Count: 11.7k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I tried to play nice; I really did, but there was no getting through to him. Everyday started and ended with us fighting fire with fire.

Maybe the reason the two of you butt heads so often is because of how similar you are.

That’s what the team would say when Spencer and I got into one of our daily (sometimes hourly) arguments. 

They constantly encouraged us to get to know each other so that we’d finally see the likeness, and until recently, I wasn’t opposed to the idea. I was willing to do whatever it took to get him to like me. However, as previously mentioned, my willingness quickly dissipated in light of recent events. 

Voluntarily spending more time than necessary with him would be a recipe for disaster no doubt. 

Somehow, in a matter of a month, Reid decided that he simply did not enjoy my presence, which was the nice way of putting it. 

To be more crass, he loathed me to no end.

Initially, I was operating under the assumption that he wasn’t fond of change, and with me joining the BAU, the change was too much too fast for him, but after four weeks, his attitude toward me never deviated. Yet again, I made another excuse for him, arguing to myself that people are allowed to not like me. I could respect that, but where he lost my respect was how he made a conscious effort to remind me of how much he despised me. Even when I was at my nicest, he still treated me like a scelerate. 

If there was a prize for gaining a mortal enemy in the shortest amount of time, I guess I already won that without even trying. He hated me with a burning passion, for reasons unbeknownst to me, despite the fact that all I’d ever try to do was be his friend. 

For far too long, I kept denying the part of me that knew making peace with him outside of work wouldn’t go well and it’d simply go down in history as another failed attempt of mine to form a bond with him, so it was at this point that I decided to face the facts. 

He didn’t make it easy for me, either. It was hard having to be kind to someone that was only ever out to get me. 

He would constantly correct me but only after I said something incorrectly, just so he could prove me wrong. 

“If each police officer patrols a street, we’ll be able to cover the entire comfort zone.”

“Actually, we’d need three more officers if we want to cover the entire comfort zone. There’s still 2.347 miles that are unaccounted for.”

I never understood why he couldn’t just say his piece before me so that I didn’t look like an idiot, but I suppose that was the point. 

And he had this infuriating, unwarranted habit of judging my taste in cinema and literature. Anytime I told Emily or Derek about a movie I saw or told Rossi about a book I read, he felt compelled to share his antagonistic opinions as if I asked for them in the first place. Sometimes even spoiling the endings for me!

“Rossi, I just started reading Doctor Sleep!” I was so eager to tell Rossi that, so much so that I’d become blind to one dark cloud’s own eagerness to ruin the fun. 

“The hotel burns to the ground, but the ghosts don’t die with it.” 

He said it with such monotony and nonchalance, not even bothering to look up from his own book to watch my reaction to his menacing act. He just didn’t care!

The list of reasons not to like him truly did go on and on, so it was almost insulting how people would compare the two of us. 

They’d bring up the congruence in intelligence, the same affinity for reading, and closeness in age, but it only made me madder. The last person I wanted to resemble was Reid, except today, I gained another glaring similarity to him.

“Look at you two. Did you plan your outfits or something?” Emily playfully pointed out after I walked into the conference room. 

I eyed the doctor sipping at his cup of coffee who swiveled around in his chair to see what everyone else was seeing. Just from a short glance, I spotted his navy blue button-up with white polka dots that was nearly identical to the color and print of my dress.

“Well, looks like one of us has to go home and change.” His lips grew into a mischievous smirk behind the rim of his mug. 

Was that a joke? Did Spencer Reid make jokes now?

“Ha ha. Very funny.” I facetiously remarked, taking the only open seat at the table which was next to the jokester himself. 

“I’m kidding. You look really nice today.” He alleged without a hint of irony. He was complimenting me now, too? It was so unfamiliar that it felt like uncharted territory, possibly even a trap.

“Why? Because I’m dressed like you?” I wasn’t going to fall for his words now, maybe the version of me who would do anything to gain his approval would have. She would’ve smiled and said ‘thank you,’ but this me was going to challenge him if that was the last thing I ever did. “Bit of a narcissist are we, Dr. Reid?” 

“Mmm maybe,” He wagered, tilting his head from side to side as if to contemplate the possibility. “Or maybe I just really think you look nice.” 

Without even thinking, my heart skipped a beat. I was utterly repulsed by how I let his words have any effect over me. I couldn’t believe that he’d actually managed to fluster me with mediocre flattery. 

It felt like years that I had to sit next to Reid at the round table before Hotch dismissed the team for the flight.

30 minutes later, and we were on the jet. I’d taken one of the seats at the table opposite Derek and Emily, with Spencer beside me. 

Little things like this I could handle, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he started bothering me. Morgan was listening to music and Emily was turned around in her seat, facing the back to talk to Rossi. Reid was playing himself in chess, and it took all of my self-control to not be a total asshole and knock the board and its pieces over and into the aisle. Luckily, I had a good enough distraction. 

Grant: can you ft tonight?

Me: we’ll see. i might have to work overtime. 

For the months that I had been talking to Grant, I was deliberately ambiguous about my job because I wasn’t exactly keen on telling him that I worked for the FBI and that I might not be able to FaceTime him since I was in the process of investigating a series of homicides. That’d surely scare him away and I was never one to flaunt my government job anyway.

Grant: you look stunning today

Me: you haven’t even seen me today 

Grant: don’t need to. 

Grant: you’ll always be stunning to me. 

“Who keeps texting you?” 

I looked up from my screen to see Reid fixated on his game but still engaged in my business. 

“No one,” I harshly replied, making a conscious decision to turn my phone on vibrate so he wouldn’t hear the chime of my text notifications.  

With one nimble side glance, Reid eyed my screen. I nudged him away with extra force.

“Nosy much?!” 

This stunned him. He wasn’t used to my coldness, he probably expected me to smile in a chagrined manner and not confront it - as I would have done - but now I was fighting back, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he liked it. 

I knew he could read fast, but how he managed to look at my phone so quickly it was like he never even moved his eyes - I didn’t know. Somehow, though, he managed to capture Grant’s entire username, and I didn’t doubt that he caught my entire conversation with him, too.

“Who’s Grant?” The name rolled off his tongue like he was insulted to even be saying it. 

“No one.” 

He didn’t respond soon after I said this, which I misinterpreted as a little victory for me since I almost believed he was going to drop the subject, but in true Spencer Know It All Reid fashion, he just kept going. 

“‘You look stunning today B-T-W. You haven’t even seen me today. Don’t need to. You’ll always be stunning to me.’ Doesn’t really sound like a ‘no one’ to me.” His recitation of my entire PRIVATE conversation with Grant embarrassed me. 

Did I forget to add his eidetic memory and speed-reading ability to the list of reasons not to like him?

“Shut up!” I nudged him, this time using much more force than the last. I was becoming more and more inclined to push over his ridiculous chess game so that he’d finally take me seriously. 

“Oh, really clever by the way. Vaguely insinuating that you ‘might not be able to call him because you’re working overtime’ just so you don’t have to disclose the true nature of your job.” Spencer’s sarcasm was thick.

“Are you just jealous because the only date you’ve been on was a fake one with a serial killer and not even your actual girlfriend while she was alive?” My reference to Cat and Maeve caught the attention of the entire jet. 

Each member mentally rolled their eyes thinking ‘Here we go again.’ And if that wasn’t their reaction, they were certainly cringing at the fight that was ensuing. 

Things had been suspiciously good between the two of us today so it was about time we argued. We were due for our daily quarrel.

“Oh, that’s right! The only girls who like you are victims in our cases.” Now this comment was referring to Lila and Austin. (I had Penelope to thank for filling me in on all of Reid’s ‘entanglements’ after I was first reassigned).

“Really? You wanna go there?” He sassed back, diverting his attention away fully from his chess game now. “Do you know how many people get ‘catfished’ when using online dating websites? Or the statistics on how many people are raped, assaulted, or murdered by said ‘catfish’?” 

“I’m not stupid, Reid. He and I have been talking for months. We’ve been on calls and Facetime before, too. We’ve just never met in person. Sound familiar?” 

“What Maeve and I had is not at all comparable to what you and this ‘guy’ have. And just because you’ve seen his face before doesn’t mean he’s not a serial killer or operating under an alias.” 

I had to scoff. Who was he to label our relationship valid or not?

“What’s it to you anyway? We all know you’d be ecstatic if this guy turned out to be a serial killer or catfish. You’d get to rub it in my face and say ‘I told you so.’” 

This touched a nerve. He hated it when I attacked his nice-guy facade. 

“Is it so hard to believe I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Fine. If you think I don’t care about you, then don’t come crying to me when you realize he’s not the guy you think he is.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t! It’s not like you’d be able to protect me anyway, Pretty Boy.” I sneered, using Morgan’s nickname for him as an insult got to him, and I could see it in the way his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. 

Hotch had to interject now. “Alright, (y/l/n), Reid, that’s enough. We need to focus on what’s actually important.” 

I settled back down in my seat, facing forward and avoiding eye contact with Reid. 

“Have fun on your date,” He muttered under his breath. “Hope you survive it.”

Bastard.

For the rest of the case, I was on edge. Deliberately avoiding him was a much harder task than one might think. I had to wait at least ten minutes for my coffee, so I wouldn’t be at the machine when he was there, and if I had to guess, he probably took longer just to make me wait in agitation. I had to awkwardly squeeze into a new spot beside Rossi and Hotch when we were delivering the profile. I had to ask not to travel in the same SUV as him. 

And this exhausting routine went on for days. In fact, I’d managed to almost go the entire case without interacting with him. That was until Hotch sent us both in the field to apprehend the unsub. 

“Are you sure?” I asked with clear reluctance. 

“Are you questioning me?” Hotch replied sternly. 

“No, sir.” 

I was already on thin ice being the new recruit, so I knew better than to question any of Hotch’s orders. And as miserable as working with Reid was, I figured he’d at least ease up on the hostility when we needed to be professional. Evidently though, even in the field, he wasn’t willing to work together with me. 

It was a quick decision, not careless in the least, however. The unsub had locked himself in his warehouse and refused to leave unless we were brave enough to drag him out of there ourselves. The ultimatum he gave specified that only one of us could do it and we both agreed that I should go in, seeing as he’d underestimate my strength as a woman, and I’d have the upperhand when I inevitably apprehended him. 

However, he also explicitly told us that I couldn’t come in with a gun - it had to be an even playing field. 

“You are not going in without a gun,”  Reid ordered. 

“We don’t have time to argue about this - I have a spare on me, okay? There are three hostages in there, two of which are children.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I handed him my gun and holster.

Had I let him waste a single second more of my time, we wouldn’t have been able to save the three hostages and successfully arrest the unsub. I saw this as a victory and I was almost willing to celebrate it with him, but it wasn’t long before he let our enmity tear us apart again. 

When we got back to the precinct, I went to the locker room to change, then suddenly, Hotch came in. 

“I’ve been informed that you went in unarmed against a fellow agent’s orders. This matter will be discussed in my office when we get back. I should warn you, (y/n), you do not want to make this mistake again.” Hotch left me with those foreboding words, and I knew, I knew immediately that Reid was to blame for this.

If I took a look in the mirror of my locker, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I saw that my face was turning a bright shade of red. I was fuming - bursting at the seams from the anger building within me that was desperately fighting to escape. I could imagine myself as a cartoon character with steam blowing out either of my ears. I was about to go on a rampage, and no one - absolutely no one - could stop me. 

The last straw was hearing him come in. This was my opportunity to unleash what was already boiling. 

“What the hell, Reid? ‘(y/n) went in unarmed.’ Seriously?!” I undid the velcro on my vest so hastily out of my blind rage that the spiky side of the velcro strip nearly sliced my finger. “Are you trying to get me fired?” 

“If that’s what it takes to make you realize how stupid of a choice that was, then yes, I do.” He was so calm and collected in his inflection that it angered me all the more. 

“What are you even talking about? What ‘stupid choice’? You knew I had a second gun on me. And even if I didn’t carry it, I still would’ve had my vest on. I wasn’t going in unarmed or unprotected, so why would you tell Hotch that?” 

“In the time it would take you to assess the danger, react, and then reach for the gun at your ankle, the unsub would’ve been able to shoot you twice - if not more. That’s going in unprepared, which is going in unarmed.”

I scoffed in disbelief that he was actually reprimanding me. “Are you kidding? This is all based on a technicality? Did your eidetic memory somehow forget about what happened with Maeve? Because my memory didn’t. I know for a fact that you went into that warehouse without a vest or a weapon. And unlike you, I had a spare and my vest. AND I actually apprehended the unsub. Did you stop Diane?”  

This crossed a line and I knew it, but it was too late to take it back, and clearly, it was much too late to repair any relationship I had with him. We were far beyond the point of no return. 

He was so mad that he didn’t even answer me. The only response I could gauge was from his body language, which by the looks of it, all the signs of anger were plain on his face. He clenched his jaw so hard I could hear his teeth grind. Even his nostrils flared so primitively. His eyes narrowed down at me with a glare that said, ‘I’m the predator and you’re the prey.’

“Yeah, exactly.” I spat when he stayed silent. 

I turned around, starting towards the exit, but I was too furious to stop there, so I spun around and unleashed the remainder of my wrath that had been dying to come out. 

“Look, I get it. I’m the new kid around here, and it sucks when someone new comes in and changes up the team dynamic, but any mistake I make, or any mistake Hotch thinks I make, could send me packing. You’ve been working in this unit for years, and even if Hotch questions your choices, he won’t reassign you. He won’t even threaten it. He’s willing to overlook your mistakes because he knows that what you have to contribute to the team is too vital to let go, but I haven’t even had my chance to show him what I have to offer. So when I do make a mistake, there is nothing for me to fall back on, nothing to redeem me, and no safety net, but you? You have years of experience on your back to break your fall. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me a favor by reporting my ‘mistake’ to Hotch. You might be costing me my dream job, and if you think that makes us friends - think again.” 

I stormed out of the locker room seeing red. 

This war was far from over. 

_ _ _

“You’re clenching your fists again,” Emily said under her breath. I was grateful that she said it in a hushed tone, otherwise she might’ve revealed my lingering anger to the whole jet, which wouldn’t have been good. 

I immediately unclenched them, opening up my hands to reveal small, dark C shaped imprints on my palms from where my nails had dug into them. 

I should’ve expected that she would’ve learned at least one of my tells by now. I did have many after all. Cheek biting, fist-clenching, leg bouncing. 

“Something bothering you?” She probed quietly. 

She set her book down to give her undivided attention to this conversation. That was enough to tell me that an excuse like, ‘Nothing, I’m fine,’ would not suffice. She wouldn’t be satisfied until I told her the truth, which I surely did not want to tell. So I settled for a half-truth.

“Hotch wants to talk when we get back.” 

From my peripherals, I saw her knit her brows together in confusion. “Is . . . is that it?”

“Mhm.” I lied. 

“But that’s not enough to warrant the fist clenching. Cheek biting - sure - you do it when you’re anxious, but not fist-clenching. You only do that when you’re angry about something.” 

“Oh, so you have figured out all my tells,” I smirked.

“Pfft, I figured them all out the first week you got here, but I won’t tell you the rest, otherwise you might try and hide them from me,” She joked. 

I shook my head playfully. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just worked up about something - it’s nothing you need to worry about though.” Habitually, my eyes looked right up in his direction. I caught a glimpse of him sprawled against the couch, sleeping. He was lucky I wasn’t ranting about the little stunt he pulled earlier to Emily. He should be thankful that I was even trying to protect his reputation to her at all. 

“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but it does help. Take it from me, someone who really only trusts myself, you shouldn’t hide what you feel.” 

What you feel. 

I clung onto those words. 

What was I really feeling? 

Was I upset that instead of receiving praise for the arrest I made, I was scolded like a child? Was I angry that Hotch believed what Reid had to say about my “problematic behavior” instead of believing in me? 

Or did I feel betrayed that despite my best efforts to build a bridge, Reid was tearing it apart brick by brick? Burning it to pieces with the fire of his rage?

“Thanks.” I bleakly said to Emily. I would’ve told her the truth, but it didn’t feel necessary at that moment. If anything, it just would’ve reflected badly on me. 

Truthfully, she was the closest thing I had to a friend in the BAU, and if I wanted a permanent spot here, I needed to make more of them - and fast. 

“Hey, (y/n), we’re all going down to O’Keefs tonight to celebrate. You wanna join us?” Morgan asked, walking up the aisle and crouching down beside my seat to talk to me. 

“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to talk with Hotch when we get back,” I explained, smiling politely. 

“We can postpone the meeting till first thing Monday morning. I need to go home and be with Jack, anyway,” Hotch added. 

I didn’t realize he could hear me from where he was sitting, which made me all the more nervous that he might’ve overheard the entire conversation between me and Emily earlier. 

“Looks like I’m free,” I looked back at Morgan. “Does the offer still stand?”

“Anything for you, sweet cheeks.” He winked. 

Judging from the lightness of the atmosphere, everyone, except maybe Hotch and Rossi, would be celebrating at O’Keefs - including Spencer. 

I think I might’ve actually preferred to be scolded by Hotch tonight, instead of being silently glared at by Spencer, but it was already too late to revoke my confirmation of presence. 

Because, if Hotch could hear me from where he was sitting, then Spencer could, too. 

He already heard I was coming, and there was no way I was backing down.

_ _ _ 

In spite of the fact that I could barely hear myself think over the loud chatter and blasting music, I could still feel the rage radiating off of Spencer. You would think with how long his nap was on the jet, he wouldn’t be so cranky, but I guess he just couldn’t sleep off his disdain for me after our minor altercation. 

I wondered if the team could see it, too. The way he was burning a hole into me with his fiery stare. The tension was palpable, as it has always been, but remember - I’m not the one who wanted it that way. 

He started this. I was only making the feeling mutual. 

“So what about you, (y/n)? Are you seeing anyone?” 

I tried to hide my growing smirk behind the rim of my beer, but I knew I couldn’t hide much from them. Of course, right across from me, Spencer was glaring at me expectantly, waiting for the answer he already knew. 

“Oooh, look at her - she’s blushing! Spill.” Penelope ordered, beating her palm on the table so enthusiastically it shook all the drinks on it.  

“Well, there’s this one guy I’ve been seeing for a while,” The second I started speaking, I noticed Spencer rolling his eyes. I figured his apprehension was the only response of its kind that I would receive, but I was very mistaken. 

“How did you two meet?” Penelope giddily asked, nearly jumping up and down in her seat. 

“A dating app, actually.” 

The table went completely silent, and I immediately felt my stomach drop. It was as if I’d just said something very wrong. With just a quick glance in front of me, Spencer was basking in this. 

What a dick.

Emily hesitated to ask. “...Have you two met in person before?” 

Now it was my turn to hesitate to speak. “No, not yet.” 

I took another sip of my drink even though I wasn’t thirsty. I just wanted to hide any part of my face I could to shield myself from the five sets of eyes burning holes into me now, rather than just the one. Trying to make matters better, I spoke all too quickly, nearly sputtering on my beer. “I’m completely safe, though. Nothing sketchy’s going on, I promise.” 

“Of course,” JJ agreed. “We totally trust you,” neglecting to attach the cliche, ‘It’s him we don’t trust.’ But if she had, it would’ve spoken everyone’s bubble thoughts right about now. 

“Just be careful, mama.” Derek’s response felt the most sincere, and I honestly believed he was happy for me, but it didn’t change how much their judgement initially stung. 

For the rest of the night, I didn’t talk. No one noticed. 

Except maybe the last person I wanted to notice. 

I quietly slipped away somewhere in the night when the conversation was at its highest precisely so they wouldn’t question where I was going or if I was okay. If they had asked, the truthful answer to the former would’ve been ‘just outside to get some air’ and the latter ‘no.’

The cool breeze drifted through the door like rising fog and for the briefest moment in time, I felt suspended in the space around me - I’d finally caught my breath. That feeling wouldn’t last long, though. 

I’d intentionally gone outside to compose myself until I came back a person who wasn’t on the verge of tears, but apparently, trying to pull myself only resulted in my falling apart. A ball of yarn unraveling is the closest comparison I can draw to what I must’ve looked like, crying quietly on the street.

“I figured I’d find you here.” 

It was the mere sound of someone’s voice that shocked me, but it was the person whose voice it was that led to the frustration that followed. 

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside talking to the team of people who also agree with you about Grant?” 

He was too much of a nuisance to warrant exchanging eye contact with so I simply stared forward as I spoke and wiped the tears away that were still pooling on my lower lash line. I hoped he hadn’t actually seen me crying, but from what I could tell, he was probably standing there long before he said something. And if he was truly looking at me as deeply as it felt like right now, then he’d have noticed my bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks, and unending sniffling. 

“Is that why you disappeared back there? Because you’re upset they didn’t exactly like the idea of your relationship?” The pain in the ass really tried, he really tried to get me to look at him by facing me and making these gestures with his hands that should’ve gotten my attention, but instead, I stayed put leaning against the wall, keeping my line of sight straight ahead. 

“(Y/n), they weren’t insulting you or judging you -”

“Then why did it feel like it?” For the first time since he’d joined me, I’d looked at him. I didn’t even mean to and I had every intention of denying him that privilege for the entire duration of our conversation, but as soon as I asked him my question, we locked eyes, and I saw it written all over his face. 

He felt sorry for me. 

Now, he could clearly make out how distraught I was from this unobstructed view of my face that was kindled by the dim, flickering yellow glow of the streetlight beside us. And he kept staring, looking into my eyes to read me just as easily and just as quickly as he read a book. 

“All we want is for you to be safe,” His voice crackled momentarily, and it actually touched some part of me for how genuine it sounded. “We weren’t trying to judge you or to insult you, and I’m sorry if it felt that way, but if we want your safety, and you tell us about something that could be potentially harmful, then of course we’re going to be apprehensive about it. That’s how people that care about you should react.”

“So are you saying that I don’t care about myself because I’m engaging in something risky?” Isn’t that the most ironic statement of this year? The definition of our job was risky, and even if this wasn’t the safest relationship on the planet, it was nothing like what we put ourselves through everyday being in the field. 

“No, that’s not what I’m saying -”

“So what are you saying?” I dared. He shook his head and sighed like he was about to give up, but I needed an answer. “No, please, do continue. Finish what you were gonna say. Since you apparently know everything, 187. Please go ahead - tell me what you think I should do.” 

Tell me what you really came out here to say, I ordered him with my eyes.

“I think I respect you more than you respect yourself, and that’s really saying something. Because if you actually liked yourself as much as I do, then you would realize that subjecting yourself to this nonsensicality of a long-distance relationship is not only dangerous - but insulting to your worth, too. You deserve more than that, (y/n).” He couldn’t have been clearer when he murmured a low and firm, “Much more.” 

The world was spinning on its axis too fast for me to process anything he said before snapping back at him. “So what exactly is it you want me to do?”

With utmost clarity in both annunciation and intention, he told me, “Break up with him.” 

Not a shadow of a doubt in his words. 

Then, like the phantom of the opera himself, he vanished back into the bar, but even if he had stayed, I wouldn’t have had anything to say to him. I was simply rendered speechless.

Circling back to my previous argument, I questioned once more why was it any of his business anyway? I was allowed to do as I pleased and I most certainly did not have to listen to him. And I didn’t. 

But I should’ve. 

_ _ _ 

My Monday morning meeting with Hotch wasn’t nearly as fire and brimstone as I thought it would be. It did however feel like the equivalent to an “I’m disappointed in you” parent speech. In some ways, I related to the average teen who was grounded. Except instead of my phone being taken away, it was my freedom. From now on, I could only follow executive orders that had been given to me. At least for the time being. 

It was clear that, deep down, some part of Hotch knew what I’d done was the right call, but he couldn’t give me any favors. Not until they were deserved on my end. 

Walking onto the jet after our meeting, however, felt more juvenile than the punishment itself. I was a kid again, re-entering my classroom after using the restroom, only to have all eyes on me as I came through the door.

As per usual, the only empty chair was next to Reid. There’d been too many instances of this happening to think it was just a coincidence. At this point, I had to assume it was by design. Whose design however? That I didn’t know.

“Hello, trouble,” He sang when I took my seat. 

I could only assume that this new nickname was based on what took place in Hotch’s office - thanks to him, need I remind you - but I didn’t care to know the origin because that would require talking to him, and for several reasons, that was the last thing I wanted to do. The first of which was what happened less than three days ago. An event we both hadn’t mentioned yet, and I hoped we never would. 

I took every preventative measure in the book. I changed seats with JJ. I moved to the couch. I even started reading in the little hallway between the kitchenette and bathroom of the jet to avoid sitting beside him, but against all my best efforts, he always found a way to bug me. When there’s a will, there’s a way. After exhausting any real reason he had to talk to me, he had to get creative. 

“You’ve been on that same page for four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.” I heard him say when he walked up to the kitchen to reach for the pot of coffee. Almost expecting I’d ask him what he meant, he added the explanation casually. “It never takes you more than three minutes and twelve seconds to move onto the next page. So either you’re not understanding the material or you’re not actually reading.”

It was utterly hilarious of him to imply that either of those things were definitely the answer. “What if I’m just taking my time reading this page, genius? Ever thought of that?” 

His eyes turned into slits as he leaned in closer to examine me. “You’re blinking rate just increased, too.”

“Stop!” I screeched childishly, pushing him away by his shoulders in an attempt to get him off my back, but he was far from off my back. No, he was right against it. More specifically, his hand was on the small of it. 

Leaning in so close that his lips were practically pressing on the shell of my ear, he whispered, “Come find me when you’re ready to tell me the truth.”

He didn’t need to know his words or actions had any sort of effect on me, so I kept the most stoic facial expression on, and I didn’t say a single thing back. He turned back around to leave with the hand on my back being the last thing to go. His lingering touch caused a shiver to run down my spine while paradoxically burning my body from the friction. 

I was disgusted with myself for having let him elicit any sort of reaction from me, even if he wasn’t aware of it. 

“Yeah ... well, d-don’t expect that to be anytime soon,” was my poor attempt at a retort to shut him up.

“Whatever you say, trouble.” 

_  _ _ 

Personal space can be a wonderful thing. Much less so when it’s invaded, however. 

After what felt like the longest flight ever, all I wanted was to take a shower and go to bed. My wishes were granted when I was able to wash off the stress and exhaustion and slip into a blush pink satin pajama set Grant sent me that I’d been meaning to wear. The plunging neck of the tank top was lined with lace and adorned with the tiniest little bow at the center. To match the shirt, the hem of the shorts were lined with lace that trailed up the small triangular slits on the side of the shorts, where at the vertex of them was the same little bow detail. For such a pure and innocent color as baby pink, you’d think it’d be somewhat less revealing. The longer I started at myself in the mirror while wearing it, the more aware I’d become of the intentions behind why Grant had sent it. 

How cute, I thought, rolling my eyes.

Gifts should always be appreciated, if for no other reason than the effort put into it, but this just felt slimy. There was obviously no valiant romantic intent behind the negligee, which spoiled the delight of receiving something out of the blue from him. What’s worse was that I wasn’t even sure how to thank him for something like this. 

Me: thank you for the pajamas. they’re so cute!

Lying was easier over text message, in case you were wondering what the perks of a long distance relationship were. 

Grant: good, I’m glad you like them. are you wearing them right now? 

But sometimes, when you should lie, you don’t. And you regret it later on - take it from me. 

Me: yeah, they’re super comfy

Grant: great! i wanna see them on! take a pic 

As if to compensate for the indisputable hatred I had for this lingerie and what it stood for in our relationship, I did the only thing I could think that would make him think I really liked them. That I felt good in them. 

I took pictures - not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, Yelp review pictures, though - provocative ones. 

In the same breath I went to take them, though, Spencer’s words rang through my head. 

You deserve more than that. Much more. 

Shaking off the thought of Spencer, I decided against what the little voice in my head that sounded too similar to his would’ve said. 

To add to the illusion, I situated myself within the hotel sheets and used the front camera to capture my chest that was very much on display in this top. In the middle of rolling around the bed, trying to find the angles that wouldn’t show my face of dejection, the door opened. 

Instantaneously, I clawed at the sheets until they wrapped around me like a towel. I was ashamed to admit they provided more coverage than these ‘pajamas’ did.

My shriek of shock must’ve sounded familiar to the stranger intruding on me because no sooner did I scream than they questioned, “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?”

Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

“Spencer, what the hell are you doing in here?” I grumbled, struggling to maintain a tight enough grip on the sheets that would keep them from falling and unveiling a sight I desperately did not want him to see. 

“I asked you first.” 

Boy, if you only knew how badly I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face. “This is my hotel room obviously. Your turn.” 

Returning just the same tone, inflection, and vocals, he imitated me. “This is my hotel room obviously.” Like one of those magic tricks he’d show Henry or Jack, he miraculously flashed a room key between his index and middle finger that wasn’t there before. 

“No, that’s impossible.”

“I opened the door, didn’t I?” That damn smirk was still there when he asked this. Maybe, just maybe, if it hadn’t been so condescending, I would’ve thought his sarcasm was ... attractive. Disgusting, I know. 

“Well, if you actually plan on staying here, then you’re sleeping on the floor or the couch, got it?”

My question went unanswered until I turned around to follow where he’d traveled in the time that I spent pondering how this happened. Now perched at the window, sitting on the arm of the chair in a way that chairs weren’t meant to be sat on, he continued to stare silently at me. 

“What? What is it?” I urged. 

“What’s going on with the …” He made a side to side sweeping motion with his key card. “Bed sheets?” 

Consciously, I shimmied the fabric further up my body. Seeing as there was virtually no way to escape an honest answer, I confessed. “If you must know ... I’m wearing p-pajamas.” My own body was rejecting the shameful admission causing the word to stumble out of my mouth. 

He didn’t need to know any more than that to gather what kind of garments they were. He already figured it out.

“Did Grant give them to you?”

I almost rolled my eyes at the implication. “What makes you say that?” 

“Because I know you,” He punctuated every word perfectly. “And I know that you wear big shirts and sweatpants to bed because you don’t see the point of spending money on clothes that are only made for you to sleep in - especially if they’re clothes that make you uncomfortable like these ones clearly do.” 

Although, I greatly despised the fact that there was even a little bit of a chance that I might’ve agreed with him, I still defended Grant. “It was a thoughtful gesture.”

“Thoughtful, right,” He scoffed. “And which head was he thinking with?” 

I was baffled he had the gall to say such an innuendo. “Spencer!”

How dare he? So what if Grant bought me something provocative because he was physically attracted to me? At least someone was. 

Despite the ferocity plain on his face, he chose not to pursue this conversation. Visibly biting back on words he knew would hurt me, Spencer managed to sound remarkably genuine when he promised me, “I won’t look if you don’t want me to.” 

I want you to, was my very first thought. Oh, God, that’s so fucked up, was my second. 

He underlined his sincerity by turning fully around until he was facing the window. “But we should probably put the sheets back on the bed if you plan on sleeping on it.”

He was so patient as he waited for me to remove the cloth from my body. It almost made me feel guilty. He didn’t grumble or gripe, nor did he pressure me to do it at all. So by rights, there should’ve been no reason for me to take so long to let the barrier fall - he wasn’t looking at me. But I was just so goddamn embarrassed. 

This wasn’t me, and even he knew that. 

“You can turn around now,” I mumbled quietly once my safety net of a bedsheet had abandoned me. My arms were crossed over my chest and my thighs were pressed so tightly against each other as if to limit the surface area that Spencer could scrutinize. 

That never came. 

He did look, I could tell that much. But it wasn’t a look I’d ever seen before. It wasn’t rage or annoyance or pity. It was a look of lust. 

A look that made me positively weak in the knees. A look far more sensual than even my racy garments. 

“I’ll just sleep in Morgan’s room tonight, okay?” He offered once he finally broke out of his incapacitation. Grabbing the two opposite corners of the sheets that I was holding, it was a team effort as we arranged the covers where they belonged. It was probably the longest period of time we’d ever worked together without fighting or talking at all for that matter..

Not a single word was exchanged between us while Spencer gathered his things to leave for Derek’s. The room started to feel dangerously empty in the stillness. 

When he slipped past me to make his way out, I caught his upper arm, successfully pulling him back around.

I could’ve been sweet, I should’ve. But that wasn’t our thing. So I settled for what came naturally to us and what would set off the least amount of red flags - I didn’t play nice. “As long as you promise not to hog the entire bed with your behemoth body, we can sleep together -” Catching the words as soon as they came out and what they could’ve implied, I began backtracking. “Sleep in the same bed. Sleep as in rest. Not sleep as in … anything else.” 

Then, in one of those rare moments- he laughed. He actually laughed. Like a real, hearty, sudden laugh. “I know what you meant, (y/n).” 

I’ll never forget the smile that followed the world’s greatest laugh either. 

Oh, God, I’m so fucked up. 

_ _ _

Spencer’s POV

Domesticated animals are smarter than we give them credit for. Studies have shown that pets can actually sense time; They know when it’s time for their owner to leave for the day and when they’ll be coming home, too. 

Animals aren’t dumb - and neither was I. 

Like a dog sniffing out their owner’s imminent absence in the home, I could tell (y/n) was leaving the hotel room for the night. If her current state wasn’t convincing enough, then her behavior throughout the entire day supported that theory just as well. 

Whether it was her phone, the clock on the wall, or her watch, she was evidently keeping a close eye on the time. She did it so often, though, that you would think she would just use simple deductions to figure out what time it was by estimating the time it was when she last checked, but nope. She rarely let more than a minute go by without monitoring the clock.

My suspicions didn’t end there. What’s more suggestive was the anxious fidgeting. She had her tells of anxiety - everyone does - but this was a level of stress I’d never seen her exhibit before, not even in the field. 

She kept cracking her knuckles, even when she’d exhausting all the popping noises she could from them. Her leg-bobbing was another big tell, too. I tend to sit on tables rather than in the chairs at said table, allowing me to feel the earthquake occurring on the precinct floor. Her leg was bouncing up and down so vigorously it was practically shaking the room. 

I would’ve asked her what she was so impatient about, but I feared I already knew the answer.

Grant.

And if I never heard that name roll off her tongue again, it would be too soon. 

That didn’t mean I couldn’t ask where she was going, though.

Pretending to read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I barely let my eyes venture far off the page when I loudly asked from the window seat, “So where are you going tonight, trouble?” 

The faintest sound of a chuckle erupted in the bathroom, most likely from the nickname I hadn’t let die yet. 

“Nunya,” was her ever-so mature answer. 

I didn’t want to give her the chance to say ‘nunya business’ like I knew she would, so I quickly interjected with a monotone, “How clever of you.” If she wanted to be a child about this, then so be it. 

“Let’s see. You brought your good heels out of your suitcase, which you only wear on special occasions. And you put on a different perfume than the one you usually use, so I’m assuming it’s new. ... If I didn’t know any better, trouble, I’d say you’re going on a date.” 

She peeked her head out of the bathroom doorway to say, “You’re creepy, you know that?” 

Seeing the small portion of her face that was embellished with a smile would’ve been enough if only I knew what dress she was hiding in behind that wall. I had yet to see that part of her ensemble, but if I had to guess, it would break my heart. 

“Just saying,” I casually lied while clearing my throat. 

“Well,” I heard her begin from within the bathroom. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Grant is meeting me tonight.” 

Kill me now.

“I thought Grant lived in D.C.” Not that that would change much if he was already here. 

“Yes, he does, but he’s driving all the way here to meet me. Seeee,” She drew out the word. “Would a serial killer do that?” 

I refrained from giving the obvious answer: Yes. 

“Well, I hope you don’t plan on bringing him back here. Otherwise, that’d be terribly awkward, don’t you think?” My allusion to the possibility that Grant would come back here to find me in her bed was borne from the intentions that were a complete contradiction to the words I’d just spoken. It, in fact, wouldn’t be terribly awkward. No, it would be fun. For me at least. 

I would have loved to have seen the look on his face, and the worry on hers as she tried to explain who I was and why I had any right to be in (y/n)’s gravity. 

The room went silent again while I stayed on the same page of my book and, unbeknownst to her, waited for her to enter the room. How long she was taking was starting to worry me, though. 

“Need any help in there?” I called out.

“Nope,” She said through a strained voice that proved she was indeed struggling with something. 

“Really?” I asked once more to give her another opportunity to lower her colossal pride. “Cause it sounds like you need help.” 

“Nope. I’m good.” Liar. 

I knew her too well. I counted down to the exact second when she finally scrambled to ask, “Can you help me zip up my dress?”

“Yyyup.” I’d already resigned to the fact that I would have to help her, bouncing happily off the bed when she finally admitted it and letting myself lose the page I was on as I tossed the book haphazardly behind me. 

I was forced to join her in the bathroom for it was already hard for her to humble herself enough to ask me for help, so she certainly couldn’t be expected to lower her pride again and walk out to a place more convenient for me. 

The first thing I noticed was that it was a space clearly not made for two. It was so cramped that I ended up right against her in order to fit. The second thing I noticed was how she made no movements to distance herself. She was so close to me that I could actually see the little hairs on the back of her neck standing up from where my breath ghosted on the area. The sterile smell of hotel bathrooms had been replaced by the flowery, aromatic scent of her new perfume, and my heart broke all over again. 

Using the back of my fingers, I cast a barely-there caress on her neck to stroke her hair out of the way to clear the path of the zipper. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up again. 

She liked that.

“So do I get to know where you’re going?” I reached for the zipper on the small of her back. “For safety purposes, of course.” 

“Aww, you looking out for me, Dr. Reid?” She teased in a seductive tone while gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail that for the shortest second recorded in time might’ve reminded me of a constantly recurring intrusive image. 

“Always, trouble.” 

The zipper fastened with absolutely no resistance all the way to the top. My eyes flashed to the mirror to catch her expression, which told me everything I needed to know. 

What a pretty little liar. She didn’t actually need my help. 

Comprehending that the realization dawned on me, she gave me what she knew would shut me up. “We’re going to The Rooftop at Lamont’s.” 

How effortlessly she slipped past me without a thank you or a glance in my direction served as a rude awakening.

“Well, you should take an umbrella with you. It looks like there’s gonna be a storm tonight.” This was my small way of coming to terms with the reality of the situation. 

“Eh,” She waved my suggestion off with a dismissive hand. “We’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t even think about stalking me!” She warned before exiting the room.

In the blink of an eye, she was gone - my peace of mind having left with her. 

_ _ _ 

The amount of sleep you need varies for each person and is affected by several factors. However, for most adults, 7–9 hours per night is the ideal amount. And I was slowly reducing that optimal quantity, hour by hour, until there was none left. 

I would continue to sacrifice my sleep so long as I was awake for her return. If she’d asked why I was still up, I would lie. Though I wouldn’t look half so pretty as she did when she lied. 

Losing rest seemed like such a small price to pay to make sure I was fully alert in the event that an emergency happened, even if I would suffer the consequences in the morning. But hey - that’s what caffeine is for, isn’t it? To re-energize oneself after staying up to guarantee one’s enemy’s safety. 

Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly why Kaldi invented coffee in 750 A.D. 

Besides the thunderstorm, my mind also made great company for situations like these. Granted, the visions it would project kept me up for a reason - they were all so awful. 

There was simply no projected reality where things would turn out alright. 

If she had the time of her life on her date, she would come back to throw it in my face that I’d been wrong, and her admiration for Grant would have deepened. 

Or if he stood her up, she’d be devastated, but instead of letting me console her, she’d push me away as easily as she always did.

In a more neutral instance, perhaps she would admit it wasn’t as great meeting him as she thought it would be and the relationship would fade out for innocent reasons. Even if that seemed like the most favorable circumstance, she would eventually grow to resent me for planting the seed of doubt in her head in the first place.

But nothing- nothing I could have imagined would be as treacherous as what actually happened.

At exactly 1:09 a.m, my phone started to ring. I can’t explain to you what it was, but I just knew - it was her calling, and it wasn’t even her number.

“(Y/n)? Is everything okay?” 

If she said something beforehand, I couldn’t hear her because the storm was too loud and her voice was too quiet. “Did I wake you up?” 

I reassured her with a tone I didn’t even recognize. “No, no. I was awake. Why? What’s up?” The line went quiet again, forcing me to prompt her to speak in order to find out if she was still there on the call. “(Y/n)?”

“Spencer ...” She choked out a hoarse sob. “I need you. I need you to come get me, please.” 

My eyes clenched shut at the dreadful sound of her sorrow, and I jolted into action. After scrambling to gather the keys to her car that she’d left behind, I fled the room faster than ever before. 

“I’m on my way, (y/n). Stay right there. You’re at The Rooftop at Lamont’s right?” 

The poor thing took the longest pause in history, either from shame or disorientation. “He threw me in the back of his car and drove me all the way to D.C. I …” Her breath caught on her dry throat again. “I, um, I managed to escape and now I’ve barricaded myself in a payphone booth. I haven’t called the police yet. You were the first person I thought to call. I just, I just needed to hear your voice.”

My knuckles turned an unfamiliar shade of white when I gripped the steering wheel, picturing her caged up in a rectangular box, dialing my number instead of 911 just so she could hear my voice.

“Everything is gonna be okay. I promise you. My ETA is 1:28. That’s in 19 minutes. Are you okay being there for that long or do you want to find somewhere safer?”

I could no longer distinguish the difference between talking to her right now and talking to a victim in distress. I was speaking with the same tone and inflection but feeling a sharp pain in my chest that wasn’t there before. 

“I can stay here. Just ... don’t hang up, okay?” The fact that the possibility of me abandoning her over the phone even crossed her mind was more than enough to get me to drive well over the speed limit. 

The list of traffic infractions only grew from there because honestly? Screw my safety or anyone else’s. Her’s was the only one that mattered. She was the priority. 

She was my priority. 

Throughout the entire call, I kept repeating, “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Frankly, it was something we both needed to hear. 

It was both the fastest and slowest 19 minutes of my life. Time no longer felt real when I finally found the payphone booth that boxed in my troublesome girl. No sooner did I drive up to the sidewalk than I ran out of the car to sprint the short distance to free her from her coop.

“(Y/n)!” I shouted, swinging the door open and throwing caution to the wind in the process. Immediately, she dropped the phone, not even bothering to replace it onto its receiver. 

The pouring rain had stripped her of her dignity. Mascara ran down her face in pigmented streams of black. Her curled hair was dampened into strings. But worse of all, it hadn’t washed away the darkening bruises on her skin.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She cried as she ran into my open arms. 

Her body collided with mine in such a gentle manner that I had to wonder how that was possible at all or if it was a figment of my imagination. Was our collision actually that gentle or did it seem that way because of how good it felt to have her arms and legs latch around my entire torso, crossing and connecting somewhere in between?

With one arm under her thighs to hold her up, I pulled her impossibly closer to me by cradling the back of her head with the other hand. 

Her small hands found their way into my hair, a new sensation I tried not to indulge in so as not to let my attention stray away from the little life I was holding in my arms. 

She was so cold. 

Shivering from my warm embrace, her teeth chattered as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Spencer. You were right I should’ve listened -”

“Shh, it’s okay, (y/n),” I said with the hopes that I could make the pounding heart that was thumping against my shoulder settle down until it reached her standard heart rate of 67 beats per minute. 

After a second of just holding her wordlessly, she spoke again. 

“I don’t wanna fight.” She surrendered so easily to me that I could hardly believe this was her at all. 

“I don’t wanna fight with you either.” 

That was entirely true. Fighting with her was the last thing on my mind. The first was getting her into my car. 

It was easier that I imagined it would be, but then again, it’s easy to do things when you’re motivated in this way. 

Before I loosened my hold on her to shut the passenger door, she squeezed me a little tighter, as if to be absolutely certain this was real and not some cruel dream.

“Thank you,” She hummed into the crook of my neck. From where her shoulder was digging into my throat, I couldn’t exactly respond verbally, so I settled for rubbing my hand up and down her back comfortingly. 

“Let’s take you home,” I basically said to myself seeing as it was too quiet to be discernible. 

“No,” She shook her head rapidly. “Take me to your apartment.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go back to the hotel right now. I need to be somewhere I feel safe.”

My apartment is closer than the hotel, I reasoned, pretending it was the logic of it that made my heart swell and not the statement I would fixate on for the entire duration of the ride there. 

I need to be somewhere I feel safe. 

And that’s wherever I’m with you.

_ _ _ 

Reader’s POV

Porcelain wall tiles gleamed back at me, mocking my wretched misery. They were much prettier than me, but then again, anything else would be prettier than me right about now.

I certainly wasn’t the belle of the ball in my bare naked state. The fact that I was sitting in a pool of my own washed off dried blood didn’t help either.

I would’ve looked away from the bright white walls, but where else were I to look? Into the pair of eyes that I was deliberately avoiding? The ones that were staring a hole through me right now? No. I couldn’t bear to meet those eyes. So I kept looking forward at the mean walls - those mean, mocking walls.

“Is the water warm enough?” He asked, dipping a finger into the bathwater to test it himself. 

I watched as his hand snuck into the tub and swirled around some water, causing soap bubbles to revitalize. 

For a reason I didn’t know nor could remember at this given moment, Spencer drove me to his apartment. That memory of why I was here was fuzzy, but the rest following my arrival was more vivid. Perhaps because it was all unfolding right now.

“I think I should go,” I murmured. The bathwater had gone cold, and the silence was too deafening. If I didn’t leave now, then I would be trapped forever. 

I leaned forward with my knees still pressed to my chest to protect my modesty while I tugged on the silver drain plug of the tub to release the suction.

“You can’t go home. You’ll be alone again, and who will be there to help you that time?” 

“I don’t need anybody’s help.” I responded curtly. 

“Then why did you call me tonight?”

“Why did you answer?” 

He was stunned by how I didn’t miss a beat with my question, stunned enough to purse his lips in contempt. “Should I have declined your call then? Said ‘no’ instead and let you fend for yourself? You know what - my bad, (y/n). I sincerely apologize that I care about you.” 

I scoffed at his factiousness. “No, what you should’ve done is whatever the hell you wanted to do. But clearly, since you said ‘yes’ and came to my rescue like I’m some victim in a case - you wanted to be there. I could chalk that up to you having a hero complex, but I think it’s time for you to admit you just wanted to see me at my worst so you could throw it in my face like you’re doing right now.”

He clenched his jaw in fury, muttering under his breath, “I should’ve left you in that booth.” 

This crossed a line, but I was just as ready to cross it, too. 

“But I bet you liked saving me. Seeing me as a damsel in distress that you could white knight. You like that, Spence? Does my weakness settle your deep rooted fear of inadequacy in strength?”

Shouldn’t have done that. 

For a second there, I was sincerely scared of the response I might’ve just elicited, so I shot up from the tub and grabbed the towel on the rack, quickly wrapping myself in it and avoiding Spencer’s gaze the entire way out of the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Judging from the loudness of his voice, he was right on my heels, following me close behind. 

“You’re smart. Figure it out.” 

“God, why do you have to be such a pain in the ass? I don’t want to leave you like this.” It never failed to amaze me how he could both show disdain and concern for me in the matter of a sentence. 

“Well, you’re not leaving me like this - I’m leaving you like this.” My clever remark angered him more.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, Spencer called out from the end of his hallway, “What are you so scared of?” 

Reaching the end of my rapidly fraying rope, I spun around to throw my arms out to my side in just the same defensive manner as he did. “Nothing! Maybe I just don’t wanna be stuck in the apartment of the man who hates me! Can you blame me?” 

He ran a hasty hand through his hair, pulling at the strands out of pure irritation. “Why do you keep saying I hate you? How can any of what I’ve done for you tonight suggest that?”

He’d chosen his words carefully and for that, he was smart. His inclusivity of the word ‘tonight’ meant I could only reference his actions from the past few hours, which wouldn’t help my case, as opposed to the months and months that he’d given me the cold shoulder, which would have helped my case. But again, he was smart - he had me in a deadlock. I couldn’t accept defeat, but what could I possibly argue against his point? 

My body literally shook from the power of the deep groan that tore through my chest. “God, what do you want from me, Spencer?” I wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from him, but my body was resisting all those urges. Lunging forward, I pointed the sternest index finger at him, staring the most unforgiving glare into his soul. “Tell me - tell me what you want! Because when I was nice to you, you-you treated me like shit. And then when I stopped being nice to you, you still treated me like shit. So what -” I had to laugh to alleviate the sheer rage I was feeling. “What the fuck do you want from me? Because it’s like no matter what I do, it’s just not good enough for you!”

His eyebrows had furrowed and his eyes softened. He didn’t look angry whatsoever. No, he looked hurt. 

“Not good enough for me?” He leaned down to my level to look right into my eyes. “You are everything … everything to me.”

With one last breath, I cried out in anguish, “Then why? Why do you hate me so much?” 

He gulped back the lump in his throat - the last barrier that kept him from telling the truth. 

“I ... I never hated you. I just need to be in control of my thoughts and feelings at all times, otherwise, I feel-I feel like I’m going crazy. Like I’m on the verge of a psychotic break that I’m genetically predisposed to have. But when you came around - I lost all my control. You were inhabiting my dreams, you were stealing my sleep, occupying more and more space in my brain until there was no more room left to take. God, I think about you all the time, and I literally cannot physically stop it. I have no control anymore,” and somehow him saying that sounded something like an ‘I love you.’ 

“The only thing I could control was how I treated you. I thought being awful to you would get you to despise me enough to make me despise you, too, and while it was easier to be angry at you, it was so much worse having you hate me.”

“I never hated you, Spencer.” Never. 

“You should have,” He rasped. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I wish to spend every day proving that I want you. Oh, I want you so bad,” He sharply inhaled through gritted teeth, and I unconsciously laughed in return. His pain wasn’t funny in the least. What was amusing was knowing that he had the same excruciating longing for me that I had for him. 

“I don’t want control anymore if it means I can’t have you.”

He leaned in so carefully that I almost didn't register the movement at all. Our hearts were pounding to the same synchronized beat. We were the shore and the tide one in the same. Our breaths would draw in and out, in and out, as he held my face so gently. We were still the shore and the tide, but more than anything we were drowning in the ocean of ourselves. The rising waters of his admiration threatened to flood every empty nook and cranny of the room until it swallowed me whole. All I could feel was him, everywhere, filling absolutely everything. 

“Wow ... I finally got you speechless,” The cocky bastard hummed happily, letting his words vibrate on the smallest part of my lip.

“Oh, shut up,” I declared through a smirk I needed to fight off before finally closing that nearly imperceptible gap between us. 

All the forces in the world couldn’t tear us apart after we connected. They were no match for the force Spencer’s hands had as they pulled me impossibly closer. The pressure might’ve even been unbearable had it not been for the velvety pair of lips giving me back all the oxygen it stole from my lungs just seconds ago. They were so soft, like freshly washed sheets, like biting into cotton candy, like floating for the first time, feeling utterly weightless in water. It’s sweet, it’s so effortlessly sweet. 

Not nearly as sweet as the words that followed our parting. 

“Not enough for me?” He repeated, recalling my previous claim. “You’ve had me since the day you walked in, trouble.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

fingers crossed this fic doesn’t flop!

complete taglist: @muffin-cup @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person @masumiyetimziyanoldu @dreamer-writer-fangirl @kalamitykait @jinxy175 @apolloroid 

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#spencer reid #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid kiss #fighting fire with fire #juniorgman187 #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[2996-sana]

Seeking Arrangement - Rosé

Part 1

The pitter patter of the rain served as background noise for Y/N and Lisa who was sat on their couch munching on some cucumbers, eyes glued to the Kdrama playing on the TV. Y/N let out a dramatic sigh as she watches Ko Moonyoung and Moon Gangtae lock lips for the first time. The sound was not lost on her best friend who shot her a grin.

“Are you going all soft again, Y/N?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the teasing tone in Lisa’s voice. This was not new as she was always on the receiving end of Lisa’s jokes about her being such a hopeless romantic. Though Lisa found this amusing about her best friend, she thinks there is strength in Y/N’s ability to believe in love after the shit her ex-girlfriend Suzy put her through. Could you really blame her? Being in love was without a doubt one of the best feelings in the world in Y/N’s book. For her, it was an overwhelming yet warm feeling that stretches throughout your whole body once it enters your life and leaves you feeling like you’re on top of the world (but its all fun and games until your partner cheats on you).

Despite this though, she was not in a hurry to find love. In fact, after the tragedy that was her last relationship, she just wanted to lie low and have fun for a while.

“Shut up. You’re lucky you’re in a stable relationship,” Y/N scoffs.

Lisa and her girlfriend Jennie have been together for 2 years now (3 years next month) and Y/N envied the love shared between the two.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. No one can resist you for too long,” Lisa tries to reassure her best friend, wrapping an arm around her.

Y/N grimaced, “Eh…I don’t really want anything serious at the moment. Especially after Suzy.”

Lisa pretends to gag at the sound of Y/N’s ex-girlfriend’s name, “I agree. Have fun and take it easy. You should like…I don’t know…find a sugar daddy or something.” They both chuckle at Lisa’s words, knowing she would never even think about it.

•

It was hours later on her bed while typing out a reply to some guy she matched on Tinder that she realizes how hard it was to find a worthy candidate to waste her time on. These boys lacked substance and were coming at her with the same pick-up lines. She wonders if they all got them at the same Fuckboy Convention. It didn’t help that she rarely matched with girls either.

She groans at the reply that came through.

Wyd tho? U tryna fuck?

“The audacity of these boys,” she mutters under her breath, closing the app.

As she stares at her ceiling zoning out, she remembers Lisa’s words from hours ago. A sugar daddy. She laughs at her best friend’s ridiculous idea. She could never.

Unless? No. It’s stupid. She doesn’t wanna give out any sugar AT ALL.

But she was bored out of her mind. For the past 3 months, she has been cooped up in her bed wallowing in self-pity while listening to the very suspicious sounds coming out of Lisa’s room. There were also only so many pep-talks she could give herself until she grew tired of her own words. It was this that fueled her to sit up and turn on her laptop. After all, she considered boredom as an invitation for her to find something that would raise her serotonin levels. And what is the value of life without a little fun? She owed herself the first few months of her breakup to relax and take care of herself after all the mental damage, but now she needed a little play. She needed both the loud and quiet joys of life, peace with a little bit of wild mixed in. It was needed to feed her soul.

She also couldn’t lie that she craved some sort of human connection and validation. Yeah, she definitely was not proud of that last one.

Y/N stared at the keyboard, not believing what she was able to type into Google.

How to find a sugar daddy?

What she found out during her deep dive in the wondrous world of sugar daddies and babies was the number one site to find one was called Seeking Arrangement.  

So that is where she found herself, blinking at the statement written in bold.

100% Free to Join!

To hell with it, she thinks as she begins to fill out the application.

30 minutes later, she nods in approval as she scanned through the photos she chose. She would totally hit herself up if she was a sad middle-aged man desperate for companionship. As she hits submit, she was met with pictures of men – and surprisingly women, although there were considerably more men – complete with their basic information.

Looking for a woman to spoil.

Looking for love.

Looking for a loving companion.

Looking for a good time.

It was nothing she didn’t expect to find at a sugar baby site but it was the net worth of the men and women displayed on her screen that caught her eye. She was almost tempted to message one of them but couldn’t find it in herself to do so. She rolls her eyes at the thought.

She spent hours researching and signing up for a sugar baby website and she still finds herself being stubborn about making the first move.

Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was almost 4AM. She decides that she was going to wait for someone to message her first instead. Besides it gives off the vibe that she’s hard to get and that’s always a little bit sexy, right?

•

"Y/N! Wake up! I made banana pancakes.”

Slowly opening her eyes and stretching, her foot meets a hard surface. The cold metallic feeling on her foot was enough to remind her of her antics 7 hours ago. She hides her face on her hands, sighing. Why did she think that was a good idea?

Once she was out of her room, she was met with the sweet smell of banana pancakes and nutella. She dragged herself to where the smell was most present and found herself in the kitchen where both Lisa and Jennie sat on the counter. Jennie threw a gummy smile her way while her best friend simply nodded at her presence, busy stuffing herself with her girlfriend’s banana pancakes.

“Vas happenin’, love birds?” she greets them with a faux British accent.

“What kind of dollar store Zayn Malik am I hearing right now?” came Lisa’s reply to which Y/N’s response was to smear Nutella all over her best friend’s face.

“Yah, Y/N!” Lisa whines as she hits Y/N on the shoulder.

Y/N gasps as she prepares to retaliate.

“Children! Stop it.” Jennie scolds the two. She was used to the duo’s playful fighting but she also knew it could go on for hours if she doesn’t put a stop to it.

Both were quick to stop but stuck their tongues out at each other.

Y/N grabbed her plate to return to her room. She glanced at the couple making sure they were preoccupied enough not to notice what she was up to.

You have 11 unopened messages!

A loose grin formed on her face at the notification. Not bad. She hurriedly opened her inbox to find the different men who deemed her worthy to reach out to.

It was all pretty tame, it being the typical greeting. She sighed, already bored. It wasn’t until she reached the bottom of her inbox where a small gasp came out of her. She sat up and read the sender’s name.

Rosé Park. A woman.

She excitedly clicked on the woman’s profile.

It only took the woman’s profile picture for Y/N to realize that this Rosé Park was the type of woman she fantasized about. For starters, she was a brunette and the woman was a blonde. She was a sucker for blondes. Who could resist a good brunette and blonde wlw duo?

Santana and Brittany. Rose and Rosie. Clarke and Lexa. Piper and Alex. Need she say more?

Basically, Rosé Park was a dreamboat. Something radiated from her pictures that Y/N knew rendered her irresistible to both men and women. She could outshine any of these men on the site any day. It also only took her profile picture to realize that the woman was a big deal. Her outfit looked straight out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Why would gorgeous and rich 25-year old Rosé Park want to talk to a normal and boring 23-year old like her?

Y/N composed herself, fighting back a smile, before returning to her and Rosé’s chat.

Hi, gorgeous. I passed by your profile and knew I had to talk to you. Looking forward to your response x

Y/N’s blush seared through her cheeks and for a minute she thought her face was on fire. She suddenly felt awkward, demure, and coy; even going as far as attempting to hide her rosy features behind her slim fingers even if no one else was around to see her. She blames it on the fact that an insanely beautiful woman complimented her. So naturally, it took her at least 5 minutes of over-analyzing every possible response for her to actually send one.

Hi there :) You’re one to talk. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

To her surprise, three little dots indicating Rosé was typing appeared beside the woman’s picture.

Haha, cute.

Hmm what brings you to this site, Y/N?

The woman’s question made her pause. She doesn’t even know the answer to that. Was she supposed to make some shit up?

Um I was bored.

She facepalms herself as she hit send. Really? Your brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to come up with a more interesting response, Y/N?

Y/N thought she blew it as 45 minutes has passed and no response from the blonde bombshell came. She internally cursed herself for her boring response to the woman. Rosé probably thought she was an airhead.

•

It was 10PM after binge watching another Kdrama with Jennie and Lisa that she remembered being left on delivered by Rosé. Her mood quickly sours as she realizes she ruined her chance at getting to know the beautiful woman. Thinking to distract herself with the depressing fact, she goes to check if any of the men messaged her back. Sure, a man could never fill the void of a woman but she really needed to talk to another human being besides Lisa and Jennie.

Y/N was apparently in for a surprise because what awaited her was a message from the woman.

Well, I hope to provide some sort of entertainment for you ;)

I’m not one to beat around the bush Y/N. I think you’re stunning and a good lay in bed. That’s a really good source of entertainment for the both of us, no?

Jesus Christ. She was not expecting that.

Y/N knew what being a sugar baby entailed but she was still brought to a shock at how blunt Rosé was being and so early on into the conversation. The thought of being with Rosé like that, being able to feel her skin against hers, the godly sounds that it would elicit…

Her private thoughts made herself blush. It seems like if there was anything Rosé was good at it was making Y/N blush. But her unholy thoughts about the woman didn’t create a cute soft pink tint on her cheek like a healthy outdoors glow, it was beet red. Y/N figured that Rosé was probably highly practiced at the art of seduction. Rosé’s looks although a masterpiece sculpted by all the deities that exist… well, nothing so pretty could possibly harm you, right? But it was that combined with Rosé’s choice of words that had anyone she chose to even focus her attention on jumping through hoops to please her. So, she swallowed her pride and forced herself to play it cool, putting on a mask that she thought would appease the woman she really wanted to impress.

I like the way you think, Rosé. I like to think I make great company in bed too ;) Give me a time and place and I’ll be there.

•

That message was what lead Y/N to the 21st floor of Seoul Forest Trimage Towers, one of Seoul’s most luxurious and exclusive apartment complex, standing outside of Rosé’s penthouse two days later.

All the reasons not to go through with it and just leave came flooding in. Y/N can feel the soft panic growing inside her body as she wills herself to breathe in and out, not quite ready to ring the doorbell just yet. But before she could finish her fourth exhale, the door was opened to reveal the woman who has not left her mind ever since signing up for that damned site.

“I grew tired of watching you hyperventilate so I thought I’d do you a favor and open the door for you.”

Y/N almost choked on air as she looks at Rosé for the first time. The pictures on her profile did not do her justice at all. The woman could have graced every billboard or magazine in the city and she wouldn’t even question it.

Y/N did not say anything - did not know what to say. She was conscious of the smirking woman standing before her, dressed in a white dress that stopped just above her knees.

“Do you wanna come in, Y/N?” Rosé’s voice was dripping with amusement, eyebrows raised. Shyness wasn’t usually Y/N’s gig so what the hell was going on?

“Yeah, sure.”

Once she entered the threshold that Rosé called home, she immediately noticed how fancy and expensive everything was. She was immediately drawn to the large window overlooking the whole city. The glass was so clear that it looked like a high definition screen at the movie theatre.

Rosé quickly picked up on her fascination, grabbing hold of Y/N’s hand and leading her to the glass window. “Cool, huh? I picked this unit because of the view. The city below is so far away it's like another world. This penthouse is my cocoon and the window, well, the window shows me as much detail as I want to know.”

Y/N could only stare at their joined hands and then to the woman beside her, intoxicated by her words. “It’s beautiful, Rosé. I’d kill to wake up to this every way. You have great taste.”

“Yeah I do have great taste huh?” Rosé looked her up and down, biting her lip before chuckling. (Y/N swears she saw the gates of heaven open at the sound)  

•

A few hours later after a candle lit dinner prepared by Rosé herself and a bottle of wine, Y/N finds herself straddled in the living room couch being kissed roughly on the neck as pure pleasure runs through her entire body.

“Fuck,” she pants as she feels Rosé grind on her. Unable to control herself anymore, Y/N holds Rosé’s head in her hands and pulls her into a fiery and passionate kiss.

“Someone couldn’t wait,” Rosé smiled against their lips.

With a laugh, Y/N pushed Rosé down on the couch, switching their positions, not breaking the kiss. Y/N’s hands slowly work their way around her body, tugging on Rosé’s dress.

“Off.”

Rosé sat up slightly, allowing Y/N to pull down the zipper of her dress, feeling skilled fingers unhook her bra. Rosé tears it off herself before reattaching their lips. Immediately, Y/N’s hands found itself on Rosé’s breasts as she tugged on her nipples.

Rosé gasps against her lips causing Y/N to pull away, making her way down and sucking on the skin surrounding Rosé’s breasts before soothing it out with her tongue.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I’m not complaining,” Rosé giggles but whimpers midway as she feels Y/N’s tongue latch onto her nipple.

“Probably the wine.”

Y/N couldn’t help but think that their bodies fit together as if they were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm.

Y/N’s hands drop to Rosé’s thighs, caressing her from above her panties. Rosé moans at the feeling of the soft silk rubbing against her as Y/N’s mouth still busied herself with her nipple.

“Oh my god.”

Rosé grips her hand tightly onto Y/N’s hair as she feels the wetness between her legs. “Take your clothes off. I wanna see you.”

Y/N stops devouring her nipple to pull her shirt off. Rosé drops her hands to the zipper of Y/N’s jeans pulling it down and slipping her own hand in.

“Good to know I’m not the only one dripping wet,” she teases.

Before she could begin her sweet torture on Y/N, she feels hands finally moving inside her panties and her mind went blank.

Fingers toyed with her nub making Rosé bite down on Y/N’s shoulder. Thumb continuing to rub Rosé’s nub, Y/N slipped two fingers in. Rosé moaned so loud that Y/N swears it was enough to get her off.

Pumping her fingers around Rosé, Y/N felt a smirk making its way on her face. She couldn’t believe she was on top of the godly woman seeing her face all scrunched up in ecstasy. She feels Rosé pulling her in for another heated kiss as she picks up her pace inside the woman. With every moan and whimper coming out of Rosé’s mouth, Y/N feels her own wetness.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Y/N mutters under her breath.

She could feel Rosé getting close as the woman’s grinding on her fingers became sloppier and her breaths became more uneven. Burying her face on Y/N’s shoulder, Rosé tries to stifle her moans as she finally comes undone.

Y/N slowly leaves feathery kisses up and down Rosé’s neck as she waits for her to come down from her high.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” she hears Rosé trying to catch her breath. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you to take charge tonight.”

“Maybe I’m just full of surprises,” Y/N grinned, pressing a kiss on Rosé’s temple.

Rosé slowly sat up as Y/N leaves her place on top of her. “I guess you are.”

They both sat in silence as they picked up their clothes scattered on the floor before putting them back on. Rosé was the first one to break the ice as she reaches for her purse on the wooden table. It was at that moment Y/N remembered why she was even there in the first place. Disappointment stabbed through her like a knife. Somehow during the duration of the night, she made herself forget that she was there because of an agreement made online. As if she was there spending the night with a new lover, both milking the feeling of a love that just arrived. The night started out like a sweet melody of a blackbird -- full of promise, freshness, and newness to come. Now it sat like a cold cup of coffee waiting to be drained away. All of a sudden, she felt dirty and used and all she had to blame was herself. Rosé’s words from a few hours ago during dinner echoed through her head.

I signed up because I have no time for relationships. I’m just too busy for that. It saves me the hassle of meeting new people and having to get to know them, y’know?

And truthfully, no, Y/N didn’t know. She remembers Lisa telling her she loves like a puppy - devoted, playful, and trusting. So, no, Y/N didn’t know. She just didn’t roll the way Rosé rolled.

“Here you go,” Rosé reached out with a wad of cash in her hand. “Go treat yourself. You deserve it.”

It was the way Rosé said it, so confident and smug, that Y/N knew that she was not Rosé’s first rodeo. The woman sounded like she does it so often that she just didn’t care anymore.

“How many girls receive this same amount of cash?” Y/N laughs quietly and she hopes it didn’t sound as bitter as she felt.

“A couple a week,” Rosé grins so nonchalantly it makes Y/N stomach churn. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Y/N awkwardly shifts in her place on the couch. “Um, you really don’t need to. I’m not looking for cash.”

Rosé actually looked shocked at the girl’s statement. “I’m a little bit lost here.”

“I signed up because I was bored and curious not because I’m low on money,” she laughs keeping an unamused tone. “I really didn’t expect to reach this far ahead. So, you can keep your money Rosé.”

Y/N got up and started walking towards the door. She was halfway there when she felt Rosé grab her wrist.

“Why do you sound angry? Don’t act as if you didn’t know why I invited you here, Y/N.” Rosé looked at her confused. “We met through Seeking Arrangements for god’s sake. I thought we had a good time.”

Rosé did have a good time. Aside from the mind-blowing sex, she was impressed by Y/N’s ability to be present during a conversation, always having her own two cents to offer, which lead to a lot of fun and meaningful discourse all throughout dinner. She had never met a woman through that website as enchanting and beautiful as Y/N. Y/N was a smart woman who was good at sex and Rosé liked that. A lot. So why is she being difficult?

Rosé saw different emotions flash through Y/N’s face before settling on a look of defeat. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I did have a good time.”

Y/N stepped closer to Rosé. “I loved being here with you and money was never on my mind tonight. Maybe that’s why I reacted that way. I’m sorry. I joined Seeking Arrangements for fun because honestly…I was lonely and bored and looking for some sort of human connection and that’s what you gave me tonight. I just got lucky that you reached out. That was all I needed I promise.”

She offers Rosé a genuine smile before turning to leave once more. “Have a good rest of your night, Rosé.”

Y/N hears footsteps behind her as Rosé opens the door for her, a smile planted on her face. “You’re something else, Y/N.”

Before the door closes, Rosé speaks once more. “It’s Rosie now by the way.”

The last thing she saw was the woman throwing her a wink before the door finally closed.

#blackpink #blackpink x reader #blackpink imagine #rosé x reader #rosé imagine #blackpink scenarios

[matildaofoz]

The Invisible Itch Pt. 2 (Demon!Michael x Reader)

Summary: Michael introduces himself after last night and you find yourself on the short end of the proverbial stick by your own doing, no less. Demons don't play nice and Michael puts you firmly into place.

A/N: This is a little interlude to the next part of this series, no smut just yet I'm afraid but plenty of dominant Demon!Michael. He's so much fun to write and the back-and-forth between him and the reader are some of my favourites.

Warnings: Cursing, Power-Play, minor violence and hurt (reader-receiving), mentions of smut

Word Count: 2.4k

Tag List: @prophecy-is-inevitable​ @jimmlangdon​ @drasangel​ @leatherduncan​ @sexwon131​ @rocketgirl2410​ @9layerdevilfoodcake​ @vulgarprayer​ @michaellangdonstanaccount​ @michaellandgons-sunshine​ @iwillboilyourteeth​ @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul​, @kitty4860​

After you'd awoken the night after an encounter you couldn't begin to make sense of, you had quite literally grabbed whatever your hands could reach out the wardrobe and sprinted out the door, not daring to even enter the bathroom. You felt whatever, whoever had introduced himself the night before lingering in the place you called your home and that knot in your stomach wound tighter as the day went on. You were going insane. Surely,  for the truth of the matter meant that there were forces in this world - and apparently in your apartment  - that you couldn't fathom.

You needed answers and so you began to scour the Internet, not caring if your work search history took a weird turn. You still felt his fingers between your legs, his teeth on your shoulder and his grip on your hip. God, the way he had pleasured you was unlike anything you'd ever felt. You tried to shake the lustful thoughts flitting through your mind, the image of him standing before you burned into your retinas.

Demon. That word kept popping up on the websites and subreddits you found and you swore you felt those strong hands on you again as you read page after page of first person accounts with the supernatural. The more you read, the more you became alarmed, mentions of people having unwittingly sold their soul to the devil himself despite not believing in these kinds of things. If this was any other time, you would have scoffed at the idiotic posts. And yet here you were, baring the bruises of something you couldn't explain. The work day drew to a close far too soon, the day feeling like you spent it in a daze, a thick fog hanging over your mind, visions of him clouding your senses. Maybe you had sold your soul, given it to that man, that demon. That would explain the haze you walked through,  that ache between your legs.

"Hey (Y/N), you alright? Anything going on, you didn't seem right today," Cindy from accounting said as you both stepped into the elevator.  

"Hm? Oh yeah sorry, I'm just tired I think ," you replied with a little embarrassed smile several seconds after she had turned to address you as the doors slid shut. She mustered you, taking in the slight dark circles under your eyes, apparent because you hadn't even bothered to put on any make up. You forced a smile, not feeling up to any small talk.

"Heard Kevin's been bragging about you two going down to his lake house this weekend. Please tell me that's not true, " she continued and you were glad she didn't mention your appreance.

"He did what?!" you shrieked, now suddenly rattled into the present by her statement.

"Thought as much," Cindy replied, a small chuckle on her lips. You two didn't get to speak often but she was one of the few people in the office who showed her disdain for your manager and his creepy ways openly.

"This is turning out to be an even worse day than it already is," you groaned, making Cindy snicker beside you.

"Just be careful, I know he's all bark and no bite but you wouldn't want to get yourself in any situation," she said, patting you lightly on the shoulder as the elevator doors slid open to reveal the underground parking lot.

"Yeah, definitely won't do that. Thanks for the heads up," you called after her as she stepped out to head to her car, waving at you without turning around. You liked Cindy and her no-nonsense attitude. Too bad you were already in a situation of the supernatural kind. You'd kick Kevin's balls any day if he tried anything. The demon in your flat however was an entirely different beast to tame. If that was even a possibility.

You sat in your car outside your apartment building for a good 10 minutes, looking up at the dark windows, debating on whether or not you wanted to spend the night  there. What had gotten into you, a tiny voice in the back of your mind berated you. You weren't scared of horror movies or graveyards, you laughed your way though haunted houses you and your friends went to on Halloween and yet the thought of stepping foot into your safe space suddenly filled you with dread. You could explain all those things away by good editing, special effects and makeup. A real-life demon on the other hand...With a huff you swung open the car door and stepped out into the chilly movember air and headed for the entrance. As you passed under the streetlights,  you swore you could feel those eyes of his on you, watching from above.

The lock clicked, unlatching the door. You entered, expecting to come face to face with him and yet you were greeted by silence. You ventured into the kitchen, switching on the lights, back rigged. Empty. Next you headed for the bathroom. It looked as if you'd never even took a bath last night, no wine bottle, no glass on the floor, no water puddles on the ground. Slowly but surely you were beginning to think that you'd had a very vivid dream, one that would definetely warranted a visit to your pyschologist, and somehow managed to bump your hip and scratch your shoulder. It made no sense. You knew you were being watched as you stepped out the car. God, maybe you were finally at your breaking point,  brought around by nothing in particular, you just simply snapped.

You ventured into your bedroom to change out of your clothes. The note...was gone. You swore you'd left in laying on your covers. After several minutes of franticall searching under the covers and around the bed, you gave up. Maybe your breakup was fianlly catching up with you in an unusual way or maybe it was the loneliness. Whatever it was, all that remained of last night were the bruises. You changed into an oversized t-shirt and some cotton shorts, examining the blueish imprints on your hips. Perhaps you had gotten so drunk last night that you'd simply not remembered hitting your hip and this morning, still drunk your brain had conjured up the note just as it has the demon that fucked you raw in the bathtub last night.

Having let your guard down at finding nothing out of the ordinary, you padded into the living room, your phone in hand that was currently reinstalling tinder. Might as well get back in the game if I'm dreaming up hot demon bathtub sex, you thought to yourself.

You switched on the light, revealing the demon from last night perched lazily on the sofa,  looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"MOTHERFUCKER!" you screamed, dropping your phone. So much for not being scared.

"Good evening to you too, (Y/N)" he chuckled, taking in your frightened expression, those pretty (Y/E/C) eyes of yours ripped wide open.

"What are YOU doing here?" you hissed, trying to calm your heart that was currently in overdrive. He wasn't real, he wasn't supposed to be real.

"What do you mean what am I doing here. Didn't we assess last night that this is my domain? I should be asking you that question, Angel," he retorted, that grin of his widening into a dashing smile, his awsner punctuated by a wink that shouldn't have the effect it had on you.

"S-so this, last night, this was all real?" you whispered with your hands gesturing around you, disbelief in your voice and realisation flitting over your face.

"Oh it was real. A demon fucking that sweet little cunt of yours. Very real and very enjoyable I might add," he rumbled, hia brazen words making your cheeks flush. You stood in the door flabbergasted.

"I'm Michael by the way. I didn't get to introduce myself properly last night since you passed out. Not to worry,  I take it as a compliment of my expertise," he winked once more.

You watched him as he revealed why you couldn't remember getting out the tub or falling asleep. So he was a demon. A spawn of satan. Your mind went back to all the things you'd read earlier about his kind, that knot in your stomach suddenly coiling in on itself.

"Did I sell my soul to you last night?!" The words spilled over your lips, your (Y/E/C) gaze shooting daggers at the demon who looked more bemused by the second, taking in your flustered appearance. He hadn't expected you to be so straightforward.

"No, you'd know if you did," he smirked, tapping his chin, a cocky smile on his lips as he watched you deflate slightly. You didn't dare breathe a sigh of relief yet.

"This is like if you're a cop, you have to tell me. You can't lie, you can twist the truth but you can't outright lie," you responded, not satisfied by his half answer.

"Oh, we've been hitting the books at work today? Smart girl," he chuckled. You hadn't done nearly enough research to know the pile of proverbial shit you had landed in unknowingly, but you had done enough between work meetings and over your lunch break to know that a demon was bound by whatever force held them to this plane that made it impossible for them to lie if called upon directly. Your hands clenched by your sides, waiting for his reply. He groaned at your resoluteness. You were a lot smarter than you knew and he was growing impatient with the incessant line of questioning. Usually it was him with one hand on the lever.

"Sweet (Y/N)," he inhaled deeply. "You didn't sell your soul to me last night. It's still firmly sat behind your ribcage, all yours. I'd swear on my heart if I had one. I do have integrity, you know. Are you satisfied now?" He sneered, watching your face as he waited for your reply, one eyebrow cocked expectantly, a hint of offense on his features. You sighed in relief at his statement.

"Thank God," you breathed. At least some of what you'd found on various internet sites and reddit threads seemed to be true. At the name, Michael's eyes darkened and he stood up to his full height from the sofa. Your spine straightened as he approached you, his demeanour growing even sourer.

"Don't mention him in my presence," he rumbled, coming to stand before you, the tips of his pristine parent leather boots touching your bare toes. Had he approached you like this when you had entered your apartment, you would've shrunk back but your little research endeavours had struck a hint of Gold, a fact that had emboldened you as much as his admission that he infact a demon. You wanted to try and see what else you could use against him. Resolute, you stood your ground, neck slightly tilted back to meet his gaze. He may have scared you just now but you were not one to back down, for better or worse.

"God," you uttered again, watching his eyes grow dark, an inky blackness swallowing his blue irises.

Michael tilted his head to one side, those shadows starting to creep up behind him like they had last night. A silent warning.

"Jesus Christ," you continued to test him.

"(Y/N)..." his voice rumbled low out his chest, and the depth of it sent shivers down your spine.

"In the name of the father, the son and the hol-" His right arm shot up and he grabbed you by the throat roughly, cutting off your breath before you could finish the sentence. In the blink of an eye you were pressed between the wall, Michael's hand around your throat pinning you in place.

"Shut your fucking mouth or I'll do it for you," he hissed, his body pressed firmly over yours, his black gaze burning into you, and a searing pain exploded behind them. You screamed in terror and anguish as it felt like he was burning your eyes out their sockets.

"FUCK, I'M SORRY, I'LL STOP, PLEASE!" you cried, your vision going blurry from pain and tears that had begun to spill out the corners. At your cries, Michael's hand loosened the grip around your neck and stepped back. You slid down the wall at the loss of his body holding you up, gulping in air, fingers gingerly touching the skin around your eyes, afraid they would come up bloody. Unbothered, Michael watched as you regained control over your breathing, mustering you with a hint of disdain. He crouched down before you, making you press yourself against the wall in an effort to keep the distance between you.

"Don't ever think you're smarter than me, little one. Test me again and you'll see. I dare you," he chuckled, one hand catching your quivering chin in his hold to assess the damage he'd done. Only several small burst blood vessels bloomed in the whites of your eyes. Nothing permanent and yet enough to remind you that you were in his domain, abiding by his rules.

"Now that we've established who's in charge once again, why dont you tell me about your day? I took the liberty of getting some wine," he said, any trace of anger or demonic demeanour wiped from his chiseled features, that small smile playing on the corners of his lips again. He was psychotic or just simply demonic, that little voice in th back of your head whispered while you watched him, the back of your head and shoulders pressed into the wall.

He offered you his hand to help you off the floor, as if the last minutes had never taken place. You debated whether or not to refuse but seeing as how you were on the much shorter end of the stick firmly in his grasp, you took his hand and were hoisted up to your feet by Michael. You recoiled from his grasp as soon as you were steady on your feet,  eyeing him warily. Alcohol sounded like a good idea even though you wanted to keep your wits about you around him. There was no doubt in your mind now about who it was you were dealing with and this was far worse than you'd anticipated and yet it didn't seem like you had much choice. Your lease wouldn't run out for another 6 months and there was no way you'd go back to your best friend's couch.

“Why the hell not,” you muttered, earning yourself a gleeful grin from the handsome devil before you.

“I knew you'd come around, Angel,” he grinned, those hooded icy blue eyes glinting.

#michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x you #michael langdon #demon!michael #ahs apocalypse

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #403

“ashes to ashes, watch me disappear”

If given the opportunity, would you like to star in a musical? Definitely not. I don't like musicals. Name one person you’d take a bullet for: There's honestly a lot, but Mom immediately came to mind. Any posters of a band on your bedroom wall? Yeah: Metallica and Marilyn Manson currently. I want lots more, especially an Ozzy one. Do you think you’ve already met your soulmate? I don't believe in soulmates. Do you share your bedroom with anyone? No, unless you include my cat and snake. Is your favorite color yellow? No, it's actually one of my least favorites. Were you born in a hospital? I was. Do you know the name of the person that delivered you? No, but Mom does. I think he delivered me and my two sisters, and I know Mom has seen him since for other reasons. Was your birth recorded? God no. Good call, Mom. Did you eat a peach this week? Would you believe me if I told you I had a small bit of peach pie for my sister's birthday? For some reason, I just really wanted to try some. It was okay, but the aftertaste sucked. Are you leaving the house tomorrow? Yes, for TMS therapy. Every weekday. Do you enjoy romantic movies, even when they’re cliche? I honestly do. If you could get free vocal lessons would you take them? Probably not. I don't like singing in front of anyone, and it's not like I wanna get anywhere with my singing, so. Is your mother diabetic? She is. Are you? No. Ever sang someone to sleep? No. Who do you stalk the most through Facebook? Nobody. Have you ever deleted your Facebook, then brought it back? No. What is your main responsibility each day? Be sure to take my medications. Do you feel like you fulfill those responsibilities? Yeah. There are rare mornings where I forget, but I almost always remember. I don't fw skipping out on meds that keep my mental health stable. When was the last time you used spray paint? Good question. Do you know the middle name of the last person you kissed? Yep. Who is the friendliest person you know? My mom, probably. Something that annoys you about summer: THE HEAT. THE HUMIDITY. UGH. Something that annoys you about winter: Hm. That's hard to say, given I love winter. I guess the fact it doesn't snow enough here. Are the doors of your fridge side by side or on top of one another? Side-by-side. If you’ve moved out of the house you were born in, do you know the people who live in that house now? Nope. Have you ever cried in a movie theater? Not sobbed or anything, but I've definitely teared up and gotten the sniffles because of multiple movies. Do you read comic books? No. Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved? No. Have you ever seriously pretended to be clinically insane? I didn't need to pretend; I'm pretty damn sure I was for a while. Might I add that it's EXTREMELY inconsiderate to pretend you're insane, btw. Insanity is not "cool." It's not "funny." It's not "edgy." It's a serious, confusing, heart-wrenching issue that can ruin lives. Do you know anyone with a stutter? Yes, myself included when I'm even mildly nervous. And sometimes just randomly. With a lisp? I don't believe so. What was the last board game you played? The Disney version of "Pretty Pretty Princess" w/ my niece and even my nephew, even though his sexist-ass dad didn't want him to. Like let your kid have some fun with his sister and aunt, goddamn. They had a blast. It was Aubree's birthday present from me, so I am SO glad she loved it. Did you win? Ha ha, no, I always let Aubree or Ryder win. I came super close once, but I let the kids bend the rules a bit. They don't like losing, and even though they definitely need to understand that just happens and is totally fine for it to, I wasn't about to be the one to make them sad about it. When was the last time you tried to speak with an accent? OH MY LAAAAAWWWWWWD. Also at Aubree's b-day party, at one point, I spoke in a snobbish British accent while I was winning at the aforementioned game. Ryder asked, "Why are you speaking Spanish?", and I fuckin DIED. Have you ever made up a word before? Yeah, I know at least a few instances for fantasy animals in writing. When was the last time you went to a museum? A couple summers ago when my brother and his son visited, we went to a science museum. My nephew was sooooo into it. Do you have a nice yard? If so, do you spend a lot of time outside in it? If not, where do you go when you want to relax outdoors on nice days? Our front and back yards are both small and honestly very boring. The grass is a pretty green, but that's the only nice thing about it. I don't go to sit outside here on any day. Do your parents enjoy any of the things that you enjoy? Do you bond over these things? My parents and I have very similar music tastes, so there's that. I also didn't know for the longest time that Mom likes to write, which I sure as hell do, too! She doesn't really write anymore though, and she's self-conscious of it anyway, like I am. She and I also love a lot of the same shows. What is the movie that you have waited the longest for/which film do you remember anticipating the most/are still anticipating? I think The Incredibles 2. I aaaalways wanted to know what happened after the end of the first film. Do you have any ideas for a story or movie you’re planning to write or you’d write if you had the time/had the talent? Please share a synopsis! I genuinely think some RP I've written is series-worthy, but I don't feel like re-writing the YEARS of RP into a book format, and I sincerely worry that the ridiculously dark parts could inspire people like serial killers and cause A LOT of controversy, crime-blaming, and just general hate. I don't want to be involved in that. What is something that an interested guy/girl could comment about you, that would make you instantly open to them (e.g., “That book you’re reading is from my favorite author”)? Compliment my Markiplier tattoo, obviously knowing it's a tribute to him, and we're essentially besties. Is there a person in your life (maybe barely) that you feel in constant competition with (even just in your imagination)? Maybe you feel they are consistently outshining you? Ugh... there's a local photographer that's much more successful than I am that I admittedly am very envious of. I swear to whatever god you may believe in that I mean it from a modest perspective, I really, really do, but I genuinely think my skills surpasses hers, and she's only more prevalent because photography REALLY is about who you know. She's talented, yes, but like... come on. If you are single, even if you are normally happily single, are there certain specific things you witness that make you wish you were in a relationship (e.g., people getting engaged)? I mean yeah. I miss cuddling, holding hands, kissing, just being cute together, and especially people getting engaged or having kids. It's such a trigger to me. Once upon a time, that's all I wanted with Jason. I wanted to be that beautiful couple that got married and had two or three loved-beyond-words children, but then he left so abruptly, and I feel like it was so brutally robbed from me. I don't want kids anymore like at all, but the point still stands that I felt like my dreams were just ripped away. Out of all your usernames for websites, which one is your favorite? Do you use it for more than one site? I use "Ozzkat" just about everywhere. Have you ever spent the whole day (or multiple days) just looking up one thing on the internet (e.g., videos of your favorite band, how-to videos, quizzes, etc.)? OHHHHHHHHHH YEAH. There have been a couple days or so where I was totally glued to looking up various tattoo designs, bingeing let's plays or conspiracy theory videos, etc. etc. If you ever think about getting married, what are some aspects of the wedding that you would like to see in a non-traditional manner (e.g., a different color dress or “partners” over “husband” and “wife”)? I WILL NOT get married in a church, first of all. I'm also not having the traditional vows, and I probably won't wear a white dress, but instead black. Salt & vinegar, barbecue, sour cream & onion, or cheddar? Ohhhh, I like all those options but barbecue. I think I've gotta go with sour cream & onion, though. Bow ties on guys, dorky or adorable? A D O R A B L E ! ! ! I think they're ordinarily geeky, but I mean, geeky is cute in my world. :^) Do you believe in demonic possession? How about ghosts? Angels? Angels, no. Spirits/ghosts, 100%. I don't exactly believe in demons, per se, but I do question if evil spirits can possess someone. What is one romantic movie that you enjoy enough to watch more than once? I've seen The Notebook numerous times. Name three countries you want to visit; why those three? South Africa to interact with meerkats at the KMP, somewhere up in Canada to see the Northern Lights, and Germany just because, really. I took German for four semesters, and the culture and all just interests me. Do you have a good luck charm? No, considering I don't believe they do jack. Do you use Skype to talk to your friends? Only Sara. Now that I have Discord semi-figured out now though, we'll probably use that for voice chatting. Are you allergic to any animals? I might be allergic to dogs. Do you usually spend your weekends out, or at home? I'm like... always at home. Do you think it’s wrong for people to say "retard/retarded" as an insult? Absofuckinglutely. Don't pull that shit when I'm around. Have you ever had to go to the police department? No. Have you ever lived through a hurricane? Plenty. Have you ever had a home-grown tomato? Yes, from my old friend's garden. We'd have delicious tomato, mayo, and bacon sandwiches. The only instance where I've enjoyed tomatoes. Have you ever held a real gun? The former friend I mentioned just before, her husband always carried a gun, and he just needed me to hold it for a sec for some reason I don't recall. I hated the feeling. Would you rather wear Converse or Vans? I like both, but I think I prefer Converse. Have you ever been called bipolar? Yes, because I clinically am. Have you ever made fun of a handicapped person? FUCK no. And like the "retarded" thing, don't you fucking DARE to do this in front of me. I WILL deck the shit out of you. Do you think it’s okay to have sex before marriage? Sure, as long as you're being safe and are very thorough in communication. Do you like to watch old sitcoms? I don't really watch TV as I say in like every survey it seems, but I do enjoy some old sitcoms I grew up watching with my mom, like The Nanny, The Golden Girls, The Munsters, etc. If asked, could you run a mile nonstop right now? Being completely serious, I don't even know if I CAN physically run right now. My legs are so incredibly weak, and I'm humiliatingly close to what my heaviest weight was back in 2016, so I can almost guarantee my knees would crumple if I tried. Do you wear those rubber wristbands? I used to. I don't really like bracelets nowadays. If a necklace/ring gives you green marks, do you still wear it? Nope. Have you ever driven an electric car? No. When was the last time you saw someone you went to high school with? Uhhhh idk. What breed was the last dog you saw? A fucking GOLIATH of a lab. I shit you not when I say my sister's roommate's dog Hudson is the size of a goddamn bear. How long have your parents been together (or how long were they together, if they no longer are): I wanna say they were together at the very least 20 years. What has been your most epic cooking failure? I once accidentally put something (I don't remember what) in the microwave for around 45 minutes I believe, and I walked away and completely forgot about it. I remembered a long while later, and safe to say, it wasn't edible, whatever it was, lmao. Have you ever been to Mexico? No. Have you ever had a parrot sit on your shoulder? No, but that'd be cool. Has anyone in your life ever treated you abusively? No. How long has it been since your last breakup? Somewhere around two years ago? My memory is so garbage nowadays. Can you concentrate well while listening to music, or do you find it distracting? It's distracting, usually. What’s something you’ve been struggling with lately? I've been pretty bad about drinking too much soda lately. :/

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''under the graveyard'' by ozzy osbourne

[neocity-sarai]

"𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 _____" 𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼

❀ chapter 2: reader x haechan

❀ enemies to lovers trope

❀ alerts: fluff, tinge of angst, language, mentions of drinking, heavy making out

❀ song rec: “tokyo” by owl city ft. sekai no owari

“Love in Tokyo”

What’s the one thing that’s the most important to you? It was always your voice, of course. Since the mere age of 4, singing was your whole world. Your dad had bought you the most expensive model of a child’s karaoke machine and it soon became something that you held onto in your sleep. Holding a microphone was like second nature to you, the way the gridded pattern on the ball of your microphone felt under your fingertips surged you with excitement. You’d hold a singing show for your family members every holiday: christmas, thanksgiving, and everything in between. When you became a senior high school student, assimilating into your school’s choir group was easy for you. The teacher showered you with compliments and always requested that you’d become the shining soprano of the girls’ choir- many of which called you “teacher’s pet” or too “arrogant for your own good”. To you, you never listened to them- your dream was to join the music program at Tokyo University of the arts. And you were sure that you would do whatever it took to get there. 

One day, your choir teacher had told you that she had been a longtime friend of one of the instructors at the university and was thinking of hosting a traveling showcase. During lunch, she pulled up the website on the projector as she animatedly talked about what kind of things students learned and the connections they would build. The program specialized in everything ranging from music theory to divine performance, it was like she could look inside your head and spell out your dream. That afternoon, you pushed your parents to sign the permission slip the moment you stepped foot in your house. Your dad couldn’t reign in your excitement as you squealed when his pen hit the sheet of paper. You waved the paper around in the air but you were careful enough  to not rip it as your mother eyed your father from the kitchen counter happily. Your father turned to you before popping a grape in his mouth, “So, what are you most excited about?”

You spun around several times, dancing light on your feet, “To have my solo at the showcase of course! I wish you guys could be there.”

“That’s why you’ll have to facetime us before and record it so we can show everyone we know!”

You run over to your mom and dad, pressing tight kisses to their heads, “I can’t believe I’m going to Tokyo!”

3 weeks later

You scanned through your list of items on the way to the airport, not that it would matter anyway since you triple-checked everything that you stuffed in your suitcase. Your mom read the list out to you: “Wallet?”

“Check!” “Passport?” “Check!” “Tampons?” “Ugh, check!” “Toothbrush?” “Check!” “Sweets, I think you have everything.”

Of course you did. Like you said, you packed everything neatly and efficiently. Your dad had helped you unload your suitcase before you caught sight of your friend Sunny and the rest of your classmates by the check-in counter. You kissed your parents goodbye before running over to her as she yelled for you, “Y/n! over here!”

You swung your arm around her, “Sunny! Are you ready to have the best trip ever?”

She smiled at you, “Sooo ready!”

Ever since freshman year, Sunny has always stuck by your side. She was a kind yet quirky girl, she always wore daisy clips in her braided pigtails. Your classmates made fun of her perkiness which is something you never minded. When it was time to finally board your flight, you couldn’t control the insane thrum of your heart, your toes curled at the thought of being on your way to the beautiful of Tokyo. Ironically, your excitement faded away during your 13 hour flight. The air of the plane was stuffy, you were sure that you were getting air-sick, and the refreshments cart wheeled over your foot about 5 times. You were not about to puke your guts out before your first day at the dream institute you’ve longed for your whole life. The pilot announced you’d be landing soon, Sunny turned to you, “How does my face look?”

You answered her, “Uh- good?”

“Really? I think I look like a mole that's been in a burrow for 13 years, I mean, look at my under eye-bags!”

You pat Sunny on the shoulder, “You look fine, it’s okay. We all look like that.”

Suddenly, the plane starts to shake from the turbulence as you both brace yourselves into your seats- you feel bile rise in your stomach. You swallow to force it down anyway. After passing the “Welcome to Tokyo” sign, it hadn’t really sunken in yet. You craved a hot shower and some fresh clothes the minute your teacher mentioned the hotel you all would be staying at. 

That’s when it hit you. Tokyo looked as if everything you dreamed it to be. You were right at the heart of Shibuya, people crossed the street in every angle possible as glowing japanese characters hung from signboards. Even though it was daytime, you could imagine how beautiful it would look in the night time. Wires were strung over every telephone pole and streetlamp, creating a web of ropes between the buildings. Even the people in Tokyo were different: from stoic businessmen with briefcases to women who darted around wearing organza skirts- the japanese animations moved across towers of screens. Your classmates oohed and ahhed at gigantic trucks that whizzed by, video game characters flashing on the sides of them. After a quick meeting about liabilities and safety protocols, the choir teacher had let you all have some free-time. You and Sunny went back to your shared room- two other girls painting their nails on the floor. You tiptoed over to your bed, accidentally knocking your classmate’s nail polish in the process, “Oh- god- I’m sorry-”

She sneers at you, “Yeah, you should be.”

You opt to lay down, scrolling through your phone for a bit. Suddenly, your classmate raises her voice, “What are you guys looking most forward to on the trip?”

You point at yourself, “Are you talking to me?”

She blows on her nails before glaring at you, “There’s four of us in here, who else would I be talking to?”

Trying to answer calmly, you say, “You go first then.”

Your classmate snickers, “I can’t wait to meet all the cute boys who go to the university. I bet there's a plethora of them.”

Her friend quirks her eyebrows up at her, “What does plethora mean?”

“It just means a lot.” She mutters under her breath, cursing at her friend. You roll your eyes to Sunny as Sunny makes a stank face at the two girls who sit on the ground. Chuckling at the sight, you’re cut off by your classmate’s voice.

“What about you, y/n?”

You reply, “Honestly, I can’t wait until we go to class and learn about music studies. I can’t wait to sing in front of them.”

Your classmate scoffs, “Studious as always. You could loosen up, you know?”

You could go on and on about how hard you’ve worked to grasp this opportunity, only part of the choir was allowed to leave for Tokyo and you weren’t about to let it slip through your fingers for some meaningless fun. You shut your mouth in contempt, letting Sunny drone about all the delicious foods she wants to try.

First day of class

Walking into your group’s classroom- you can already tell how remotely different it is from your classroom tucked away in your high school. The room is a lecture hall that could seat hundreds of university students as various instruments were propped up against the corner of the room. There’s a platform where the professor sits at, a skinny japanese man who thumbs through various piles of sheet music. When the rest of us are seated, university students come piling in as they jostle each other through the doorway. You make eye contact with a boy who enters the room first, his friends hitting him on the back. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of such a boy, his eyes are smoked with iridescent highlights, and his hair is a chestnut color accented with violet streaks that shade his eyes slightly. He wears a red bomber jacket, his ripped black jeans tightly wrapping his long legs. Oh god, were you staring? Averting your eyes, the boy winks at you playfully before taking a seat in the aisle in front of you. You hear Sunny whisper in your ear, “Who was that? Did he just wink at you?”

“No, I think he just had something in his eye.”

You don’t expect him to turn around, “You guys must be the choir group that prof told us about, right?”

You and Sunny stare at each other before you respond to him with a burst of confidence, “That’s right. We’re here to learn about music.”

The skinny japanese man stands up on the platform before adjusting his microphone, “And you have come to the right place.”

The boy in front of you whispers at you both, “The name’s Haechan, baby.”

When he turns around to the front, you find yourself interested by this stranger’s behavior. Is this what university is like? Enjoying the lecture couldn’t even begin to describe what you felt. You remembered how you intently listened to the professor talk about music structures and societal conformities and how you talked Sunny’s ear off about it all through lunch. Meanwhile, your classmates and most of the university students had dozed off in their seats. When it was the end of class, your choir teacher had hugged the professor tightly before turning to face the class. 

The professor speaks, “As you all may know, my good friend Barbra Lenor has come to Tokyo to teach her students about the art of music. I hope you treat them with respect and kindness. Haechan, Jaemin, and Chenle, you will be responsible for showing them around in exchange for extra credit.”

Haechan flashes a thumbs up to his professor, “Really, sir?”

You hear the boy called Chenle look at Haechan, “I was supposed to join the fortnite tournament tonight..”

The professor laughs at them, “ Haechan, extra credit couldn’t hurt. Chenle, find another time.”

“Class dismissed!”

After you and Sunny gather your belongings into your book bags, Haechan and his two friends stand by your desks as they gaze you up and down. You feel strangely curious yet skeptical. Your mother had always trusted you not to trust college boys- Haechan fit the perfect description of a boy anyone would tell you to watch out for. He radiated overconfidence, cockiness? Haechan scoffs at you, putting one hand at the corner of the table, “Listen girls, we’re very busy people and we won’t have time to do much. You’ll have to follow as we say.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Why would we have to do that? If you don’t want to, don’t force yourself because god forbid that you would have to.”

A mischievous smirk graces Haechan’s plush lips, he cocks up his eyebrow, “Huh interesting, when are you both free?”

Before you can refuse once more, your two roommates saunter over. Despite being in the same choir for 3 years, you never got to know their names until now. The taller girl was named Sara and her shorter friend- Chloe. Sara was also someone who seemed to fit that image of “a cat-like queen” who checked herself in the mirror every 6 seconds and her friend, Sara’s vessel to push around yet still stuck with her. Sara runs a hand through her brunette hair, “We’re free tomorrow after lecture, what do you say?”

You see Haechan scan Sara with his fiery eyes, licking his lips in the process. You grimace at the action, wondering if anyone had noticed. Haechan nods to you all, “It’s a deal ladies.”

Within the first thirty minutes of the next day’s lecture, you did not wake up to expect that you’d engage in an argument with none other than Haechan. The professor had begun a lecture topic about the ways in which music could be interpreted. He played you a love song from some famous japanese film you had no clue about, still, you explained how hard it would be to understand music in a different language. Haechan countered you by saying that music in different languages is the definition of diversity and that you weren’t trying hard enough to understand it. Before you could refute him, you wanted to wipe the smug grin that was plastered on Haechan’s voice as he chuckled devilishly. The professor stopped you both from continuing, saying that you both brought up good points but missed the central message entirely. You grumbled to Sunny all throughout class. What gave Haechan the right to show off when you had just wanted to learn from others? You doubted that Haechan was at the university to learn anyway. After class, Haechan laughed in your face, “How’s it feel to be scolded by Professor Hinama?”

You roll your eyes at him, violently shoving your books into your bag, “Can it, Haechan. You got scolded just as much as I did.”

‘Yeah, but I’m used to it so it doesn’t get under my skin like it does to you.” You wanted to punch his pretty, perfect face. You felt the tension in your heart swell angrily when Haechan asks, “You guys still on for city-seeing tonight?”

You scoff at him, “As if I’d go with you.”

Sunny begins to clutch your arm as she squeals, “Come on! This is the perfect opportunity to see the city! We have to go!”

You motion to Sara, Chloe, and Sunny, “You guys can go ahead without me, I’m gonna work on my piece for the showcase.”

Sara laughs in a superficial manner, “Fine by me- the better honestly.”

“I won’t go if y/n doesn’t.”

Your eyes widen at Haechan’s statement, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you have to come with us.”

“But why?”

“Because you’ll spend your whole time here working. You need to loosen up a little.”

The last part of his statement burns in your brain. You were sick of people calling you uptight just because you wanted to chase your dreams and had real goals. It made you especially annoyed when Haechan said it. You were never this bothered. You didn’t want him to be right.

You answer him, “Fine. Be at our hotel by 7.”

“Yes, scary lady.”

You fight the urge to slash Haechan in the neck, he had Jaemin and Chenle to do that for him. 

7 PM.

When 7 PM. rolled around, you had chosen a nice outfit no matter what Haechan and his friends had planned for you. Your mother helped you find your own fashion style, something that you’re deeply grateful for. You opted to wear tight-fitting jeans and a lilac off the shoulder top, silver crystals hung off your ear lobes. Sara clicked her tongue at you, “Wow, y/n, you’ve got style- I give you that.”

You nod at her, “Thanks.”

When Haechan and the boys arrive, you notice that they had taken the dress code just as seriously as you girls had. Haechan wore the same black jeans from before but opted for a matte leather jacket that was littered in gold chains. Jaemin wore shorts with a nice navy blue dress shirt, Chenle opting for a street style look as a white bucket hat shielded his eyes. Haechan moves closer to you, “Wow, miss uptight cleans up nice.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you huff, “I guess the same could go for you.”

Throughout the night, you found yourself enjoying running around Tokyo more than you had expected. The boys had taken you all to a three-story ramen restaurant that was insanely cheap- you couldn’t get enough of Haechan’s teasing when you powered through two bowls loaded of noodles. First, you hit Akihabara which was a neighborhood that was known as the electronic and video game part of the city as humongous robots suspended over taito gaming cafes. Tokyo seemed even more like a fantasy at night, you all would rush onto the subway right before it would leave- out of breath as you leaned back in your seats. Every hour, there was more to see: you went shopping in a nine story mall in Shinjuku, took photos with lolita girls in Omotesando alley, and picked up street-food in Mitaka. By the time you looked at your watch, it was already 1 am. Sunny kept complaining how her heels were hurting her feet so you had decided to do a more laid-back activity. Jaemin led you all to a small karaoke bar in the center of Kabuki-cho where colorful lights blurred in your vision. You felt like you were high on life, glowing sign boards dripped colors of electric blue and cherry reds as you skipped along the street. When you all finally got your private karaoke room, Haechan started to buzz over a waitress. He whispered some japanese words that none of you but his friends understood- the waitress came back with several sparkling glasses on a tray. She sent them down in front of you, you gulped it down for how much your throat hurt. Hiccuping, you and Sunny set the flutes down, you were hit with a sudden realization, “That was alcohol wasn’t it?”

Haechan leans back in his chair comfortably, spreading his legs on the cushion, “Sure was. Have fun.”

In normal circumstances, you never would ever think to drink a drop. Somehow, tonight seemed different and you weren’t about to let your friends get farther than you. Several flutes of sparkly liquids later, you couldn’t see straight. Everything felt like a psychedelic fever dream, faces laughing into yours as you danced on the couch or you belted into the microphone with Chenle.

Standing on the couch, you felt yourself lose balance, your legs wobbling from the effects of the alcohol. You fell, your butt landing on Haechan’s lap. You did the unthinkable- you booped Haechan’s nose with the tip of your finger, you said, “Hello, idiot.”

He held you, his arms wrapped around your waist, “Idiot? Don’t you think you’re talking about yourself?”

Your words slurred together, “Uh huh, yeah, nope, no, you’re a bully sir.”

You take a mental note of the slit in Haechan's eyebrow as he raises his brow at you, “Bully?”

Shoving a finger at his chest, you continue on, “You’re so mean- I just got here and I yeah, I you’re so mean to me in class- you don’t even know me that well.”

“Y/n, I know you’re tough so that’s why I do it.”

“You know, bully, I was upset about being scolded today- how could you bully me?”

Suddenly, Haechan’s expression turns sad, “You were?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t mean to make you feel that way, I-”

You shush him by pressing the pad of your finger to his lips, “Do you have a girlfriend?” You can’t even hear yourself anymore.

Haechan shakes his head, “I’ve never had one.”

You burst out into laughter, your skin feeling hot from Haechan’s fingers grazing the skin by your hip, “Whaaat? You? A playboy who doesn’t care about music at all and winks at strangers?”

Haechan’s frame stiffens, “Is that how you see me?”

Before you can answer, you laugh into Haechan’s shoulder as if his touch is your narcotic, “I don’t feel good but I do-”

The moment ends when he pushes you off his lap, placing a hand on your thigh, “Okay, time to get you home.”

You hear Sunny and Sara whine, Sara clings on to Jaemin’s arm, “Not yet!!”

Haechan stands as he tells Chenle and Jaemin to watch Sara, Chloe, and Sunny, urging them to stay longer. He lifts you bridal style, your arm slung around his neck, “I’m taking you home.”

You still protest by slapping his chest in which he had to deal with the whole train ride back. When you make it up to your room, Haechan sets you down on your bed before tucking the comforter over your body. With alcohol still running in your veins, you grab a hold of his palm, “Can you stay a bit?”

“I thought I was a bully.”

“You are but I don’t hate you.”

Haechan cards his free hand through the tufts of his hair, his face illuminated in the dim light. From that angle, Haechan looks ethereal. He stares down at you with dark eyes, his lips pursed with amusement, “That’s nice to hear.”

He sits on the ground by your head, his hand still intertwined with yours. You don’t know why this question eats up at you, why it even affects you. You whisper to him from under the covers, “Haechan, what do you even go to Tokyo university for?”

He looks at you with softened eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line, “You know, I think you’ve got the wrong idea about me.”

“How so?”

“As a kid, my dream has always been to enter a celebrity training program in Seoul. I’m not that good to be so high level yet so my parents sent me to study in Tokyo first.”

Suddenly, you feel incredibly sober. You sit up on your bed, the cover falling away, “Really? Aren’t those programs really hard physically and mentally?”

He nods, his fingers picking at his chin, “If it wasn’t a challenge, people wouldn’t become asia-based singers. I haven’t given up yet.”

You stare at him in awe, his voice hard with determination and strength, “Wow, I had no idea.”

“What about you?”

You answer him, “I’m my choir’s lead soprano. Like you, I feel like I was destined to sing. My dream is to study here in Tokyo and then balance singing with becoming a music professor.”

Haechan muses, “I’m not surprised, you’re a bright girl. I’ve seen your passion for music, the way you talk with confidence in class. It’s amazing.”

You feel a blush creep up your neck and your cheeks at his compliment, you clear your throat, “Do you write?”

“I do, I’ve been working on my own piece for the showcase.”

Haechan goes silent for a moment before he whips out his phone from his pocket, “Do you write?”

“Of course.”

“I-uh- I’ve been stuck on one verse for a while and I was wondering if you could help me?”

When you look at Haechan’s sparkling eyes, you sense his uncertainty. You sense his conflict. You nod at him, ushering him to read you his song. When he does, you see a different light in Haechan. You take note of the way he taps his foot into rhythm, humming and clicking his tongue to illustrate the flow of the song. You see the makings of an artist. He’s just like you. When he’s done, he looks up at you, “So, this part- here. I’m stuck.”

Immediately, you snap your fingers to the beat as you scat to the song, “I think you should add a b chord here and a f sharp chord there. I think it would highlight the chorus well like playing down the notes before the bridge.”

Haechan scribbles your comments onto his phone, his finger gliding all over the screen. He pauses before ad-libbing the song once again, your advice in account. All of a sudden, he jumps up from his chair before attacking you into a bear hug on to your bed. 

“Oh my god, y/n, you did it! My song is done!”

Staring at him with wide eyes, you rest your hands on his shoulders, “Congratulations, Haechan.”

Without a moment to spare, Haechan leans forward to crash his lips onto yours. You pull back in surprise, eyeing him with affirmation. Haechan pins your wrists to the wall as you press your back flat against the wall, allowing him to kiss you fervently. You shiver from the way your lips mold over Haechan’s, his hands intertwined with yours against the wall. Slowly, Haechan drags his lips down to the hollow of your neck, he presses burning kisses to your skin. You sigh with pleasure, a whimper coming from your lips when he straddles your lap. You hear him grunt when you release his hand and press your hand to the back of his neck. He pulls away briefly to look at you, “I’ve never felt this way with anyone before.”

You gaze at him, his eyes half-lidded and drunken of the feeling of your touch, “Me neither.”

He lets his leather jacket fall to the floor before lifting the hem of his white tee over his head. You pause at the sight of him being shirtless in front of you, you drag your fingers across the toned muscle of his chest and his stomach. He’s not extremely ripped but he’s not without muscles either. You hear Haechan’s breathing get heavy when he places his hand over yours. Your bodies are extremely hot now, the temperature rising when Haechan bites your bare shoulder. You whine, feeling the fabric slowly slipping down from your shoulders. You resort to taking it off entirely, it lands by Haechan’s jacket on the floor. When he sinks his teeth into the area near your collarbone, you let out a yelp only for Haechan to whisper in your ear, “Baby, you can’t be too loud.”

You decide to try something new by tugging Haechan’s hair back before pressing your lips to his neck. He laughs at your attempt to be stronger than him, stroking your cheek when you pout, “Don’t laugh at me! See, this counts as bullying!”

He shakes his head before allowing you to pepper kisses down his chest, your hair looped around his fingers. Becoming impatient, he raises your chin to meet his lips again as his tongue parts through your mouth causing you to squeeze his hip bone from the reaction. He wraps his hand around the curve of your thigh, his nails digging into the fabric of your jeans. He starts to whisper in your ear, “I think I’m-”

Before he can finish his sentence, you hear your friends’ voices echoing from down the hall. You push him off you, “oh shit!”

He laughs as he watches you to scramble to put your shirt on. When you do, you turn to see Haechan who isn’t moving at all. He sits on your bed, his shirt and jacket still on the floor, “What are you doing?! They’re coming?!”

He gives you a playful smirk, “And?”

It’s too late. The girls walking in see Haechan shirtless on your bed, red marks all over both of your necks. Sunny gasps the loudest, “Were we interrupting? Oh sorry- jesus-”

Sara and Chloe smirk beside her. You grab Haechan by the arm, pressing his t-shirt and jacket to his chest, “Get out!”

Haechan stammers over his words, clutching his clothes against his body, “Wait- I -Hold on-”

You slam the door in his face, “We have class tomorrow, go home already!”

“Come on, y/n! We were just-”

“I said go home Haechan!”

You hear him waddle away, Sunny and you roommates scampering into bed. You turn off the light, laying back into your pillow- your thoughts plagued with heated moments of Haechan’s lips on yours, blushing at the thought of what could’ve been if you weren’t interrupted. 

Your next couple weeks were memories made with your new friends along with Haechan, especially Haechan. You and Haechan made it some secret game to sneak around when your professors and classmates weren’t looking, ransacking the bread stand during lunch. You snuck up on to the roof, Haechan’s warm hand enclosed in yours as he draped his uniform jacket around your shoulders. He’d giggle at your dumb jokes, resting his head on your lap as you’d run your fingers through his coffee-stained hair. It felt like bliss, breathing the cold Tokyo air- alone with a boy who still didn’t cease his teasing during class. You didn’t mind it as much anymore, knowing that Haechan wouldn’t say words with bad intentions. Professor Hinama had scolded you both because Haechan kept trying Chenle to pass you notes that he wrote you, lines of cheesy poems comingled with some crude insults about how you had bedhair or how your breath smelled bad. Of course, you wouldn’t let him win so easily. One night, Haechan decided to take you to a arcade in Shibuya, it was a night that was to be written in the books. Haechan raided you tokens, shoving them into the claw machine because you told him you thought the stuffed bear in the case looked like him. He was determined to win it for you no matter how much you screamed at him for wasting your tokens on one game. You both danced together on the rainbow-colored pad of dance revolution, Haechan pushing you over so you would lose. He might’ve won then but he was not to beat you at mario kart. You concentrated on the spinning track, surging past the finish line at 1st place as Haechan pouted at you, begging for another try. You shook your head, “I won fair and square, end of story.”

“But, y/n, I was distracted!”

“Sucks to suck, doesn’t it?”

Haechan continues to whine at you, you pull him into a hug, “Let’s go play another game!”

By the end of the night, Haechan finally managed to win you that stuffed bear- a souvenir of the newfound feelings you two shared, the fondness of each other. 

Many nights were filled with city outings with your friends. Once, Jaemin tried to balance a teppanyaki stick on his nose was Sara and Sunny recorded him at the same time. Little flashbacks of when Haechan grabbed your hand, your friends darting out of the restaurant in order to prank Chenle who was a poor boy who was just in the bathroom, his confused face making you all laugh. It was the little moments and the memory of staring up at Haechan’s bright eyes amongst the colorful lights that made you wish you could stay in Tokyo forever.

Day of the showcase

If you could see inside yourself, you were sure that you could see your nerves bouncing around- darting back and forth in your stomach. You and Haechan spent the last week practicing your pieces- sometimes he would lie to you, claiming that he needed help on averse but pressed a firm kiss to your lips when you leaned in close. You hit his arm, “What if someone walks in?!” 

Haechan raises an eyebrow at you, “They should enjoy the show.”

You shove him off his chair before he attacks you with more pecks all over your face, your cheeks tinged with a shade of pink. Once you both were confident in your skills, time seemed to fast forward to the day of the showcase. That evening, you slipped on your favorite dress that your mother packed in your suitcase before you left. Sunny and Sara helped do your hair and your makeup as you wished them luck on their performances.

Walking into the auditorium, it was like everything you dreamed of. It was a grand hall that glowed golden as red, cushioned seats lined the room, a stage at the center under the spotlight. You made your way backstage, thumbing your flashdrive anxiously as your heart beat out of your chest. Was it getting hard to breathe? You felt a sigh of relief when Haechan trotted up to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “We’ve worked hard, we got this.”

You nod at him, playing with his fingers in the process when you both take your positions in line. Watching from backstage, it’s just as beautiful as watching in the audience. You got to see what each student felt before they stepped out into the light and how they felt after the standing ovations. When it was Haechan’s turn, he straightened his satin tie, giving your hand one last squeeze. You felt your breath hitch in your throat when Haechan sat at a grand piano, his back faced away from the audience. He sighs before meeting your eyes, “This is a special piece I wrote when I was searching for my purpose. Someone has taught me the meaning of music and why I do it- why it connects people.”

You smile when he winks at you as he starts the ballad he had first showed you. The spotlight dims into a shade of periwinkle blue and the screen on the floor blooms as an ivory lily under Haechan’s feet. The whole time you practiced, you admitted how you adored the rawness of his voice. This was on an entirely different level. The way he raised his head when he belted the high notes or the way he would scrunch his nose with emotion made your heart swell. The cheers were ear-deafening, people threw a few flowers at him when he finished. Making his way backstage, he pressed a firm kiss to your lips before gazing at you, “You’ll do amazing.”

Walking past him, you take your place on the center of the stage- the spotlight changing into the rosy pink. You felt a weight sink into your chest. Why were there that many people? You never usually got stage fright, your legs wobbled with anxiety. You looked to the side, Haechan leaned on the stage beam as he nodded at you. Taking a deep breath, you let yourself go. You sang harder than you ever did before, your heart soared every time you remembered your family, friends, and Haechan as the words fell from your lips. When you were done, the crowd screamed for you. Feeling a sense of pride, you bowed to them- your dress basking in the pink spotlight. 

The show finished with outstanding performances, each one had a different genre and a unique voice to go with their performances. Haechan lifted you in the air, spinning you as your classmates (now friends) tackled you with happiness. You all felt a sense of achievement, an experience that seemed the most valuable in the world. That was until a tall asian woman dressed in a white suit motioned Haechan over. You watched as he gave you a look of confusion- in your heart, you knew what she was about to say. You didn’t have to hear her words to know. Running back to you, Haechan down-played his enthusiasm of getting a scout letter to Seoul, Jaemin and Chenle pulling it out of his hands to read it. Of course, you were happy for him. Did you have a right to stop someone from chasing their dreams in exchange for your short-lived crush? No. You wouldn’t if he had stopped you. Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around his waist as you whisper to him, “My flight leaves back to the states tomorrow morning.”

You physically feel his body sink with disappointment as he peeled you off his body, “Can’t you just stay here?”

You sweep his hair behind his ear, caressing his cheek, “You’ll be in Seoul, you should take this opportunity to fulfill your dreams and I- well, home is back there..”

Haechan hesitates, stammering over his words, “I-I don’t even know if I-I’m sure about Seoul. What if I can’t? What if-”

You press a lingering kiss to his cheek, “You’ve shown me you’re capable. I know you can.”

Haechan buries his face into your shoulder hastily, you freeze when you hear Haechan let out a sob. All you can do is rub his back comfortingly.

When you head back to the hotel with the girls, Haechan, Jaemin and Chenle make sure to see you before driving to the airport. A tear falls from your cheek, taking in the last few breaths of the sweet air of Tokyo- the city that would always hold a special place in your heart. Haechan pulls you in for one last hug before whispering in your ear, “Promise me you won’t give up on you dreams either.”

Smiling at him, you say, “You won’t see me doing that.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, “You’ll always be the first one to me. No matter what the future is, you’ll always be the first.”

A tear slips down your cheek, you wipe it away quickly, “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

As your taxi bus drives down the narrow road, you and the girls press your faces against the back window, the three boys pretending to run after the bus. You meet eyes with Haechan, a bright smile on his face as he waves you one last farewell.

Bonus:

Years later

“Hey! y/n! Get downstairs, you’ll be late for school!”

“I’m up!”

Running down the stairs, you slip your jacket over your shoulders before taking a seat at your dining table. You hear your father’s radio playing, a beautiful voice drifting from the small box. 

“What’s that song dad?”

Your dad sets down his newspaper, a grin plastered on his face, “I don’t know but some new band released this gem! I can’t stop listening to it!”

You pull out your phone to shazam the song, a profile of a band swiping up on your screen. You don’t believe your eyes. You hold your breath for a moment, Haechan’s photo rotates on the app. 

“Do you know them?”

Smiling at your dad, you say, “Something like that.”

In your mind, you’re proud of him. He finally achieved his dream.

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct au #nct fic #nct aus #nct fics #nct dream series #nct series #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct angst #nct fluff #nct haechan #nct donghyuck #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #nct haechan fics #haechan #donghyuck #nct haechan fluff #nct haechan angst #nct smut #nct suggestive #nct haechan au #nct blurb #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct timestamps

[purplesurveys]

857

Your last ex finds out you’ve fallen in love with another person? I got back with my ex and I’ve only been ~in love~ with her, so this question doesn’t apply to me at all.

When’s the last time you were surprised? Today, because I SAW GABIE. After four goddamn months!!!!!!!!!!!! It was a big surprise to see her again, even if we did plan this out yesterday. I loved every bit of the brief time we had. Still giddy as fuck.

Would you fall apart if that last person you kissed walked out of your life? Realistically it wouldn’t be the end of the world but it would still suck and I would still be devastated, of course.

What is the last non-alcoholic beverage you had? Had water after finishing my dinner, just a few minutes ago. But I’m heating up some water so I can make coffee to drink for tonight.

Your mom finds used condoms in your room, you tell her? I’ll tell her it’s probably a prank from a friend, because it most likely would be. I’ve no reason to keep condoms, used or unused. Also I’d be pretty fucking pissed with such a prank and I’m likely to have a talk with that friend.

Do you prefer pasta salad, or coleslaw? I’d go with coleslaw, mostly because I do love it anyway and kinda because I’ve never heard of pasta salad.

Do you find smoking unattractive? I don’t find it ugly but it’s not necessarily attractive either. I don’t mind it, which is a far cry from what 18 year old anti-cigarette Robyn would’ve said.

Where’s the last place you went besides your house? I went to Gab’s house this afternoon. We played dress-up games, I bought from his dad’s small business (which sells theeee best Korean street food), she told me all about her internship and showed me the different softwares she uses, and she also introduced me to transcribing websites that can pay me a bit of money every hour because we’re both panicking about our futures hahahaha. Our activities were a bit of a rollercoaster but I fucking loved it. I was so happy for those three short hours.

If you were granted one wish, what would you wish for? I would love if I could get to dine in one of my favorite restaurants again.

Could you go for the rest of your life without drinking alcohol? Yes, I can. I’m not dependent on it and mostly drink it socially, except for the times I have bottles of soju in the fridge to drink when I’m alone and just wanna chill. Also, childhood trauma because of alcoholism in the family has made me pretty firm in my decision to not fall in too deep with my drinks.

Whose bed were you on last? Just mine.

When was the last time you changed in front of someone? March, probs? I don’t do that a lot except with my best friends.

Last person you kissed, have you cried in front of them? A few hundred times.

Do you trust all of your friends? Yes. To begin with, they’re my friends because I trust them.

Do you think the last person you kissed is nice? Yes. I don’t like it when she loses her temper because it takes a while for her to be in control of it, but 99.8% of the time she’s the nicest, sweetest, and most understanding person I know.

Does anyone call you babe? Just my girlfriend, I think.

Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months without cheating? Of course. Do you think the last person you kissed is a player? Well she’s only been with me and that’s been going on for a while, so I don’t know. We’ve had ‘what if we never got back together’ conversations though and she has told me that single!her definitely would’ve dated around and fooled around, so it’s possible that she could’ve been a player.

Could you go out in public looking like you do now? I would change my shorts. My tank top is decent; it’s actually meant to be worn outside but since it’s sleeveless and thin, I’ve taken to wearing it around the house so that I look cute here as well lol. I miss dressing up.

Do you believe exes can really ever be “just friends”? I do but I also don’t. Situation’s different for everyone.

Your ex wants you back? She did four years ago.

Would you rather love one person or have many short relationships? Just the one.

Anyone say they want to be with you forever? Mmm nope. It’s okay though, not really a fan of such dialogue. I’d rather she express this thought in different, less-cliche words.

Do you remember who you liked this time 3 months ago? Gabie.

Ever dated someone who was gorgeous but they had a conceited personality? No, I never thought of her as conceited.

Last person you had a deep conversation with? Again, Gabie. We had a brief but deep conversation about our plans for the short-term future, i.e. job-hunting, the possibility of freelancing for now, etc.

Is there a member of the opposite sex on your mind? Other than my dogs, no.

Did you reject or accept your last friend request? I ignored it for the meantime, haha. I don’t know who he is but we have tons of mutual friends apparently, so I’ll ask around to see if it’s safe to add him.

Would you prefer being locked in a room with your ex or your worst enemy? Ex, because that would also mean my current girlfriend and I’d never say no to being stuck in a room with her.

Have you kissed someone in ‘09 that means a lot to you? Didn’t kiss anyone in that year.

Do you want your ex to be happy, even if it means not being with you? I don’t have an ex but if I got into this situation with Gab it’ll be a hard-pill-to-swallow kind of situation. I’d ultimately let her go but like while I’d be bitter for a while, I would accept that it’s what she wants.

What would happen if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? That’s gonna be a huge breakthrough from a biological standpoint but I think I’d be more horrified than excited? I was traumatized enough by what happened in Eraserhead, so I’ll rush to the doctors first before celebrating lol.

Would you prefer a kiss on the cheek or neck? Neck.

Would it hurt seeing the person you last kissed kissing someone else? Yup.

If the last person you kissed bumped into you at school, what would you say? “what the fuck are you doing here”

Do you have a member of the opposite sex you can tell everything to? Andrew.

Do you believe your latest ex thinks about you? So tired of explaining the whole my-ex-is-now-my-girlfriend thing over and over lol so I might just skip questions like these if they still come up.

Has the last person you kissed, met your family? She’s met them but she’s just Gabie, Robyn’s best friend since seventh grade to my family.

Have you ever received a myspace message that made you cry? I was never active on Myspace.

Name someone whose name starts with the letter “L”: Liana, my successor in my vice-presidential position in my org.

Do you think anyone has feelings for you? Yep.

Will you fall in love in the next month? I think staying in it is more apt to say.

You’re insanely drunk stumbling through the streets, slurring songs, who are you with? While I’d let myself get to that level of drunk, I definitely wouldn’t let myself go out in public because that’s just dangerous. But to slightly answer this question, I’m willing to get irresponsibly drunk with Kate, Aya, Jo, and JM. Probably not Luisa because the last time we got drunk together she held my hand and it felt so off and I just wanted to run to Gab and cry because I was so creeped out.

Next time you will kiss someone? I have no idea. In another four months, maybe?

Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night? I think Gab. I just said I wasn’t ok and that I’ll just go to bed.

Do you like to cuddle? Only with my person.

If an ex said they hated you, you say? -

Do you know anyone who would just drop everything to come see you? No. I think that could get pretty unhealthy.

Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t do? Tons of things. I’ve stopped saying I’ll never do this and that because I always end up doing so. In the last decade I’ve joined a college org, drank alcohol, smoked a cigarette, vaped, liked smoothies...list goes on and on.

Have you ever suspected anyone of cheating on you? Nopes.

Is there someone you used to talk to every day that you don’t talk to at all? Yeah, people have come and gone. Sofie, Athenna, Macy, Chelsea, Kaira, Fern, Gabe, Agatha, Sachi, Audrey, Angel, Andi...again. List goes on.

Could you ever be friends with the person who hurt you most in life? That would be my mom, and I am at best civil with her. We have good days but they’re rare at best. I don’t see myself ending up being best friends with her many years from now.

Can you have more than one best friend? Yup, I have two.

Has anyone said they love you in the last week? Mom, dad, Gab, Angela, Angela’s mom, and a bunch of people who congratulated me when I uploaded my grad photo on social media.

Last compliment you received? My hair.

Are you starting to realize anything? Now that I’m out of school for good and off to the real world? Absolutely.

Who was the first person you talked to today? My mom because she actually woke me up -_-

Do you think you can last in a relationship for 3 months? I’ve lasted a lot longer than that.

Have you ever known someone that just creeped you out? Yes. And my intuition turned to be right because they were recently officially reported for sexual harassment.

Do you hate it when people mispronounce your name? No because I don’t know how they can possibly mispronounce it; it’s pretty straightforward. I do get misspellings a lot but I’m not annoyed a lot by it because I understandably have the less-common spelling of the name.

#survey #surveys

[multi-fandom-fanfiction]

Hi! Can I please have a male TVD/to ship?? I’m short with brown hair and blue eyes, and I’m currently in college for neuroscience 🤗I love to dance, and I was dance captain for my high school (ThePac Walden grove- watch the avengers! I’m Stephen strange). I’m competitive and I play football. I’m a very direct person, and I speak my mind no matter what. I’m a romantic, but I usually only show it in private. I have a tendency to act kinda crazy, mainly cause I go off my add meds haha. Thank you!!

The vampire diaries or the originals Nah you get both 

The Vampire Diaries

Damon Salvatore

Damon always said that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen

Damon wasn’t too into college unless it was something to do with a party or at least he wasn’t until you went to college

He loves to cuddle with you after a long day or go to the grill and drink with you while you rant about your day or tell him cool neuroscience facts

Damon wouldn’t admit it but he loves to dance

He could dance for hours with you

When you were captain of the dance team Damon went to every competition

He would bring water and power raid  saying you needed to stay hydrated

Damon had a humongous ego so your egos sometimes clash

It causes some powerful arguments and sometimes heartbreaking breakups but you always make up and both you and Damon apologize

Damon is a vampire very little can kill him so he is very careless and lacks regard for his safety

You are also reckless and just wanna have fun but your human and can get hurt very easily

Damon enjoys having a partner in crime 

even though he is very protective and concerned for your safety

He lets you have fun but he also hovers just in case

The older Salvatore also forces you to drink a little bit of his blood daily so if you were to die you would become a vamp and he wouldn’t lose you

Damon and you are both arrogant

You both believe the only person better than yourselves is the other person

Damon is used to getting what he wants or was until you can around

Now Damon doesn’t even try to argue with you he just gives in and gives you what you want 

because you are the most stubborn person he knows 

and he knows he will lose

Your stubbornness isn’t the only thing that stops your boyfriend from arguing with you

your determination was definitely the biggest reason

When you set your mind on something you didn’t stop until you got it or did it

Damon tried to stop you in the beginning but he soon realized it was a lost cause 

Damon was always competitive 

He always wanted to be number 1

You both believed in healthy competition in your relationship

Everything was a competition

(who could eat breakfast faster, who could down a bottle of bourbon quicker, Who was the better dancer, Who could get through there morning routine quicker)

It was a long time since Damon had played Football when he met you

He dabbled in it when it was first created but it wasn’t his thing back then

He tried it again because you wanted to play one quiet Sunday morning when you and your friends' group were bored and he fell in love

Now you guys made it a tradition to play it every Saturday

Damon appreciates that you are direct

Everyone in his life hides things and lies so it was refreshing you were honest

Damon loves that you speak your mind

He feels more people need to do that 

Damon is a secret romantic

He enjoys taking you to extravagant or fun dates

He showers you in compliments and gifts

He has to appear hard because he doesn’t want to show people he has feelings so they could hurt him again

He is damaged and has trust issues 

But with you, he feels comfortable and safe to be vulnerable and wants to show that

Damon can be a bit crazy so he understands when you miss a dose and goes off the handle

He calms you and gives you your medication when you forget them

He does try to avoid that though by constantly trying to make sure you are okay and you take you meds

The Originals

Klaus Mikaelson

Klaus’s eyes found you at the Mikaelson masquerade ball and he was hooked since

The original hybrid had seen and been with many beautiful women but you were by far the best

He found your body and soul perfection

Klaus loves to listen to you talk about your passions which included neuroscience

He thought you were the smartest woman he had ever met

He liked to drive you to school and walk you to class

While you did your homework he painted or sketched listening to you spur random facts

When it stressed you out too much he made sure to make you pause and relax

speaking of him painting you were his muse he had tons of sketchbooks filled with sketches of you as well as hundreds of paintings of you

Klaus wasn’t big on dancing but he loves to watch you dance

He even occasionally puts the big bad hybrid persona away and takes you out dancing for date night

When you were captain of your dance team he went to every competition

He tried to compel the judges a few times to make you win 

but after you yelled at him he never did it again

He just loved how happy you looked when your team won

when your team lost he took you all out for ice cream

He made sure you had an excessive amount of water and Gatorade to keep you hydrated

Klaus’s lifestyle demanded a certain amount of carelessness and disregard for life but he still wished you were less reckless

Klaus loved you and considered you one of the only people that he trusted so he didn’t want to lose you

Klaus feeds you vampire blood daily in case you were hurt

He makes sure you are protected as much as he can anyways

Klaus was the most arrogant person you ever met and he had an ego to rival yours but that didn’t stop the love that had blossomed between the both of you

Your egos clashed and caused so terrible fights and crushing breakups

The both of you couldn’t live without one another though and always reunited

Klaus always got what he wanted

He was used to stubborn Rebecca’s biggest flaw was she was stubborn but you put his sister to shame

You weren’t afraid to fight him

And you didn’t stop until you got what you wanted

The Mikaelson was always determined first to break his curse, to create hybrids, to protect his family especially you and hope

He always thought he was the most determined person/thing on the planet that was until he met you

You put your mind to it or you wanted something you got it no matter what stood in your way

It was one of the many attributes that Klaus fell in love with

You both competed about everything

(Who could plan the better date, who could paint a better picture, or could sketch the most sketches in the amount of time, who could cook better etc.)

Klaus was alive long before football but he never tried it he was too busy

but one day you were all celebrating and decided to play a game

He watched you laugh and smile

That alone made him love it 

but he also loved the game

now the family plays it all the time

Klaus has trust issues

He hates people lieing to him and keeping things a secret from him

So he definitely appreciates your honesty and how direct you were

Klaus pretends to be a monster but for you, he shows just how much of a helpless romantic he is

He loves to cuddle and spend time with you

He showers you inexpensive or creative gifts 

He takes you on extravagant and special dates

Klaus does everything for you

He can’t show this side to just anyone so it is special that he shows you

The original hybrid had a tendency to be insane and snap 

Klaus didn’t blame you or shame you when you forgot your dosage and became a little mad

He would just calmly take care of you

He would make you a nice meal wrap his arms and a weighted blanket around you give you your meds and lay with you until you were calm

He did try to avoid that because he didn’t want you to hurt

So he tried to remind you to take your medication

(A/n Sorry about the description I watched both Doctor Strange and the avengers but googled his personality. It said he has a massive ego and that he was careless and had little regard for his life. The website also calls him Arrogant, stubborn and determined. So I am sorry if this doesn't want you meant by being like him. On the other note thanks for requesting a ship I hope you enjoy it if not let me know and I can take another crack at it)

(Remember everyone my asks box is always open for ship and imagine request or just to talk and answer questions the same goes for my inbox. I would love to talk and befriend all you lovely people)

[buttercupsfrocks]

Damn but it’s a good time to be alive, tumblr. Not only did I have the privilege of breathing the same air as David Bowie for 50+ years, I got to wear cool graphically patterned shit in the 80s and now have the opportunity to wear it all over again thanks to the prevailing zeitgeist. 

This is a fairly typical work outfit for me. One of my colleagues initially thought this skirt was made out of taffeta but it’s synthetic leather. As y’all know, (I can totally say “y’all”; I’ve visited the American South at least ten times and speak the lingo fluently, plus I once had a Southern boyfriend and make a mean Key Lime Pie); I hate shopping online for reasons of crap-shoot fit, cash up-front, snail’s pace reimbursement of the aforementioned cash, delivery charges, and a high rate of disappointment. 

Almost none of my skirts have fitted waistbands. Genetics and the menopause have contrived to make this for the best over time so it’s probable I didn’t even give this Elvi number the time of day when it first debuted on the website. Combined with thick, heavily textured, non-stretch fabric, plus front pockets with honking great zippers on ‘em, it wasn’t the most viable of propositions. And yet this size 20 fits – with a little room to spare around the waist. Plus it cost me fifteen squids instead of the seventy it was at full price. Good old TKMaxx, eh? While the lion’s share of their plus size offerings are generally shoddily made, generic and underwhelming, it never hurts to look. In addition to Elvi, I’ve also seen a fair bit of Eloquii, Junarose, Ava and Orla, and even some Cristian Siriano knitwear. 

I played a serious waiting game with this And Other Stories ring and, to be honest, I thought I’d missed the boat as I first saw it about a year ago. A last minute reappearance in the Covent Garden branch at 70% off was just the ticket. It’s quite delicate to wear for everyday purposes as the layers of coloured acetate have a tendency to catch on things so I’ve resolved to save it for dressier occasions. I love its huge yet delicate vibe and, again, the little pop of neon yellow. A nod to a passing trend if you happen to have something to hand never goes amiss.

I don’t often write about cosmetics because as long as I have concealer, mascara and a decent lippy, I’m not really fussed. But the good things I’ve heard about Kat Von D’s eyebrow pomade are all true. I dye my brows along with the rest of my hair because, untouched, they’re a really blah washed out state of affairs, but they tend to fade quite quickly between salon visits. I previously used Benefit’s Brow Zings but, like most conventional brow products, they only come in blonde, brown or black. Super Brow comes in a wide range of unconventional colours – in my case Aubergine – and smudgelessly stays on till you take it off, even if you sleep in it. Or, in my case, when you sleep in it. And, no, this isn’t a sponsored post and, yes, my eyebrows could do with a bit of a pluck .

This is the only picture I took that accurately shows the little pops of neon yellow in the print of my shirt, which is every bit as 80s-tastic as my Oliver Bonas one from last year. However, this one I scored for something insane like twelve quid off the Kin sale rack in John Lewis. I live in fear that the range will eventually be discontinued because they always seem to have a lot of it in the sale. And I continue to love it so, soooooo hard. 

Seriously, how could I not with those prints?! I look at these lovelies and see loud acetate earrings the size of door knockers, pendants for days and possibly even a head wrap. These are all current and priced at £79 should any of you be in gainful employment and feel the urge. Right now I’m shaking my fist at the sky because this top has been reduced to £29.50 from £59.00. A pure travesty of Cosmic Justice, I’m sure you’ll agree.

*pauses to brush single crystalline tear from alabaster cheek*

Coincidentally, the day I wore this into work, one of my clients complimented me on the print of the shirt and the way I’d picked up on the neon with my accessories. Turned out she was a surface pattern designer for John Lewis. Small world.

[the-noxxi]

Okay let me ramble and rant a bit about a total random thing.

Companies that have their “why to work here” etc pages on their website full of these fake-ass smiling pictures and videos and “OH ALL THE HAPPEH PEOPLE!” shits

Every goddamn company is shit in some way, no matter how gladly you work in that branch, almost every bigger company is SHIT. As long it’s just all about the business and money it will be always shit, the same reason why gaming companies are shit as well without much exceptions.

Probably the only “companies” or such that are actually great or fun to work at are places where it’s just a friendly circle of people working there, but sometimes not even that’s fun or good, depends on the type of company.

Anyway, I’m just SO GODDAMN TIRED OF THESE.... friggin fake-ass smiling and happy attitudes on their websites as if their goddamn company would be a literal heaven. WELL IT’S NOT.

Every damn company has its own inside dramas and shits going on all the time, sure as fuck some days are fun or maybe good, but it doesn’t change the fact that there are always those shitty annoying bosses around who drives you insane or uses and abuses you to hell.

Or just the typical either asshole coworkers or the ones who do FUCKING NOTHING AND YOU HAVE TO WORK EXTRA BECAUSE OF THEIR LAZY ASSES.

Seriously why do companies do these shitty faking happiness bullshit when everyone knows that no company is great ever when working there.

Just look at all the laid off or fired or people who quit tell about the place, sure some are biased but WELL GUESS FOR WHAT REASON, something made them hate the entire place.

Seriously what the fuck is up with this shit faking thing everywhere. If i would have a company I would be rather transparent than disappoint people who so excitedly want to work there. Other CEOs and owners can shove their billions up their asses when they abuse and use so many of their workers all the time and just literally lie into your face with their shitty HR management that OH HOW FUN AND GREAT THIS PLACE IS!

NO IT’S NOT. I would be transparent and just tell that there are hardships within the company as well, but we try our best, we don’t give up things, if something is the matter, then tell us and we try to improve.

Why the fuck is this shit so fucking complicated, maybe instead of buying 50 homes and 100 cars and 200 yachts, spend that fucking money on your workers and try to improve so MAYBE PEOPLE WOULD LIKE TO BE THERE AND WORK THERE AND HELLLOOOOOOOOO MAYBE IT WOULD MEAN THAT THEY ENJOY DOING THEIR WORK THERE SO OH MAYBE IT INCREASES QUALITY AS WELL.

BUT NO, LET’S JUST FAKE ALL THE SMILES AND COMPLIMENTS ABOUT THE COMPANY SO PEOPLE GET DISAPPOINTED IN TWO DAYS WHEN THEY COME IN AND THEN QUIT.

Fucks only caring about money all the time, instead of fucking looking at WHO the fuck makes their money and how they make it, maybe increase their livelihood and help them so it increases the chance that more people want to work there BECAUSE YOU CARE ABOUT THEM.

And with that, fuck my company as well with their fucking cheapskate asshole owner who literally thinks giving a 5€ wage increase is the epitome of kindness and the best wage increase in the whole world.

#rant #IRL things #thoughts #rambling