#wow this resonated huh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

livums · 10 months

Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*it’s not a little. it’s a lot.

**it’s a long post.

i. What I Say vs. What I Mean

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So we’ve got issues.

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

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

Figure out what your characters’ are!

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

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

Tasha and Mimi are two adults in a committed partnership.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

iv. Change / The Arc

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

Now what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

final thots

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

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

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

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

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

Cheers and happy writing! 💖💖💖

#writing advice #writing tips #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #writeblr community #writing community #writing tutorial #how to write romance #i guess #lol

837 notes · View notes

avastrasposts · 5 months

Text

A Baker's Dozen - Two

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

I'm so overwhelmed and grateful for all the lovely comment you all left on the first part of A Baker's Dozen! I'm having so much fun exploring what it's like to write for different Pedro boys and finding their voices.

For those of you who are new, we've got twelve Pedro boys, twelve short stories, each set in the same bakery.

It's fluff and sweetness, lots of food and flirting. Series Master List

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring

The glare is what catches your eye first, sunlight bounces off the shiny metal surface and hits your face through the window. You shield your eyes and glance at the door as it swings open, for a second you can’t see who steps through, you’re almost blinded, but as the door swings closed, he, or she, comes into focus.

“Hi, welcome!” you say, trying to keep your voice steady as the imposing figure takes a few tentative steps into your bakery.

“Heading for a con?” you ask, glancing up and down the impressive outfit.

“A con?”

The voice that comes through the helmet is deep and resonates through what almost sounds like a speaker. It’s definitely a man, if the sheer size of the body didn’t give it away. He’s tall, broad and made even broader by the metal pauldrons on his shoulders. A heavy belt hangs around his narrow waist as if to emphasize the sheer build of this hunk of metal that’s standing in the middle of your shop, looking somewhat lost despite the fact that you can't see his face under a solid looking metal helmet.

“Yeah, like a convention, where people meet and dress as their favorite characters from tv-shows and stuff. Are you going to a con?”

“No,” comes the short answer.

He looks around the bakery, the black T of his visor seemingly scanning the selection of bread and cakes you have for sale today.

“Something smells…good,” he says, turning his helmet back onto you and you can’t help but smile.

“Thanks, yeah, I had a pretty tasty selection today, but most of it’s already been sold,” you wave your hand over the mostly empty display cases, “Do you want to buy something?”

“I…don’t think I have credit,” he hesitates but he takes another step into the shop, glancing down at the croissants stacked in a basket next to the till.

“We accept cash too,” you reply, “you don’t need a credit card.”

“No, I mean, I don’t have the right…currency for your world.”

“Oh…” you frown, did he just say ‘your world’?

You mentally shake your head, a misunderstanding, surely.

“I mean, I could let you sample something, then maybe you’ll come back with the right currency,” you say, smiling at the man. He sounds a bit confused and your customer service persona kicks in, unwilling to let someone leave without trying something that’ll get them to come back.

“I don't know what you sell here,” he says, “I have never seen food like this before.”

“Oh, really? What kind of baked goods do you have where you’re from?” you ask, surprised, you were sure pretty anyone would recognise at least a muffin and a cookie, both on display in your cases.

The tall metal man comes closer, standing next to the counter and looking at the selection, “We have many baked things where I’m from, but I have never tried any of them.”

“You’ve never had dessert?” you ask incredulously, “I have dessert every day, it’s a must!”.

“I’m Mandalorian, food is only energy for our bodies, we don’t indulge in it,” he straightens up when he says it, his hands falling to his hips. He looks imposing, like a warrior all of a sudden, and his voice takes on a serious note.

“Oh, wow, I didn’t know that was a thing, a mandalorian, huh” you raise your eyebrows, this guy doesn’t even seem like a cosplayer. Or he’s really in character.

“Are you not allowed to eat dessert at all, or is it just like, not an everyday kinda thing?”

“I can eat what I want but I’ve never had a need for dessert,” the voice coming through the helmet is a rich baritone, but holds a guarded edge, like the owner is trying to navigate something unfamiliar.

“I mean…technically there’s never a need for dessert, but I eat it everyday anyway. A good dessert is sometimes the only way to fix a bad day,” you give him your warmest smile, trying to make him feel a bit more at ease as you go back to straightening up your counter for the end of the day.

“What’s this?” The man points to the croissants on the counter and you pick one up with the tongs, holding it out to him.

“It’s a croissant, a French type of pastry. It’s not sweet, just has a metric ton of butter in it. It’s really flaky as you can see. Go on, try it.”

“I don’t remove my helmet in front of other people,” he replies and your eyebrows shoot even higher up into your hairline.

“What…but why?” The second the question comes out of your mouth you regret it, “Sorry, don’t answer that, it’s none of my business.”

“You can ask, I don’t mind,” he says and you think you hear a slight smile from behind the helmet. “I’m Mandalorian, it’s my religion, and we don’t remove our helmets in front of others, it is the way.”

“So you only eat alone?” you ask, curiosity overtaking your embarrassment and he nods.

“Yes, we never share a meal with others.”

“How sad, for me I mean,” you say, “One of the best parts about being a baker is seeing when others eat what I’ve made, I love seeing their reactions. If you try something, I won’t know what you think about it.”

“I can just turn my back to you and lift my helmet a little,” he replies, and you can definitely hear the smile in his voice now. It changes the tone of his voice, as it comes through the helmet, makes it warmer, softer, and you smile back at him.

“What do you want to try then?” you ask, “If you’ve never had dessert then I have to give you something special to try.”

“I don’t know,” he looks around the cakes and cookies on display and shakes his head, “I can read your signs but I don’t know what cinnamon or vanilla tastes like, or this one.” He points to a stack of millionaire’s shortbread, “I have never heard of peanuts.”

“Well, in that case, just in case you're allergic to peanuts, let’s not start with them,” you grin, “the last thing I need is you passing out from an allergic shock in my shop. That armor looks a lot heavier than what I can lift.”

The Mandalorian looks down at the plates that cover almost every part of his body, “It’s made from beskar, it’s a metal from my home world.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, and you mean it. The metal is polished and rich looking, a light gray color that catches the light as he moves, “It’s a very beautiful armor.”

“Do you want to hold a piece?” he asks, looking over at you again, or at least you think he’s looking at you, it’s hard to tell with the helmet.

“Is that allowed?” you ask, “I don’t want you to break any rules in your religion.”

“There is no rule against this,” he says, reaching up and taking off one of the shoulder pauldrons. It has the image of a dangerous looking animal that you don’t recognise, and as he hands it over, you see him reverently brush his fingers over it. Carefully you take it from his gloved hands, the metal warm to the touch, and just as heavy as it looks.

“It’s warm!” you say surprised and he nods.

“It holds my body heat easily, good for cold climates.”

You don’t know why, maybe because you can’t see even a sliver of skin on the man, but the thought of holding something that’s been warmed by his body heat, makes you slightly aroused. He could look like anything underneath all that metal and cloth, but his voice, his rich, low voice through the helmet, and his sheer imposing presence, makes you almost subconsciously attracted to him.

He comes around the counter and stands close as you turn the pauldron over in your hands, tracing the outline of the animal, feeling the warmth of his body.

“What is this animal?” you ask, looking up at your own reflection in his visor, “I’ve never seen one like it before.”

“It’s a mudhorn, it’s the mark of my clan.” He traces his fingers along the animal too, brushing against yours as you marvel at the intricate work.

“Thank you,” you say, handing the pauldron back as the touch of his fingers against yours becomes too much to handle, “Thank you for letting me hold it.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, his voice lower now that he’s standing next to you. You watch as he clicks the pauldron into place on his shoulder again.

How do you flirt with a man whose face you can’t even see? you wonder as he turns his visor back on you. It seems like he holds you in place for a few seconds before you slowly have to turn yourself away from him and the intensity of his sightless gaze.

“So you’ve never had dessert and you don’t know what any of this tastes like?” you say, giving your own cakes a critical look.

“No,” comes the voice from the man beside you, “Maybe you can choose for me?”

“Hmm…that’s a big ask. Your first dessert has to be something really special, but maybe not too overwhelming, and not too sweet either because if you’re not used to it, then sugar can be a bit too much. And it has to have the right combination of textures too so that you get the full experience and then maybe it should be-” you cut yourself off and look up at the man who’s shifted his weight, leaning against the counter and looking at you with his head cocked to the side. “Sorry, I’m rambling, I went into full baker mode.”

“No, go on, I enjoy hearing you analyze my first dessert experience,” he says, encouraging you to go on by putting his hand on your arm. The little touch makes you tremble slightly and you pray he doesn’t notice through the soft looking leather of his gloves.

“Really?” you ask, “Because I have an idea but I’d have to bake something for you, are you in a hurry?”

“No, I’m waiting for someone and they won’t be here until tomorrow,” he says, dropping his hand from your arm, “What would you make me?”

“Do you mind if I keep it a surprise? Only, I want you to have the best possible first dessert experience”

“I usually don’t like surprises but I’ll make an exception for dessert. And for you,” there’s a small chuckle from behind the helmet and it makes you smile.

“I’m honored,” you say, “come into my kitchen, I think I have what I need for what I was thinking of making.”

You sidestep him, making him turn sideways as you brush past him, and you don’t miss the way his hand comes up to the small of your back as he walks just behind you into the kitchen.

Your kitchen is big enough but the metal clad man takes up a lot of space as you direct him to stand by your workbench. He looks around it as you start going through your stores.

“I’ve never been inside a professional kitchen before,” he says, “I can see that you’re used to a lot of metal.”

You glance around at all the stainless steel counters and shelves that line the walls, stacked high with stainless steel pans, bowls and baking trays, and then the big shiny door that leads into your walk-in fridge before it hits you.

“Did you just make a joke about your armor?” you snort. But the man behind the helmet remains motionless and soundless as the giggle dies in your throat, afraid that you’ve somehow offended him. You look at him, your cheeks heating up, and then he chuckles loudly.

“Yes.”

“Oh fuck off, you’re terrible,” you exhale in relief, but smiling again, “I thought I’d insulted your religion or something.”

“No, jokes are allowed,” he says and you hear the mirth in his voice clearly this time, behind the visor he must be grinning widely.

“No more bad jokes, or you won’t get my dessert,” you give him a mock scolding look but he just tilts his head sideways.

“There’s another joke in that sentence,” he says, still a smile in his voice, “but I don’t want to miss out on your dessert.”

The innuendo is heavy and you have to bite back your grin, there’s no doubting his flirting tone, and instead focus on pulling lemons, sugar and butter from your stores.

“If you say so,” you huff and he chuckles, coming to stand next to you while you start prepping.

“So can you tell me what you’re doing at least?” he asks, picking up one of the lemons and turning over in his hand.

“I’m making you a pie, I already have the dough ready for the crust so I’m just going to roll it out and blind bake it before I make the filling,” you say, bringing out the rolling pin and the slab of pie dough you had in the fridge.

“I’ve never had pie,” he replies, “but I’ve seen them sold.”

“What do you eat?” you ask and you see him shrug, shifting a bit.

“Just…well, mostly freeze dried stuff that I can just add water to when I travel,” he says, “bone broth is nice too.” He shrugs again and you shake your head.

“You need to live a little, try some different food, life’s too short to live on freeze dried camping food and bone broth. Doesn’t your wife cook for you?” The last thing slips out without you thinking, your mouth racing ahead of your mind and you bite your tongue, apologizing again.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, or assume that you’re married, or that a wife should cook. Or that it would be a wife, just ignore me, I’m alone too much in the bakery,” you ramble, trying to catch up with yourself.

Beside you the Mandalorian shifts and stands with his hip leaning against the workbench so that he’s looking directly at you, he’s crossed his arms and cocked his head and it shouldn’t be that sexy, you can’t even see him, but it’s making your heart rate speed up as your cheeks go warm again.

“No, no wife,” he says, his voice somehow even lower than before, “no one to cook for me, and I wouldn’t expect my wife to cook for me either,” he shifts his weight, putting one hand down on the workbench, the other on his hip, “But it would be a wife.”

You refuse to look at him, it won’t give you anything, just that stupid shiny helmet. But you can hear the smirk in his voice, so you just nod your head.

“Good to know,” you press out, very much focused on rolling the dough to a perfect circle which isn’t strictly necessary.

“And you?” his asks, his low baritone vibrating the air around you as he seems to step even closer. His chest plate isn’t touching you but if you turn your head, your breath will fog on it. “Anyone to cook for you at home?”

“Uhm…no,” you stutter, “just me.”

If this was a normal man you’d expect to turn your head now and look at him and he’d ask if he could kiss you, or he’d lean in closer and just do it. But the helmet is in the way, how the hell is he so flirty with that damn helmet? He does know how to kiss, doesn’t he?

“I’m ju-just going to put this in the oven,” you say, trimming the edges of the pie crust, leaving the scraps of dough on the bench.

“Ok,” he says, still with a smile in his voice, watching as you line the pie with a sheet and then baking beads, before sliding it into the oven.

“What’s next, the filling?” he asks and you nod.

“Yeah, I’m going to zest and squeeze these lemons,” you pick up the one he’s left on the bench and show him how you get the zest off into a bowl.

“Have you had lemons before?” you ask and he nods.

“Yes, I think so, or something similar. But it was very sour,” he bends forward and looks closely at the zest you’ve mixed with some sugar. “It smells good though, do you often use them in pies?”

“Yeah, and they’re amazing in anything baked, as long as you have enough sugar.”

“I trust your skills as a baker,” he says and you smile at him.

“Thanks, I think you’ll really like this.”

He stays still a beat as you turn back to the lemons, “I already do,” he says, a whisper, just loud enough to escape the helmet. For a second you’re not sure he meant for you to hear it, and you let your hands continue squeezing the lemons before giving him a quick glance. It tells you nothing, the man might as well be a statue.

You start separating the eggs, letting the egg whites slip through your fingers, holding onto the yolks, until all five are neatly laying on the bottom of your mixing bowl. The silence is stretching between you and the man, still standing still, leaning slightly on the edge of the workbench. You can feel his eyes on you behind the helmet, watching as you stir together the filling, lemon juice, zest, sugar, corn starch, it all comes together.

“Can I ask you something?” You look up at him, slowly stirring the cubes of butter into the lemon mixture. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to though, it’s kinda personal.”

“Ok,” he says, cocking his head to the left.

“How…h-have…h-ow do you kiss if you can’t take the helmet off?”

He doesn’t move, the blank front of the visor steadily trained on you.

“Nevermind, it was a stupid question, don’t answer that,” you mumble, dropping your gaze back to the filling.

“No, it’s not a stupid question,” he says, and you feel the soft leather of his gloved hand under your chin, tilting it up, back to him. “There are…loopholes…in the creed. I’ve kissed someone, when they couldn’t see my face. But it requires a lot of trust.”

You’re staring at your own reflection in the visor, trying to discern where his eyes are. You wonder if he’s looking at your eyes or your lips, and you wonder what his lips look like.

What they would feel like.

“Does that answer your question?” he asks, that rich, warm baritone, distorted by whatever lets him speak through the helmet, makes your heart flutter, your breath catches in your throat.

“Y-yes…thank you,” you stutter, “yes.”

You bet he’s smiling at you again, as he lets go of your chin and you look back down at the filling.

“I’m going to fill the pie now, and then make the meringue that goes on top.”

“Ok,” he says, “I don’t know what that is but I bet it will be irresistible.”

It makes you smile, at the filling, as it pours, golden and thick, into the pie crust. It settles into a smooth layer, ready for the last step and you place the pie to the side and reach for the egg whites.

“Can I ask you a favor?” you ask and he nods.

“Of course, what is it?”

“The ancient looking mixer, up there, can you reach it?”

He steps behind you, over to the shelf and effortlessly lifts the heavy old Husqvarna machine, it looks almost weightless in his hands. Those hands, inside the soft gloves, are big, almost dwarfing the mixer and the thought crosses your mind, to have those hands on you, wrapped around your waist, or grabbing your thighs, lifting you up as effortlessly as the machine, placing you on the bench, pushing your legs apart and-

He carefully puts it next to you, and moves to stand on your other side. But his hand gently brushes over your back, just a small touch, but it makes you wish it lasted longer, and wasn’t so gentle.

The mixer is loud as you start it, whipping the egg whites into stiff peaks in just a few minutes.

“The trick,” you say, detaching the bowl, “is to whip them until you can hold the bowl upside down over your head and the meringue stays put.” You hold out the bowl to him with a grin, “Do you trust me?”

He chuckles behind the helmet and takes the bowl from your hand, “I guess I do, but you’re polishing the beskar if this falls on me.”

He carefully tips the bowl, holding it over himself, and the meringue stays put, not a drop falls on him and you give him a wide grin.

“I passed the test.”

“You did. Pity, my armor could do with a clean,” he says, his voice serious, but you can hear the smirk in it this time.

“Cheeky,” you laugh, “clean your own armor, I’m making you pie.”

You grab the bowl from him and start scoping out the thick meringue on top of the filling, creating swirls and peaks with your spoon. “It just needs to set now,” you say, taking the pie, “Could you open the fridge door, please?”

He takes a few long strides and works the handle, holding it open for you as you go inside and place the pie on a back shelf.

“I have never seen so many cakes before,” he says, coming in behind you, looking at the shelves of cake bottoms that are defrosting in preparation for your weekend orders.

The door behind you slips closed and the fridge is thrown into darkness.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you that the door needs to be wedged open, the light broke in here and I haven’t gotten round to replacing it,” you say, fumbling towards the door with your hand on the shelves, “I’ll get it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got night vision in my helmet,” he replies matter of factly, and you hear him walk to the door.

“You have night vision in your helmet?” You’re not sure he’s joking or not but judging by how quickly he moves across the small space, he must be seeing something.

“How does the handle work?” he asks as you hear the handle click and catch on something.

“You just pull it against you and it should open,” you say, carefully walking towards the sound of his voice.

“It’s not opening, it sounds as if the handle isn’t latching on correctly”.

“What? No, the door has to open!” You say, panic creeping into your voice, “I can’t…try it again, it has to work!”

You bump into him and his arm comes out around your waist, “Careful, don’t hurt yourself,” he says, his voice suddenly very close to you, steady and soothing, and it calms you down a little.

“Sorry, I’m- I’m not good with small places I can't get out of,” you mumble, holding onto his arm.

“The handle isn’t working, but I promise you, I can very easily get us out of here, don’t be scared.” He must’ve let go of the handle because his other hand comes up to rest on your cheek, the gloved thumb caressing your face with smooth motions. “Don’t be scared, mesh’la,” he says, his voice soft. If you move you think you’ll bump your head against the metal of his helmet, so you close your eyes and focus on his hands. One on your back, the other on your cheek, you take a long steadying breath.

“H-how can you get us out?”

“I have tools for it, in my belt, don’t be scared, I’ll get us out in no time…but…” he trails off, a small hint of uncertainty suddenly in his tone.

“I trust you,” he says, “and I want to kiss you.”

“You’ll take your helmet off?” you ask and in response you hear a low chuckle from inside it.

“Yes, it would be very difficult otherwise.”

“You don’t know that, maybe I’m used to making out with metal,” you say, biting your lip, and you’re rewarded with laughter in the darkness.

“Using my jokes against me, clever,” he smiles as his hands leave you. There’s a click, the soft hiss of air escaping, and you guess his helmet has come off. You feel him bend down, placing it on the ground next to him and standing up again.

“Ca-can you take your gloves off too?” you ask. “Yes,” comes his voice in the lightless room and it makes you inhale. Unfiltered it’s much richer, warmer, but somehow rougher, slipping around you, making you break out in goosebumps as you shiver, no voice has ever made you shiver before and now you want him to keep talking to you, to feel his voice in all your senses. It makes you lift your hands to find him in the darkness but he finds you first.

The soft sound of leather hitting the floor is the next thing you hear before his warm fingertips brush across your shoulder, finding your neck and trailing up over your chin.

“I’m as blind as you now,” he whispers, leaning closer, “tell me where your lips are.”

��Here,” you whisper in reply, taking his hand and guiding it to your mouth. He traces his thumb over your bottom lip, then the top, and you feel his hot breath skim over your skin.

His lips are soft, gentle, as he presses them against yours, a slight tickle of facial hair before he pulls away a fraction.

“Touch me,” he mumbles, “please,” a pleading tone to his voice.

“Where?” you ask, lifting your hands from your sides and searching for him, finding cold metal and a rough flight suit.

“Everywhere, my face, my hair, please touch me.”

He leans his face into your hand as you find his cheek, your other hand slipping around to the nape of his neck, the longer hair winding around your fingers. It’s messy and curly and so silky to the touch that you hum under your breath.

“You're so soft,” you say and it feels like he shakes his head.

“No, you are, can I kiss you again?” he whispers but you don’t reply, just find his lips with yours and he groans into your open mouth, your tongue coming out to taste his lips as he parts them, and you feel his tongue lick against yours.

His kisses are slow, and you match his pace, moving in the same lazy way as him, his tongue exploring and tasting every part of yours. Soft hands have come up to hold you close to him, his fingers in your hair, not letting you move from where he needs you. And it feels like a need, his soft presses turning needy, a soft moan escaping you as he pulls you closer, your whole body pressed up against his hard metal exterior. The contrast makes you feel disembodied, your legs, stomach, chest resting against cool armor, your face, your hands touching, and being touched by warm skin, soft hair, his demanding tongue growing in confidence by the second as he groans under your touch.

He suddenly takes hold of your waist, moving you without effort, pressing you against the door with his whole, tall frame.

“Your kisses are…” he pants, “please, I don’t want to stop, I…I…can’t.”

He’s mumbling between insistent kisses, his tongue dipping into your mouth, tasting, groaning as he needs more with every second that passes. And you would give it to him, you’re moaning into his mouth, pressing into him as eagerly as he’s pushing you up against the door. If he wants to fuck you on the floor of this fridge, you’d let him. His soft lips, rough hands, his heady groans, and when he finally gives in and grinds his hard cock into your hip, it makes you lose all sense of where you are, who you’re with.

“Mesh’la,” he mutters, another kiss on your lips, “Tell me to stop, mesh’la, I can’t stop on my own.” His tongue slips between your lips again and you thread your fingers through his hair and hold him close, keeping him from pulling back again.

“Don’t stop, keep kissing me,” you gasp, his thigh is between your legs, rubbing firm at your aching core.

He growls, his hand coming down to grab hold of your thigh, lifting it up onto his hip, and the door flies open. With a shriek you feel yourself falling backwards, crashing towards the hard kitchen floor. But his arms catches you, you hear the loud clunk as his metal covered legs and arm hits the surface beneath you, the other arm secure around your waist. “Don’t open your eyes,” he snaps, panic in his voice, and you squeeze your eyes shut, they almost flew open as he caught you. “I won’t, they’re closed, they’re closed,” you pant, the air knocked out of you.

“I’m going to put you down and then get my helmet, don’t move until I say so,” he says, still close, gently lowering you down to the floor.

“Ok,” you nod, staying still. But you don’t hear him above you, and his arm is still at your side. When he does move his chest comes flat against your own, his nose brushing over your cheek, bumping into yours, and then his lips are on yours again. Soft, warm, pliant, his beard tickling you, open mouth and gentle tongue, tasting and exploring with a low hum in his chest. When he finally pulls away and pushes himself up, you feel the loss of his lips like an imprint on your own, your fingers come up and trace across them, touching where he just was.

From the fridge you hear the click of his helmet being put in place and then his footsteps come back.

“You can open your eyes again,” he says, “thank you for keeping them closed.”

You blink your eyes open and look up at him, his face again hidden behind the visor, his expression unreadable. But his voice is soft and he holds out his hand to you, his gloves not on yet. You take it and he helps you to your feet, one arm around your waist as you find your balance again. Looking down at the hand holding yours, you trace your fingers along the thin white scars that crisscross the back of his tan skin. His hand is rugged, the pads of his fingertips rough and well used. It’s hard to imagine that these hands could touch you so softly in the dark.

“I…I hope I didn’t ask too much,” he hesitates as you keep touching his hand, holding it between your own, “I never kissed anyone like that before.”

“I liked it,” you mumble, looking up at his visor, his hand still between yours. “I’ve never kissed anyone like that before either. And I don’t even know what your name is.”

“Din,” he says, his voice low, like he’s telling you something guarded, “My name is Din, but I don’t tell many people that.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” you say and he nods, placing his hand on your cheek again. “Thank you, mesh’la.”

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Din,” you say, trying to find his eyes behind the black visor.

“I don’t think there’s any of my kind on your world,” he says with a small chuckle and you frown. “What do you mean, ‘your world’?”

He shakes his head, “Don’t think about it, it doesn’t matter, I just want to try your dessert now, like you promised,” his hand slips down to yours and he takes it, tugging you back towards the fridge, “Is it done yet?”

“Uuhm…yeah, I just need to torch the top a bit,” you say, confused, as he opens the fridge door again.

“I’ll hold it open this time,” Din tilts his head down towards you as you pass him, his hand trailing over your hand as you let go of him. The pie jiggles slightly when you tap it, so you pick it up and carefully bring it to the workbench again. Din closes the fridge door behind you and follows you back.

“I’ve never smelt anything like it,” he hums as you reach into your tools and pull out the small blow torch.

“Just wait until you taste it,” you smile, turning on the gas and igniting the torch. Din’s hand flies up to grab at your arm as the flame comes out but stops as he realizes what you’re doing.

“I have one of those too,” he chuckles, “But mine’s a bit bigger.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve used yours,” you grin and he shakes his head.

“It would’ve burnt down your kitchen, it's not really meant for this delicate work,” you can hear the smirk as he leans forward and looks on as you carefully caramelize the top of the meringue, painting the white swirls in toasty brown.

“There, it’s done,” you say as you turn off the blow torch and put it aside, “you’re very first dessert, a lemon meringue pie.”

“I can’t wait to try it,” he replies as you take down two plates, spoons and your sharpest knife.

“How do you want to eat it?” you ask, cutting a generous slice for him, bigger than you would serve to the customers. He looks at the pie for a few seconds and then cocks his head and looks at you. “I trust you,” he says, the smile in his voice evident under the unreadable helmet, “we can sit back to back and you can at least hear my reaction.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with,” you hold out the plate to him and he lifts it up to eye level, looking closely at the bright yellow filling and white meringue on top.

“I’m sure, I trust you. And I want you to be happy when you hear my reaction.”

“I hope you like it then,” you laugh, “Or this is going to be very awkward.”

“If it tastes only half as good as it smells, this will be the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” he takes your hand and pulls you down onto the floor, you begin to protest that you have chairs but he just shrugs and sits down, crossing his legs with his back against you. You sink down behind him, crossing your legs too. “Lean against me, mesh’la,” he says, “and don’t turn around.”

“I won’t, I promise,” you rush out as you hear a soft woosh of air from the helmet.

“I know,” he replies, his voice unfiltered and rich again, a low baritone that seems to send a shiver down your spine. The spoon clinks on his plate and he seems to hesitate.

“I just put my spoon in it?” he asks and it makes you smile.

“Yes, just get some of everything, and tell me what you think.”

You hear the rustle of his flight suit as he seems to move around a little, it’s almost as if he’s trying to figure out how to tackle the slice on his plate. Eventually you hear the spoon scrap over the plate again as he cuts off a bite.

You listen intently, wishing you could see his expression, as he silently tastes the pie.

“Maker…” he breathes out after a few seconds, the spoon clinking again against the plate and you hear him take another bite.

“Maker….” his mouth full and the word is muffled, “this is…” the spoon scrapes over the plate and you hear him take one more mouthful. His head leans against yours as he tips it back, sighing deeply.

“Maker…I’ve never tasted anything like this before,” he groans, “It’s fresh and rich and sweet, how have I never tasted something like this before?”

“Because you’re a fool, obviously,” you laugh, taking a bite for yourself. You know this pie is good but Din’s reaction makes you feel giddy. Behind you, you hear him take another spoonful, humming as he savors the flavors.

“I am a fool,” he says after swallowing down another bite, “this is like nothing else. I want to eat only this for the rest of my life.”

“That might not be the healthiest choice,” you chuckle, “and wait until you try chocolate, that’s on a whole other level again.”

“Thank you,” he says from behind you, his hand reaching back and finding your arm, “Thank you for making this, I’m grateful.”

“No trouble, I like seeing how much you enjoy it, especially since you’ve never had dessert before, you strange man.”

At that you hear him laugh, “I’m not that strange, just maybe on your world, mesh’la.”

“What does that word mean?” you ask, “Mesh’la?”

“I’ll tell you, if you give me more pie,” his voice is so cheeky it makes you laugh out loud.

“I’ve got you addicted it seems,” you reply and he chuckles behind you, “I’ll keep my eyes closed and you can take as much as you want, take the whole pie.”

“I can’t do that,” he says as you feel him shift behind you, getting to his feet.

“Of course you can, you should take it, I can make another.”

“I would argue with you, but the pie is too good,” he sinks down behind you again and this time you hear his spoon scrape over the metal of the pie form.

“Din?” you ask and he stiffens.

“Yes?”

“Are you eating straight from the form?”

“Is…Is that wrong?”

“No,” you laugh, “just a very good review of my pie.”

He chuckles again, relaxing against your back as he takes another mouthful. Together you sit in silence, eating the pie, cross legged on the floor of your kitchen. Yours is soon gone and you happily listen to your strange guest hum and moan as he all but seems to demolish the rest of the pie. Maybe you should tell him to pace himself, but he seems to be enjoying himself immensely.

After a few more moments the pie form is placed on the floor and Din groans, “I’m so full, but I want to eat more.”

“I should’ve told you to go slow,” you smile, “but just take whatever you didn’t finish with you.”

“Hmm…I…I ate the whole thing,” he says sheepishly and you giggle.

“You might feel a bit sick in a while, but don’t blame me. But I really love how much you loved it.”

“I’ll come back for more pie whenever I can,” he says, finding your arm with his hand again, “Please keep your eyes closed.”

“I’ll make sure to have it on the menu all the time then,” you smile, your eyes squeezed shut.

Behind you, you feel him move and turn, his warm hand coming up to cup your face, a thumb sliding over your cheek. His lips are soft and gentle as he brushes them against yours, his tongue slipping out, your mouth opening. He tastes of sharp lemon, sugar and butter, and underneath, his own self. He lets himself linger for a few moments, his nose stroking over your cheek, before he pulls back, your eyes still firmly closed. The click of his helmet lets you know that he’s once more covered up and you open your eyes, slightly sad that he can’t let you see his face, you’d love to see what those soft lips look like.

“I should go,” he says, a tinge of regret in his voice, “I have other things I need to see to before I leave.” He takes your hands and helps you stand, the remains of the pie forgotten on the floor as you follow him out to the front of the bakery.

“This….was wizard…” he mumbles in a low voice, yet again standing by the door, “I’ve never…experienced something like this.”

“Me either, Din,” you mumble, suddenly very sad that he’s leaving, “Promise that you’ll come back some day.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise,” he says, his hand, gloved now, comes up to caress your cheek one last time.

He turns and puts his hand on the handle and something hits you, “Wait, hang on, just wait there.”

You rush back behind the counter and grab one of your bread bags and quickly put four croissants into it.

“Here,” you say, holding it out to him as you get back to the door, “For the road, or whatever you’re doing.”

He takes it, cocking his head to look down at the bag before he looks up at you again, “You’re going to make my armor fit very tight.” “Hey, I didn’t tell you to eat the entire pie in one sitting,” you grin and from behind the helmet comes a low chuckle.

“I still blame you for baking something far too irresistible.”

“Take care, Din, I hope I see you again sometime.”

“Me too, mesh’la,” he says, giving you a nod and opening the front door.

Part Three

If you want to try Din's Lemon Meringue Pie, here's the recipe I used!

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #the mandalorian

221 notes · View notes

hanniluvi · 5 months

Text

( 🎬 ) — KNOW ME ; HEESEUNG SHORT FIC

“ this liquors got me faded, talking crazy ”

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 spending a night with your drunk best friend makes you realize you don’t know them as well as you think you do. because, if you knew him, you would’ve known about his feelings for you.

— PAIRING best-friend!hee x best-friend!fem!reader

— GENRE angst, one sided love (or is it), friends 2 ???

— WARNINGS INSPIRED BY “KNOW ME” BY DPR LIVE, drinking n hee gets drunk (reader doesnt)

— WORD COUNT 0.8K+ ( 863 )

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 hi guys 😊🤍 back on that angst writing grind (i may or may not have lied) bc i love angst !!! anyways i love love love know me by dpr live 😜

Heeseung had a particularly stressful day, prompting him to drown his worries in alcohol during your planned hangout. You've observed his increasing tension over the past few days, leading to the drinking session. Hesitant to pry, you intervened as he reached for another shot, expressing concern about his consumption. "Isn't this your fourth bottle? That seems like quite a lot, don't you think?"

"No, it isn't," he hiccupped, attempting to retrieve the bottle as you evaded his grasp.

"You don't have a high alcohol tolerance, Hee," you chuckled, observing him rest his head on the table. Concerned, you asked, "What's been bothering you lately? Is it work?"

“Do you really think it’s because of work?” Heeseung raised his head, glasses slipping down, purple hair almost covering his eyes. With a flushed face, he maintained intense eye contact. Confused, you responded, "Huh?"

"Do you trust what I say?" he slurred, the effects of alcohol evident in his words.

"Of course I do—why wouldn't I?" you reassured.

"Maybe you shouldn't," he mumbled. Perplexed, you asked, "Hee, what are you saying?"

"How much do you think you know about me?" he posed a sudden question, causing you to pause. “Do you even know me?”

"I think I know a lot. I know of your favorite drink, our favorite show, your ice cream order—everything I should know. What don't I know?" you responded.

"How much I think and stress about you. How I look at you, how I take care of you, how I pay so much attention to you…If you knew me—you’d know that too." he admitted, slumping back against the wall and closing his eyes. Stunned by the unexpected confession, you froze. "I don't... I don't understand what you mean by that."

"I worry about us, mainly I worry about myself. Why? Because you're all I think about," he continued, his honesty cutting through the room. You listened, sensing the urgency of what he needed to let out of his chest.

Heeseung took a deep breath, grappling with the unspoken. Feeling his eyelids droop, he still continues on. "There are things I've never shared, thoughts that consume me. I know we promised to be there for each other when we needed anything, and I'm sorry for breaking it. But, I really couldn't find a way to tell you this. I need you to understand that I've tried my best to ignore these feelings, but I can't."

Opening his eyes, he held your gaze. "I think I like you, YN." The revelation hung in the air, leaving the room charged with unspoken emotions.

“You like me?”

“Yeah. I fell deep. I fell for everything about you–your smile, your jokes, your calmness, everything. You’re practically perfect. Just…just give me a chance you love you right.”

Heeseung's revelation weighed heavily on you, rendering you momentarily speechless. His intense gaze held yours, making it challenging to find the right words. After a gulp, you broke eye contact and finally uttered, "Wow, Hee... I'm at a loss for words. I don’t even know what to say." The room resonated with the gravity of unspoken emotions, and uncertainty hung thick in the air.

"What do you mean?" Heeseung wore a confused expression, not expecting this response. This was not like those sweet drunken confessions—had he perhaps drunk too much? You intervened, cutting through his thoughts.

"I really appreciate that you are being honest with me—and I wish you would’ve told me sooner," you expressed, your eyes slightly glimmering, your stomach tying itself into knots. Was he going to get the answer he yearned for?

"Because?" Heeseung slurred, staring at you, hopeful for those sweet words. A heavy silence descended upon the room, carrying the weight of unspoken feelings and the acknowledgment of a friendship forever altered.

"But Hee, you know I can't love you back," you whispered, the truth hanging heavily in the air.

Heeseung froze. "Oh." The disappointment in his voice echoed through the room, marking the poignant end of a hope that had lingered in the unspoken spaces between you. He was just confused. What did you both know?

Heeseung never wanted to be pushy, but the words eventually spilled out. "Did you…find someone better? Or don’t feel the same way…?" He just wanted closure.

"Heeseung, you're drunk," you frowned slightly, a sad glint in your eyes that couldn't go unnoticed.

"So?" he hiccuped.

"I’ll...I’ll tell you later, yeah? Let’s just get you home." As you were about to get up, Heeseung's shoulders slumped as he sighed, a sense of disappointment and vulnerability washing over him. "I just needed to be honest with you, YN...so why can’t you be honest with me?”

"I'm glad you're honest with me…" you said as you put his coat onto him, watching him look up at you as you did so. “And I can’t tell you right now. You just—you just deserve way better.”

"So you’re telling me that I'll just have to find someone who will love me like I do for you, right?" Heeseung managed a faint smile, though sadness lingered in his eyes. “If that’s what you want.”

"I'm sorry, Heeseung," you apologized, the weight of the moment palpable. Your vision was slightly getting blurrier by the second. "I really am."

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

235 notes · View notes

overgrown3d · 9 months

Text

Who are you in their eyes? (PAC)

💭How does your friend, partner, crush, colleague, family member, or anyone in your mind view you? REMINDER! This is a general reading & purely their perception of you, take what resonates.

✨How to select your pile?✨

1. Slow your breathing, taking deep inhales. Focus on feeling present in your environment.

2. Looking from left to right, use your intuition to pick the pile meant for you (what you connect most with.)

3. Doesn't resonate? No worries! Pick another, it's message may be just right for you.

!!For Entertainment Purposes Only!!

Pile 1 -> Pile 2

Pile 3 -> Pile 4

🍃Pile 1 ;

Cards: 8 of Wands, Queen of Swords, Queen of Pentacles, King of Pentacles, 6 of Cups

The person in your mind could be someone from your past, perhaps a childhood friend, a classmate, or a family member. If not from your past, either you or them remind each other of a person you guys used to know, maybe they even perform a hobby you dropped, just something from the past. There is a lot of nostalgia here, and the reason why is because they possibly watched you grow up, or knew you from the past and reconnected again in the future, and they are shocked by how well you seem to be doing. The first thing I heard is "I'm so proud of you." They think you are somewhat of a go-getter, and most certainly financially stable. They perceive you as someone who invested a lot of time and effort in developing yourself. This energy feels so nice! They just think you're super mature, that you handle problems well, you're emotionally mature, etc. You just have your shit together, according to them. You may be able to "feel like a kid again", and overall have a lot of fun with this person, and they think the same. It's giving the vibe of "Wow, it's been that long, huh?" Overall, what they think of you is purely positive, and pretty lighthearted!

~~~~🍃

🍀Pile 2 ;

Cards: 3 of swords, 10 of swords, Page of wands, Queen of Pentacles , 8 of Swords

They think you're STRONG. From perception, they think that you've gone through something completely heartbreaking and life-changing, then brushed off your knees and got going again. They think you have such a strong demeanor, like I'm hearing "After all that?" They sense that you've gone through something transformative, like they see that spark in your eyes to use your heartbreak as a reason to strive. This could be letting go of old habits and past traumas. They are honestly baffled how you can keep going. They think you endured a lot emotionally, or resurfaced from a pretty dark place. You're pretty financially okay to them, or near the path to being there. This person could actually be someone that helped you as you were going through your struggles, providing an opportunity for you. You're like a go-getter, not settling for anything other than what you deserve.

~~~~🍃

🍀Pile 3 ;

Cards: Temperance, Page of Pentacles, 7 of Pentacles, 3 of Pentacles, The Emperor, Ace of Swords

The person you're thinking about may be a mentor, a teacher, or someone with experience and influence that gives you a lot of inspiration. I get very strongly that they passed down some intellect to you. They think you're starting out in a new field, but already low-key mastering it lmao. You're going to be pretty bloody quick to succeed. To them, you are pretty focused on yourself, perhaps focusing greatly on aligning your career to your passions, and working hard in all aspects of your life. I'm hearing "They have a lot of potential." so they view you as a person with a lot of skills and expect you to quickly master anything new. They think you are well-rounded and leading a pretty average lifestyle, actually. They think that you're certainly passionate, but not dreaming very big for your future. You're a balanced person in their eyes, very reliable. At first, they would think you're shy or socially awkward haha. They might even be shocked at your progress, like you'll outdo the master!

~~~~🍃

🍀Pile 4 ;

Cards: 2 of Cups, Queen of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, Wheel of Fortune.

While shuffling your cards, a bunch flew out super quick! This person would form a strong opinion of you upon first meeting you, and if you know this person closely already, they would be quick to answer if someone asks what they think of you. You are someone that would've stood out for them, even in mind. They perceive you as someone sociable, seeing you around other people very often. They think you have a stable income or can afford to be leisurely and have fun, and that you were born privileged. They think you're pretty lucky tbh, I'm hearing "They won in life". I'm getting a vibe that this person may be insecure about their assets, or at least need to develop themselves emotionally. They think they are out of your league, and that you are going to be veryyyy different from them, like a whole different level. They think that you've got good habits, they idolize you a bit imho. Looking past that, they think that both you and them have a lot to learn from each other. They think you're steady in life, while also fun-loving. This could be a romantic interest, but this also applied well for platonic relationships!

~~🍃 You reached the end of the reading, 'till next time!

#tarotblr #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarot #pac #pick a pile #pick a card

368 notes · View notes

silvershiningtarot · 8 months

Text

💋👏🏾PAC18: Words To Describe Y’all Dymanic With You and Spouse 🌟

❤️‍🔥Take a moment to breathe in and out because this is about words describing your dynamic while you two get to know each other. Remember this is a general reading. Take what resonates and what doesn't. If you want a personal reading DM OR if you have any questions you can message me as well.

Pile 1: While you two get to know each other, The Love for you both will continue. Okay, you two will help each other open up. I feel that you or they dealt with a lot of false promises from toxic people. I believe that they have this type of mentality that “Fuck what people say.” They have trust issues so do you. I have a sense you two are guarded up. I have a sense that you two have trust issues. That's why you both will open each other up while you get to know them and vice versa. I heard “Interference”. So there might be outsiders that will try to fuck with y'all. Your friends might interrupt you and your spouse while you guys are talking. I heard “Your friends like them”. Or their friends might cock block them. What I mean by that is that when your Spouse is flirting with you their friends come over and interrupt them. Both of you will have a happy ending. A lot of cycles will be ending while you two get to know each other. I heard “They love talking to you.” I am getting mercurial vibes from this dynamic. See! There is some type of revengeful shit. I believe that you'll have a lot of interference. I am getting this feeling of this dark cloud of this friend, family, or someone who got some hatred shit in their heart. What's that word?! Oh, that's right envy. Whoever this person is that needs to be cut off. I am getting jealous vibes from whoever side whether it is from yours or theirs. See! I was right, you aren't gonna be feeling yourself because of a lack of confidence. I heard “They'll compliment you.” Your Spouse will compliment you all the time just to boost your confidence. Again, you two are here to help each other. Once, you start feeling yourself you are going to have a new perspective about things. See things with clear eyes. You are going to rethink things about your life. They'll be there to support you. You'll realize that you never had a person who does that. While you get to know them I feel that it will be love at first sight with you two. I heard “This might be your twin flame.” So again, your spouse might be your twin flame for some of you. You two will grow together. You both will have great chemistry with each other. They'll love your flaws to the dark and the light. They'll feel comfortable with you. Talking to you, sharing secrets, and letting you run their company or business with them. You two will give each other that genuine love. Even if this was your friend first. Wow, again, tell you everything. You two have a telepathic connection. You'll spiritually awaken them. Both of you I believe will be spiritually awakened. You'll be a part of their business meetings. What did I say? Huh? You'll make them comfortable with you. I can hear them say “You wanna be partners with me?” Or I am getting a sense that they are their boss. Yes! While you get to know them I heard your voice “I'm glad I've got to know you better.” Oh yeah, you'll start feeling fresh with them. You'll be moving forward with them and accepting the past for what it is. I believe it with them too. I keep hearing that the universe is on both of y’all sides. They'll bring you happiness. This dynamic with them is going to feel like a breath of fresh air 💨. While you two get to know each other it is both of you new beginnings and a fresh start. You two will take that leap to each other. I got this feeling that they automatically trust you. I know it sounds crazy saying that but I got this vibe from them saying “I’ve trusted you.” They'll start blocking accounts, changing numbers, and making changes in their life and vice versa. You and your Spouse would want to make a family of Y’all own. I've heard your Spouse “No more waiting.” I think in their mind they've been planning a future with you. Your Spouse is part of your soul tribe. That's why you two will make your tribe bigger. I just wanna mention this real quick Marriage came out like four times. Marriage for sure. See! Just like how they lack confidence in themselves. But whenever they are around you their masculinity comes out. “I’ve felt the need to protect you.”

Most of you I've believed this is the soulmate you are meeting. They wanna grow old with you and I am hearing that song in my head. I think that's exactly how they feel you are. So beautiful you are. “Every day I'll call you pretty for the rest of my life if I have to. That's how much you mean to me.” Damn, I think you and Your Spouse have been through some shit together and before. They'll be your emotional support. Look at that! Haha, The Husband's card came out. They want to be a good husband to you. Even when you two argue they'll love you no matter what. While you get to know them they dealt or dealing with this manipulative female. I've heard a boss! Look at that Tying the knot 🪢 Oh yeah, I feel that they are planning on putting a ring 💍 on your finger. “If you like put a ring on it.” That's the song that came into my head Beyoncè-Put A Ring On It. Anyways, they feel that you are their destiny. Yes! Confirmation, again, blocked exes, bosses, etc. They are street-smart. They are a hustler or you might be street-smart. They might put you as CEO of their company. They like how much you two are a great teammate. Aww, they'll be crushing you on. While they are getting to know you. So far this dynamic is speechless to me. I also feel that you two might be doing business on the side. Like not to where an industry knows about it. Which is smart to me. Yes! Realization, You two will be retreating going away for a while. I think you guys might have this retreat place like a house or camp you two decide to buy and that will be y'all peace home together. If that makes sense. Most of you, I believe that you might relocate somewhere else. You'll come to terms with everything and vice versa. I told you! They'll be head over heels for you. Both of you will be excited around each other. You two have this unbreakable bond. It's going to feel like love at first sight for you both. Aww, “I'm happy that I found you once again.” Some of you may know who is your Spouse but most of you don't. That's okay, I am getting a vibe they would want to be your Prince Charming. They want to be your king. They'll take you on a romantic getaway. Haha 😂, they'll be sending you some selfie 🤳 trap just to tease you. What's that word? Oh yeah, thirst trap. Lol. I believe some of your Spouses are a womanizer. They know how to charm their way into a woman's arms 💪🏾 but with you, it's like they have to work hard. Netflix and Chill. Both of you will be chilling at home together and they'll be smoking weed 🌿. You might lose your Virgin when you are smoking weed. They won't take advantage of you, I doubted. But they love chilling with you. I swear there are a lot of dirty selfies they'll be sending you, haha 😂 Oh my goodness. One thing I know for sure they are attracted to you. They don't like to fight with you. The second they fight with you, they'll be quick to make amends with you. I am getting the vibe of a submissive man like their aura. Or they don't like confrontation. Whenever you are mad at them. They'll do anything to make you smile. I mean Anything. I can see them buying you food 🍕. I can see the dynamic between you and your Spouse. It is genuine, compassionate, compromising, honest, and self-love. I can see that you two will do anything for each other. I meant everything. See! You two dealt or are going to deal with a lot of toxic people. I do feel that this is a third-party situation. There's a lot of interference here. You two are good company to each other. So I don't blame you or your Spouse for doing getaways. Maybe, there will be some bills that haven't been paid yet. So you two might have some money issues. But see! You two will be honest with each other. You'll have a heart-to-heart conversation with them. A lot of triggers will be happening in this dynamic. I think that they took in their brother’s kids like their nieces or nephews. Friends and Family will help you guys out with the financial issues. I think that in my opinion, your whole soul tribe will come in. Look at that! Ultimate Friendship. This is your best friend.

That's why I think that your Spouse is your best friend and you both will tell each other everything. I believe that for most of you, this is your soulmate. No matter what this is your friend but this is like love at first sight with your friend. I think that you guys might be friends first. Aww, ultimately yours is your true love whether you believe it or not. I know some of you have doubt issues but it's okay. They'll be your cheerleaders and you can always let your guard down with them. I have a sense that they'll be hella supportive of you. Vice versa. You can be vulnerable with them and they'll be the same with you. Aww, didn't that come out? Make your own family. Look at that We as A Family. You both are going to make y'all family line together. Even through marriage. The dynamic between you two is intense. Fate Destined! This is been written in the stars. You both have been manifesting this dynamic for a long time. You communicate clearly what you are and vice versa. They are your romantic mentors. They are here to teach you, support you, and give you freedom and comfort. I mean look at that confirmation. Aw, you guys will send each other cute memes and funny memes too. Honestly, believe that you two will be connected to y'all higher self. I have a sense that you might be spiritual for some of you and most of you I believe that they are spiritual ones. I got a sense that either you or them have this narcissistic behavior. That's fine because as long you've learned how to control it then you two will be fine. Everybody has narcissistic behavior it just comes out in different ways. I believe it's their Ego. You two are defensive. Both of you will trigger each other and that's why you both will have your ups and downs in this dynamic. There are certain things you might see they aren't seeing in themselves so of course it will trigger them. This is an instant recognition. Healing connection as well. You two are each other's perfect match. I believe that this is your past life Spouse. A lot of harmony between you two. 9D Realms. This is a high-vibe soulmate dynamic and it is slowly coming down. I was right! For some of you, it is a twin flame Union. This is your twin Flame but they came down as your romantic soulmate. See! Soulmate Recognition, This is your true love but there's just interference you two have to cut off. They would wanna grow old with you. This is probably your star & soul family too. I mean wow 😮. I heard them say “In the next life I wanna be with you again. Wherever you go, I will follow you.” They'll automatically fall in love with you. Both of you have your soul contract. There are some cycles you have to clear with people and with each other.

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Pile 2: Okay, it seems that you two dealt with two-faced ass people. I think your Spouse dealt with false love. I believe that they have an idea of what love means to them by someone else version of love. They'll be masculine evolving. Or I got a sense that they are mature. They know how to accept things the way things are. But I do feel that sometimes you two relive the past over again🤫. I believe that sometimes you two doubt this dynamic but you both have to trust in the process. Take that chance this was meant for you. I think a lot of their friends and family cut them off or should I say not talk to them. I think this dynamic is divine timing. I feel that both of you can't get over the past but I believe that you'll help them heal the past and vice versa. So this dynamic I am getting a sense that this is good 😊. They want a fresh start and they'll block out any toxic energy that comes their way. See this is a past life regression. So I know that they ain't gonna like arguing with you. The second you are mad at them. They are quick to make amends with you and vice versa. They'll be buying you gifts 🧧. There's a lot of things from you two will remember from the past like in this life and other life before that if that makes sense what I am saying. See! I believe your Spouse is mature enough to handle certain things in their past. They are dedicated to you and committed to you. They have eyes only for you and they wouldn't want nobody else but you. I am hearing a song in my head "I don't want nobody but you, kissing on my tattoo." So they'll do anything to protect you. Both of you will have a magical connection it is very dreamy and I am getting Neptune's vibes. Both of you have an unbreakable bond. They want a fresh start with you and the dynamic between you two ❣️ is going to be a new beginning and I swear the selfie 🤳 trap lol 😂 they'll be sending you sexy photos and thirst trap they are. They like teasing you. Wow secret pregnancy so you might get pregnant in secret but that's okay. I heard that they will be excited about it. But I believe that you'll be scared 😨 so you might keep that news to yourself. Until you are ready to tell someone about your pregnancy. It is a bit similar to Pile 1 but I am getting more romantic vibes from this one pile 💗 like again, with the realization. Spiritual retreat and I think you and your Spouse will go away for a while. I hear a couple of months you two will go away. You two will be awakening and come to terms with it all. Look at that Happily ever after. You two would want to be together forever ♾️ you both will overcome these challenges 🙏 and look at that pregnant again. I think that you might get pregnant again. Financial issues 💔 so you might be going through some money problems. Both of you will rebuild your business back up. See! I don't think you guys have support system and I think that's why you two go away a lot. Both of you will be on the right path . So I can see them being positive about things. I have a vibe from them having an optimistic mindset. "Don't worry everything is gonna be okay." Or you two might relocate somewhere else. Just to get away from everyone 😭. Oh, the fuck well. I feel like there is a lot of pause/delays in things. Maybe, it is not the right timing for you two. I got a sense of a makeup and breakup couple vibes. For some I do but for Most of you, I believe that your Spouse will be charming and they want a fresh start with you and that new beginning. So your Spouse has females on their dick! Because they are sneaking into your Spouse's hotel. These groupies are dangerous. Look at the dynamic between you and your Spouse will have a marriage Completion. You'll have a happily ever after with your husband and there's a solution with your husband and you two will make it happen. I heard them say “If you want it. Let's go get that shit.” so if you two break up I don't see you guys breaking up maybe for like a few hours then coming back to each other. Isn't that fucking amazing? You are their blessing in the sky and you are their miracle.

🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

Pile 3: Okay, I am getting a sense that the dynamic between you and your Spouse is intense but amazing. I feel like your husband is a warrior. I'm getting a military vibe or again, they can be just a strong-headed man/woman. They are charming as hell. They'll sweep you off your feet like that. They are a big flirt. I don't see them flirting with anyone else but you. I do feel like once they are with you. They are committed to you. This fucking karmic ass friend making me mad. I have a sense that this is a gaslighter friend. They'll cut this person off for you and this friend isn't gonna like you. In my opinion, who fucking gives a shit! Fuck them. This friend is a trickster and they are pretenders they trick your husband all the time. Asking them for money. This friend doesn't support your husband. I can hear this bad friend's thoughts “Why is she/he in your ear like that? I thought we were friends.” Eww, I don't like friends that do that. So it makes your husband feel bad sometimes. I can see that you are trying to support your husband but it's like I am getting a sense that you want to back off but you wanna help your husband/wife out. They have to realize what's best for their self. Or again, that can be on your side. I feel like this dynamic between you and your husband/wife is going to be heavily passionate and attractive! They are balanced with their masculinity. Whenever they look at you they have dirty thoughts about you and they crave for you. “Baby, you turn me. I love your lips and smile, and everything about you is special. Your smile brights up my world. Do you know that?” I am getting a channeled message from your Husband/wife. If you wanna hear them here it is

“Do you know how special you are? You make my day. I love your heart I wanna keep your heart safe and secure. I know my life is fucked up but I just wanna thank you for supporting me and encouraging me to keep it pushing. I'll do anything for you. You name it and I'll do it for you. Because you make me the proudest and luckiest man/woman in the world. You are my future. You brightened up my life. Nah, fuck that you are my future. You are sweet to me. I never met someone like you in my life. All I can lose it all and I don't care.”

So now you understand the type of dynamic between you and your Spouse it is so emotional and beautiful🚼. I feel like you two will make a vow for each other and this is your best friend and they might give you a promise ring. Ahh! Eternal love ❤️ you two will ascend to the highest level. And this is your new beginning with your Spouse. A lot of accepting, forgiving, and moving forward.

#pac reading #tarot reading #free tarot reading #fs pick a pile #tarot cards #pick a pile #divination readings #intuitive readings #love reading #pac reblog #adult only #adult entertainers #+18 or +adult only #paid readings #free readings #Spotify

323 notes · View notes

soapoet · 11 months

Text

quick energy reading #0601

short and sweet for your convenience.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

you'd be a gold medalist if overcoming obstacles was an olympic sport. it's really been one thing after the other, huh? i sense some snakes in your garden, but they'll never harm your roses unless you let them. safeguard your energy and don't feel guilty if you need to weed certain people out of your life. if something or someone has overstayed their welcome and no longer support the life you want to lead, let them go. you deserve much better than what you've been getting, in all areas of your life. take some time when you can in june and turn inwards. honour your soul and give praise to the good deeds and qualities with your name on them. you haven't given yourself a genuine, honest pep talk in a while. and i'm not talking about affirmations repeated compulsively on the go and in your darkest hours. genuinely stop and have a word with yourself. show yourself how beautiful you are and don't stop until you break the barrier around your heart and bring yourself to tears. those tears will help you heal your self-worth and help you rise to the next level. you are strong and beautiful, so don't let the world wear your heart down.

02.

look at you! filled to the brim with marvellous ideas. have your projects been stalling lately? if you've been lacking in resources, the way forward should be clear soon. don't be afraid of asking for help when you need it. you should see your words and actions towards others reciprocated soon. buckle up and get ready for new opportunities in june, especiallyif you've felt like a rock to everyone around you lately, whilst being left to drift at sea alone when you've needed a rock, too. make sure it's not all work and no play this month. you may find inspiration in your oldest joys, so seek out nostalgia and let it fuel your soul. if you procrastinate, don't beat yourself up over it. it's okay, i promise. if you need a breather then take it, and do not entertain any feelings of shame or guilt over it. if someone calls you lazy, just smile and wave. you know your energy reserves the best. can you do the thing when you're at 50%? sure, but if you'd rather take the time to charge up to 100% before you dive back in, then so be it. don't let anyone tell you how and when to do what and why. you're the main character of your own life, and you reserve the right to act like it.

03.

wow. your energy is highly magnetic. be careful with your thoughts and feelings in june, as your manifestations are happening faster, and i see that there may be lots of things testing your patience. remember that you're not responsible for your first reaction to situations, but the second one is all on you. step back and into the role of the observer to avoid the drama around you. when something less than ideal occurs, just say "damn, that's crazy", then move along. life is too short to get stuck on hiccups. there are bigger, better things in store for you. keep your goals in your peripheral where you can still see them regardless of the 3d, and glance over to them and show gratitude towards them throughout the day, especially when what's in front of you looks a little rough. i also feel the need to tell you that you're beautiful. like, there is something ethereal about you. if you've been manifesting things related to your appearance, energetically it's showing tenfold! avoid getting hung up on any perceived flaws. they're simply not there.

#energy reading #spiritual guidance #pac reading #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick a card #soapy.post

266 notes · View notes

crying-fantasies · 3 months

Text

Love fantasy

Masterlist

It all started as a normal cycle, he swears on his spark that it was an innocent and normal cycle.

"I interfaced with one of the humans".

Until it wasn't.

No bot can verify the fact but all are equally flabbergasted at the statement, humans are still a novelty aboard, it has been only a few earth years since they arrived to the starship and while friendships and primitive market of products are normal to see nowadays it still doesn't stop one or two glass cubes from shattering against the floor of Swerve's or the high grade that has gone down the wrong pipe by the mere words formed by Fizzle's vox.

No bot asked, no one even knew, no one really noticed him gone from the ship or when he came back but now they all have their attention at him even when he simply said it to the bot next to him, but gossiping, no matter species, is a big deal among sentient beings.

"You're lying"

"No!", almost sensing the others receptor audials over him he can only try to cover his EMF as close to his frame as possible, spoiler coiled near to his armor in a display of nervousness, "it was- it was out of this world, okay? And- and then she was-"

"It was a human femme?!"

Again, some were at their seats end, some again chocking on their drinks, others feeling their fans activate, everybot has seen for themselves how soft humans are, and even heard from the same humans that some are most soft than others.

Human femmes- er, woman and alike, were supposed to be the peak of softness, even human primitive communication devices (porn and magazines) said so!

"Primus dammit- do you want everybot to hear about it?", oh yes, please say more was something resonating among the processors of the most curious in the theme and the most deviant of them that had also thought of some organic colleagues in such a way, of course, Fizzle didn't had to know, and in some way it was his fault to talk about such a thing like a sparkling sharing secrets in a public area when the Lost Light was so big.

"Okay, okay, go on, what did she do?", there was silence, one that preceded the proton storm while Fizzle's spoiler raised back again in excitement to remember the exchange.

"...she played with my wires and with my spark"

If the two bots didn't know they were being eavesdropped before now they knew after a few bots cracked their glasses full of energon at the mere mention of the interface related activity, making they almost scape even when some bots wanted to keep hearing and asked them to come back, because it was the discovery of the century, well, almost, but it was still of great interest nonetheless for most of them!

"Wow, that was crazy, huh, Roddy?", Drift tries to ignore the other bots still remaining in the bar and their obnoxiously loud fans, hardly covering the growing charge on their EMF and now heated frames trying to seem as undisturbed as possible.

Even Rodimus, who stops as hard as he can his cooling fans, servos being negated of the littlest possibility to even shake at how hard his spark is pulsing, "Uhum".

First of the questions running around his processor is who was it? Fizzle doesn't even have any game going on or perceived by his optics to be able to drag along another mech on his habsuit, let alone a human that knows nothing about interfacing, which get to the next question running wild in circles around his processor: can a human do sparkplay? The idea is impossible but it doesn't stop his imagination where, in fact, it seems more than possible with those little hands and fingers running wild on a bot's spark chamber, he remembers the humans being taught cybetronian medic techniques, how they were so focused in healing illness and it isn't so hard to change the purposes of the delicate and sometimes rough way those little hands made their way around a spark and all the sensitive wiring around.

He ask to himself if the human Fizzle was talking about were to be, by any chance, you.

And he negates it, scratches it, deletes as far as he can any trace of the mere idea of it because it will break his spark in million pieces would be improper in everyway.

It is also improper to remember it when he is next to you while you read a datapad about once living creatures of Cybertron, little finger moving the page once in a while in your hunger for more information that gets his optics focused on the way your eyes move along the light and the glyphs on the screen.

Will your curiosity also extent to other possibilities? He has seen you go "woah" and "ahh" over simple things like the subtle communication between frames with wings and spoilers or the fair quantity of differences of one frame to the other, the image of your face looking with interest whatever you're reading and how you take notes on your personal datapad, little fingers moving along and pressing different places in the sensible screen while showing your obvious interest, your possible awe over his bared spark in front of you.

It's almost too easy, he only needs to change a few things, his open spark chamber is now the source of light reflecting on your eyes, a perfect miniature mirror of your actions as your fingers touch the sensible glass cover of his spark, he can almost feel the electricity driving away to your body to his waiting spark that welcomes it with a tremor as hard as lightning that spreads to his whole frame in electric pleasure, wires tensing at the movement around and all the pressure, trying to make give accomodations to every little electric pulses your body can send to his most sensible component.

"Roddy"

It's way too real, way too hard, and it gets worse when your fingers get replaced with your soft looking lips and tongue, lapping above the connections before sliding to his tensed wires, making a wet trail to his spark while he debates internally in his own fantasy, he is supposed to concentrate, to not come undone or look because he is sure it would be JUST. SO. HOT.

"Rods"

It doesn't even end there, he can hear your voice along it, processor and cooling fans working overtime while he can only focus on the possibility, on the maybe that lingers above, it only takes so little to have you kiss with tongue his spark and he can't take it-

"Rodimus!" Oh, now, that's his designation, the fantasy is shattered in pieces and he soon realizes one of his digits is above his spark chamber, you are looking at him, maybe confused, obviously worried, it's enough to make him let go of the digit between his dentae and feeling his spike depressurize- "why are you so hot?", nevermind.

"... I'm hot?...", a wicked grin blended with happiness is forming on his faceplate as his words trail on slowly, almost as he is tasting it.

"I mean", you correct yourself, you really didn't need to, "heat is coming from your body, are you going flames on again? Are we under attack again?"

"What? Nah, just...", daydreaming about impossibilities, about a weak porn, like humans call it, without basis, heated romance and passion he isn't even sure you share with him, impossibilities that drag his bleeding spark over every movement and word of yours that he clings on with greedy servos, it's so embarrassing and he is sure he'll offline by pure mortification if you ever get a word about his attraction to you just to be faced by any degree of disgust coming from you, "it's getting cold in here, wouldn't want you to freeze those little fingers to dead", he doesn't even offer his servo but it is almost a natural response when he sees you approaching him with fear on your steps by any possibility of being another normal day aboard the Lost Light, he doesn't even stop and let's you settle on his lap like the security protocols indicated.

Fear washes away quickly when you register his words, there is curiosity on your eyes, looking between him and your hands, before finally look at him in the optics again, "Oh, didn't know you heard about the effects of excessive cold on the most distant phalanges, I mean, it's something that only happens while in extreme freezing conditions in harsh environments or controlled ones in closed lab experiments-"

Rodimus really didn't get what you were talking or the whole deal you were explaining to him, but seeing you feel secure next to him, taking seat above him showing the full confidence and trust you put on him while your hands move to explain your point, putting the warm palm against his armor from time to time.

"Everything you touch is bound to fail anyway", harsh words pang among his memory archives while he touches a side of yours to prevent a fall, but he silenced it, preferring the sound of your voice that now was about something called homeostasis.

He wouldn't trade this moment for anything, not when he offers you a digit and you hold it immediately, well, maybe a kiss if you could be generous enough, but he will get there soon, he hopes so.

I totally offer this one to @archie-sunshine and @pinkanonwrites by their glorious work of overheating and teasing Rodimus, I love it to the moon and back to hear about one of my faves even when he is mentally unstable and runs hot most of the time, it's his own charm, specially their newest works that relate to Roddy so much.

#reader insert #x reader #tf mtmte #transformers x reader #transformers #transformers idw #transformers x human reader #tf rodimus #rodimus x human reader #rodimus x reader #idw rodimus #rodimus prime #valveplug #sparkplay

124 notes · View notes

hopepetal · 9 months

Text

Some ranchers. Because I said I'd write them <3

––

First out.

Again.

And by his own stupid hand, his own stupid actions, because he never learned. He never learned.

No matter what he tried, no matter what he did, Jimmy would always be the canary.

“I hate myself,” he cried into the empty afterlife, drawing his knees up to his chest and rocking back and forth, wrapping his golden wings around himself as if they could shield him from the harsh reality. As if they could protect him from the truth.

“I hate myself,” he wept, and nothing changed for it. Time still ticked, tocked, sand trickling through the hourglass of life. His own hourglass was cracked open, sand spilling to the ground.

“I hate myself,” he whispered, and it echoed throughout the empty white space that stretched out infinitely.

And then he wasn't alone.

And then Skizz was there, with a gasp and tears streaking down his face but a smile on his lips. And then Joel was there, with a frustrated scream of rage. And then Bdubs.

They all exchanged brief words. Joel hugged Jimmy tightly for a moment, mournful whispers of a planned sacrifice in his ear. It wouldn't have worked. It never did. But Jimmy thanked Joel for trying.

And then someone was sitting next to him, cross legged and hands in their lap, tail swishing back and forth slightly. Jimmy didn't even need to look over to see who it was. He knew the presence of his rancher, knew the beat of his heart and the rhythm of his breathing.

“I'm sorry you got out first again,” Tango said, just as Jimmy muttered, “out first again, huh?”

They both looked at each other, meeting eyes that were finally their natural hue, and for a moment just stared. Then, Tango giggled nervously, and Jimmy couldn't help but smile as well.

“I'm still sorry about hitting you,” Jimmy apologized, wrapping a wing around Tango. “I was just bein' bad, you know how it is.”

Tango laughed, leaning against Jimmy. “I think it suits you. Black leather brings out your eyes. When you're not wearing sunglasses. I mean. Obviously. Because when you're wearing sunglasses your eyes are covered and–”

“Tango, Tango, buddy, I get it,” Jimmy interrupted, his mind far away from the self-loathing of earlier. “Here. Hold on.” He took off his sunglasses and fluttered his eyelashes at Tango. “Better?”

Tango's face went red, and he nodded. “Yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah! Cool! Those are your eyes! Wow!”

“You two really are soulmates,” Cleo commented from where they stood with Bdubs and Scar, an arm around the former. “Get a room, jeez.”

Jimmy shot her a glare, though there was nothing behind it. “Oh, buzz off!”

Tango burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking and tail tip flicking back and forth. “Ohhhh, oh man. I'm glad I got to see you again, Jimmy.”

“You need to visit more often,” Jimmy muttered, “I missed you.”

Tango pouted slightly. “I know... I'll try. I promise. But you know me, I start working on some project and then forget about time...” Noticing how Jimmy's shoulders slumped, he hurried to add on, “but I'll try! I will! I promise!”

“Good.”

“Good!”

As the last of the sand spilled from Martyn's hourglass, Jimmy and Tango watched. And as with every game, they slowly began to fade away from the afterlife, sent back to their home servers.

“Remember,” Jimmy told a translucent Tango, his voice resonating strangely, “you promised you'd visit.��

Tango grinned, nodding. “Rancher's honor! See you soon!”

And with that, they faded away.

Somewhere, a tiny toy sheriff awoke with a gasp, and felt like something was missing.

Somewhere, a hermit awoke with a soft yelp, and felt as if he'd broken a promise.

#my writing #ranchers #solidaritygaming #tangotek #Cleo's there too #and some other people #trafficsmp fanfic

165 notes · View notes

tosomeonessomeone · 3 months

Text

a heart laid bare.

words・ 4.5k /pairings・ non Idol Jisung x reader / genres・fluff / warnings・ suggestive You - Major in literature Han Jisung - Major in music

Professor Lee announced the upcoming seminar on different poetry genres, and to your surprise, you were paired with Han Jisung for the project.

"Hello," you said, mustering a smile as you approached Han Jisung after class.

"Hi," he replied, flashing a friendly grin. "Looks like we're partners for the seminar. I'm Han Jisung."

"Nice to meet you, I'm [Your Name]," you replied, feeling a bit nervous but also intrigued by his warm demeanor.

"Confessional poetry, huh? It's quite an interesting topic," Han Jisung remarked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Yeah, definitely. I think it's fascinating how poets use their own experiences and emotions to create such powerful works," you replied, feeling a sense of connection already.

Despite the looming deadline, the journey felt exhilarating, filled with moments of discovery and shared creativity. And as you exchanged drafts and ideas, you couldn't help but wonder where this newfound connection would lead, both in your project and beyond.

In the quiet solitude of the campus library, surrounded by towering shelves of books, Han Jisung's voice echoed softly in the dimly lit aisle. His eyes, illuminated by the gentle glow of the reading lamps, held a spark of excitement as he leaned in closer.

"I never realized how raw and vulnerable confessional poetry could be," Han Jisung confessed, his words hanging in the air like delicate whispers. "It's like peeling back layers of emotion, uncovering truths that resonate deep within."

His voice carried a sense of wonder, as if he had stumbled upon a hidden treasure buried beneath the weight of words. You listened intently, drawn to the passion that infused his every syllable, and nodded in silent agreement.

"Yeah, it's incredible how these poets lay bare their innermost thoughts and feelings," you replied, your own voice hushed with reverence. "It's like they're inviting us into the depths of their souls, sharing their joys and sorrows without reservation."

You knew that this late-night study session was just the beginning of a deeper exploration, one that would lead you both to the very essence of what it means to be human.

As you and Han Jisung embarked on your journey through the world of confessional poetry, you decided to dedicate each week to a different writer, immersing yourselves in their words and emotions. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you gathered in your dorm room, surrounded by the soft glow of lamplight and the scent of old books.

"This week, let's focus on Sylvia Plath," you suggested, reaching for a worn copy of "Ariel" from your bookshelf.

Han Jisung nodded eagerly, settling onto the floor beside you. "Sounds good. Her poetry has always had a way of cutting straight to the heart."

You opened the book to a dog-eared page and began to read aloud, the words tumbling from your lips like a whispered confession. "‘I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me…’"

Han Jisung listened intently, his gaze fixed on the page as if trying to unravel the secrets hidden within each line. "Wow," he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. "It's like she's laying bare her innermost fears for the world to see."

You nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of Plath's words settle like a heavy cloak around your shoulders. "Her ability to capture the darkness and despair within the human soul is truly remarkable."

As the week progressed, you and Han Jisung found yourselves drawn deeper into the labyrinth of Plath's poetry, reading and re-reading her verses to each other late into the night. With each passing day, you uncovered new layers of meaning and emotion, finding solace in the shared experience of exploring the depths of the human psyche.

"And what about Anne Sexton?" Han Jisung suggested one evening, his eyes alight with curiosity.

You nodded, eager to delve into the haunting verses of Sexton's confessional poetry. Together, you opened the pages of "Live or Die," letting the words wash over you like a tidal wave of emotion.

"'Your courage was a small coal that you kept swallowing,'" you read, your voice trembling with emotion.

Han Jisung sat in silence, absorbing the weight of Sexton's words. "It's like she's grappling with her own mortality, wrestling with the demons that haunt her every waking moment."

As the days turned into weeks, you and Han Jisung found yourselves drawn together not only by your shared passion for poetry but also by a growing sense of companionship and connection. The long picnics you dedicated to discussing poetry became cherished moments of shared intimacy, where the boundaries between friendship and something more began to blur.

Sitting on the soft grass under the shade of a sprawling oak tree, you unfolded your picnic blanket, the aroma of freshly baked bread mingling with the scent of wildflowers. As you exchanged verses and interpretations, laughter danced on the breeze, weaving a tapestry of shared memories and inside jokes.

"We should do this more often," Han Jisung remarked, his eyes crinkling with a smile. "It's like our own little oasis away from the chaos of the world."

You nodded in agreement, feeling the warmth of the sun against your skin and the gentle rustle of leaves overhead. In that moment, the world seemed to slow to a halt, and all that mattered was the quiet rhythm of your breaths and the gentle cadence of your laughter.

You found yourselves seeking each other out in moments of solitude and solace. Whether it was strolling through the bustling streets of the city, savoring the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee in quaint cafes, or losing track of time in the hushed corners of the library, you discovered a shared joy in each other's presence.

Even as you juggled the demands of your respective majors, you found solace in the moments spent together, learning and growing side by side. Whether it was discussing the intricacies of English literature or unraveling the mysteries of music theory, each shared experience became an opportunity to deepen your connection and broaden your horizons.

One day as you wandered through the corridors, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee in hand, your steps led you to the music hall where Han Jisung was scheduled for piano monitoring. With a warm smile, you settled outside the classroom, the familiar melody of his playing drifting through the closed door.

As the minutes passed, you sipped your coffee, the rich flavor mingling with the anticipation humming in the air. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, you pushed open the door and stepped inside.

There, bathed in the soft glow of afternoon light, Han Jisung sat at the piano, his fingers dancing across the keys with effortless grace. The music swirled around the room, filling every corner with its enchanting melody, wrapping you in its embrace.

For a moment, you stood rooted to the spot, captivated by the sight of Han Jisung lost in his world of music. His eyes were closed, his expression serene, as if he were communing with something beyond the reach of words.

As the final notes faded into silence, Han Jisung opened his eyes, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of surprise and delight. A shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he gestured for you to come closer.

"You heard that?" he asked, his voice soft with wonder.

You nodded, the warmth of the moment enveloping you like a soft blanket. "It was beautiful," you replied, your heart swelling with admiration.

He looked into your eyes with a secretive glint in his eyes. "That piece was part of my self-authored poem," he confessed, his voice tinged with a hint of excitement. "But it's a secret for now."

Surprised by his revelation, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of curiosity. "A secret poem?" you echoed, leaning in closer, eager to hear more.

Han Jisung nodded, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I've been working on it for some time. I wanted it to be a surprise, something special."

In that moment, a wave of warmth washed over you, touched by Han Jisung's thoughtfulness and creativity. "I can't wait to hear it," you replied, your heart swelling with anticipation.

Han Jisung's eyes sparkled with excitement as he continued, "I hope to turn it into a song someday, but I need to find the right melody first. Something that captures the essence of the words."

You nodded in understanding, marveling at his dedication and passion for his craft. "I have no doubt it will be amazing," you assured him, your voice filled with unwavering confidence.

With just one week left until the seminar, you knew that together, you and Han Jisung were ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead, armed with nothing but your love for literature and the unshakeable bond that had blossomed between you.

As you huddled together in the cozy confines of your dorm room, surrounded by scattered notebooks and

half-empty mugs of coffee, the hours melted away in a blur of passionate discussion and shared laughter.

"We're almost there," you remarked, your voice tinged with a hint of exhaustion but buoyed by a sense of accomplishment. "Just a few more tweaks and we'll be ready for the big day."

Han Jisung nodded in agreement, his eyes alight with determination. "I have a feeling our hard work is going to pay off. This seminar is going to be something special."

And as the first light of dawn painted the sky in shades of pink and gold, you finally allowed yourselves a moment of respite, knowing that the journey you had embarked upon together was far from over.

With Saturday stretching out before you like a blank canvas, filled with endless possibilities, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the adventures that lay ahead.

As you and Han Jisung settled onto the soft rug, bathed in the warm glow of the lamp, a sense of unease settled over you like a heavy blanket. Despite the late hour and the quiet stillness of the room, your mind raced with a flurry of thoughts and emotions, each one more elusive than the last.

"I just can't seem to find the right words," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been trying to write my poem, but it's like the words won't come."

Han Jisung nodded in understanding, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the swirling chaos of your thoughts. "It's okay," he reassured you, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Sometimes, the hardest part is finding the courage to let the words flow."

With a heavy sigh, you closed your eyes, willing the floodgates of inspiration to open. But try as you might, the blank page remained stubbornly devoid of any semblance of poetry, a silent testament to your inner struggle.

"I just want it to be perfect," you admitted, the weight of expectation bearing down on your shoulders like a burden too heavy to bear.

Han Jisung reached out, his hand resting gently on yours, a silent gesture of solidarity and support. "It doesn't have to be perfect," he said, his voice soft but firm. "It just has to be true."

His words hung in the air like a lifeline, guiding you back to the heart of your creativity and reminding you that the beauty of poetry lies not in its perfection, but in its honesty and vulnerability.

And as you leaned against the bed, surrounded by the soft glow of lamplight and the steady rhythm of Han Jisung's presence, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, united in purpose and bound by the bonds of friendship and shared passion.

As you looked at Han Jisung, lost in the quiet rhythm of his work, a wave of inspiration washed over you, igniting a spark deep within your soul. The dim light cast soft shadows across the room, enveloping the two of you in a cocoon of intimacy and possibility.

In that fleeting moment, as the world outside faded into oblivion, you found yourself drawn to the beauty of the scene unfolding before you—the gentle rustle of papers, the steady cadence of Han Jisung's breathing, the unspoken connection that bound you together.

With a sense of purpose coursing through your veins, you reached for your pen, the ink flowing like a river of creativity as you scribbled down every word that danced across your mind.

Each line was a testament to the quiet strength of friendship and the power of shared dreams, woven together with threads of love and vulnerability.

As the words spilled onto the page, a sense of clarity washed over you, like a beacon guiding you home. In the midst of chaos and uncertainty, you had found your anchor, your sanctuary—the poetry that lay dormant within your soul, waiting to be unleashed.

And as you poured your heart onto the page, each word a testament to the beauty of the human experience, you knew that this moment would forever be etched into the fabric of your memory—a silent tribute to the power of inspiration, and the transformative magic of connection.

“In shadows cast by evening's gentle hue,

In whispered sighs beneath the crescent moon,

A heart laid bare, adorned with shades of blue,

Confession wrapped in verses' soft cocoon.

Beneath the lamplight's tender, flickering glow,

I trace the contours of a secret flame,

A love that blossoms but dare not to show,

Its petals sheltered from the world's acclaim.

In stolen glances, fleeting moments shared,

A melody of longing softly hummed,

In every line, a tender truth declared,

A symphony of whispers left unsung.

With every word, a silent vow I keep,

In ink-stained pages, where my secrets sleep.”

As you looked down at your words, a moment of realization struck you like a bolt from the blue. Lost in the rhythm of your own thoughts, you hadn't even noticed Han Jisung leaning in, his eyes scanning the freshly written lines with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

His gaze lingered on the page, his expression unreadable, as if he were trying to unravel the secrets hidden within the ink-stained verses. And in that moment, a rush of vulnerability washed over you, like a tide pulling you deeper into the depths of your own emotions.

You felt exposed, laid bare beneath the weight of your own words, unsure of how Han Jisung would receive the confessions woven into the fabric of your poetry. Would he understand the hidden layers of meaning, the echoes of longing that reverberated within each line?

"It's beautiful." he said, his voice soft with reverence.

As you turned your head to look at him, a sudden rush of proximity filled the space between you, your face mere inches from his. The air crackled with electricity, charged with the unspoken tension that lingered between you like a veil of anticipation.

In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, suspended in the delicate balance of possibility and restraint. Your heart thundered in your chest, the rhythm of its beats echoing the unspoken desires that danced beneath the surface.

His breath brushed against your skin, warm and intoxicating, a whispered promise of what could be. And as you met his gaze, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange of longing and uncertainty.

His deep brown eyes, soft and tender, held a universe of emotions as you slowly turned your head away, a silent retreat from the intensity of the moment. But before you could fully escape, his hand found its place on your cheek, gentle and reassuring, drawing you back to him with a magnetic pull that defied reason.

In the hushed intimacy of the space between you, his lips met yours in a tender caress, a silent confession of the longing that had lingered unspoken between you for so long. The world fell away, consumed by the heat of the moment, as the soft brush of his lips ignited a fire within your soul.

In that fleeting instant, the boundaries that had once separated you melted into oblivion, leaving only the raw vulnerability of shared desire and the promise of something deeper, something more profound than words could ever convey.

As you kissed him back, the world around you faded into insignificance, consumed by the electrifying intensity of the moment. His lips, warm and tender against yours, ignited a fire within your soul, a flame fueled by the unspoken desires and shared dreams that had bound you together.

With each fleeting touch, he drew you closer, his embrace a sanctuary against the chaos of the world. And as your lips moved in perfect harmony, a symphony of longing and devotion unfolded between you, a silent testament to the love that had blossomed in the quiet spaces between books and late-night wanderings.

In the tender pauses between kisses, Han Jisung's voice rose like a gentle melody, weaving the words of his poem into the fabric of the night, each verse a testament to the depth of his love.

"In the quiet whispers of the night," he began, his voice soft and reverent, "Beneath the stars' soft, guiding light, A love was born amidst the pages, Of books that filled our shared spaces."

As his lips brushed against yours, he continued, each word a whispered confession of devotion and longing. "In words penned by poets' hands, Our hearts found solace, made their stands, On picnic blankets, under trees, We shared our hopes, our dreams, our pleas."

With each stanza, the weight of his love washed over you like a gentle tide, pulling you deeper into the depths of his affection. "In late-night wanderings, side by side, Through shelves of books, our love did glide, A silent dance of souls entwined, In the labyrinth of the mind."

And as he spoke, you felt the echoes of your shared journey reverberate through every syllable, binding you together in an unbreakable bond forged in the fires of passion and understanding. "With every verse, a promise made, In every stanza, love conveyed, Through sonnets sweet and verses true, Our hearts found shelter, me and you."

In the quiet sanctuary of the night, Han Jisung's words became a sanctuary, a testament to the beauty of your love and the poetry that had blossomed between you. "And so, my love, in poetry's embrace, I found the home for which I chase, In every line, I see your face, A love eternal, bound by grace."

With each breath, with each kiss, the lines of his poem became etched into the very fabric of your being, a reminder of the magic that had brought you together and the promise of a future filled with endless possibility and unwavering devotion.

As Han Jisung finished his heartfelt poem, his eyes met yours with a depth of emotion that echoed the sentiments woven into his verses. Without a word, you felt a magnetic pull drawing you closer to him, your heart beating in sync with the rhythm of his love.

With a graceful movement, you shifted closer, settling into his lap, your legs on each side, creating an intimate cocoon of warmth and affection. He leaned against the side of your bed, his body molded to yours, as you leaned into him, your breath mingling in the space between you.

In the soft glow of the lamplight, time seemed to stand still as you surrendered to the tender embrace of his lips, a silent symphony of passion and desire unfolding in the quiet sanctuary of the night. His touch was a gentle caress against your skin, igniting a fire that burned with the intensity of a thousand suns.

With each kiss, the boundaries that had once separated you melted away, leaving only the raw vulnerability of two souls bound together in a dance as old as time itself. In that moment, there were no words, no need for explanations or promises—only the silent language of love spoken in the tender brush of lips and the gentle touch of hands.

As the warmth of the moment enveloped you both, you broke the kiss, your heart pounding with a mixture of emotions. With a gentle touch, you cupped Han Jisung's face in your hands, searching his eyes for the truth that lay hidden within their depths.

"I never imagined..." Your voice trailed off, the weight of your confession hanging heavy in the air. For so long, you had danced around the edges of your feelings, never daring to imagine that Han Jisung could feel the same way.

But now, as you looked into his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own longing, mirrored back in the depths of his gaze. In that moment, the walls that had once separated you crumbled to dust, leaving only the raw vulnerability of two hearts laid bare.

Han Jisung's hand found yours, his touch a silent reassurance of the love that bound you together. "I never imagined either," he admitted, his voice soft with sincerity. "But from the moment I met you, I knew there was something special between us."

As the weight of your confessions lifted from your shoulders, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, unable to contain the joy that blossomed within your heart. With a soft giggle escaping your lips, you couldn't help but hide your face between Han Jisung's shoulder and neck, overcome by a rush of happiness and relief.

His laughter echoed yours, a symphony of shared joy that filled the room with its warmth. In that moment, the world seemed to shrink to the space between you, cocooned in the embrace of each other's laughter and the promise of a future filled with endless possibility.

In that sacred space, you lingered, savoring the sweetness of the moment as if it were the only thing that truly mattered. And as the world outside faded into obscurity, you knew that in each other's embrace, you had found a sanctuary—a haven where the fires of passion burned bright and the echoes of your love reverberated through the silent chambers of your hearts.

And so, you stayed, lost in the magic of the moment, cherishing the precious gift of each other's presence as if it were the rarest treasure in the universe. In the quiet stillness of the night, you found solace in the arms of Han Jisung, your souls intertwined in a dance as old as time itself, bound together by the unbreakable bonds of a love that had transcended all barriers to find its way home.

Who could have imagined that on the day of your seminar, you would walk hand in hand with Han Jisung, fingers intertwined in a silent declaration of unity and affection. As you entered the classroom, a sense of anticipation hung in the air, mingling with the nervous energy that crackled beneath the surface.

Together, you stood at the front of the room, your hearts beating in unison as you prepared to give your presentation. With each passing moment, the weight of the day's events bore down upon you, but you drew strength from the depth of Han Jisung's presence by your side.

As you began to speak, your words flowed like a river, carrying the essence of your shared journey into the hearts of your audience. With every slide, every carefully crafted argument, you felt the resonance of your connection woven into the fabric of your presentation, a reflection of the bond and affinity that had blossomed between you.

And as the seminar drew to a close, you looked out at the faces of your classmates, their eyes alight with curiosity and intrigue. In that moment, you realized that this was more than just an academic exercise—it was a celebration of the depth of your connection, a testament to the power of friendship, companionship, and the courage to follow your heart's truest desires.

As you and Han Jisung took your final bow, applause rang out through the room, a chorus of affirmation and support that lifted your spirits higher than you could have ever imagined. And in the midst of it all, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand, bound by the unyielding depth of your affection and shared dreams.

As the seminar concluded, your professor stepped forward, his expression one of genuine admiration and appreciation. His voice, filled with warmth and encouragement, resonated through the room, carrying the weight of his words like a beacon of affirmation.

"I must say," he began, his tone infused with genuine admiration, "that was truly an exceptional presentation. The depth of insight, the clarity of thought—it's evident that both of you have poured your hearts and souls into this project."

His words, like a gentle embrace, enveloped you both in a sense of validation and pride. You could feel the sincerity behind his praise, a testament to the impact of your dedication and hard work.

"As educators, we often talk about the importance of passion and commitment," he continued, his eyes sparkling with genuine enthusiasm, "and today, you've exemplified those qualities in abundance. Your exploration of confessional poetry was not only insightful but also deeply moving, a testament to the power of literature to touch the human soul."

With each word, you felt a swell of gratitude and pride rise within you, a recognition of the countless hours spent pouring over texts and crafting your arguments with meticulous care.

"I have no doubt that both of you have bright futures ahead," he concluded, his voice filled with conviction. "Today's presentation is a testament to your talent, your dedication, and your unwavering commitment to excellence. Congratulations on a job well done."

As the applause filled the room once more, you exchanged a knowing glance with Han Jisung, a silent acknowledgment of the journey you had embarked upon together. And in that moment, you knew that no matter where the road may lead, you would always carry with you the lessons learned and the memories forged in the crucible of shared passion and determination.

As the day ebbed away, the pulsating energy of success gave way to an insatiable hunger, an undeniable craving that drew you and Han Jisung together with an irresistible force. You’ve found yourselves in his dorm room with the euphoria of triumph still coursing through your veins, you found yourselves entangled in a web of desire, each touch igniting a wildfire of passion that threatened to consume you whole.

In the dimly lit embrace of the night, the air crackled with anticipation, charged with the electricity of forbidden longing. With trembling hands and hungry hearts, you shed the layers of restraint, surrendering to the primal urge that pulsed beneath the surface.

His touch was electric, sending sparks dancing along your skin as you traced the contours of his body with a reverence reserved for sacred ground. With each caress, each whispered promise, you delved deeper into the labyrinth of desire, intoxicated by the heady scent of arousal that hung thick in the air.

In the heat of the moment, the boundaries between you blurred and faded, leaving only the raw vulnerability of two souls laid bare in the throes of ecstasy. With every kiss, every sigh, you surrendered to the intoxicating rhythm of passion, lost in the symphony of pleasure that echoed through the night.

In the poetry of your touch and the melodies of your moans, you discovered a language that transcended words, a silent communion of bodies entwined in a dance as old as time itself. And as the night unfurled around you like a velvet tapestry, you reveled in the knowledge that in each other's arms, you had found a home—a sanctuary where the boundaries of pleasure and pain blurred into sweet oblivion, where the mysteries of love and desire awaited exploration with every breathless whisper and trembling sigh.

#Spotify #jisung x reader #han jisung #skz jisung #stray kids jisung #skz han #han x reader #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz #skz imagines #skz fluff #stray kids

54 notes · View notes

supernaturalfreakout · 3 months

Text

Revelations pt. 2

[History on Your Side—Chapter 3.] Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Revelations of a different kind are revealed. You and Sam spend some time alone. *Please see the masterlist for entire work summary and tags* Masterlist | Read on AO3

The Impala rumbled through the streets, the engine's purr resonating through the rainy night as Sam and Dean navigated towards your address. The houses stood in neat rows, each one barely distinguishable from the next in the dimly lit neighbourhood. As they pulled up outside your modest townhouse, the porch light cast a soft glow, illuminating the rain as it fell.

You met them at the door, hurrying them into the kitchen where an array of old texts and manuscripts lay, covering the table and floor.

"Wow, you've really gone to town" Dean remarked.

The three of you gathered around the small kitchen table, the air thick with anticipation as you laid out a leather journal and a few worn manuscripts in front of you.

A touch of nervousness colored your voice as you continued. "I've been studying these texts for a while and have never been able to make sense of them, but when you mentioned a spell... well, take a look..."

Sam leaned forward, recognizing a familiar seal on the journal. "Are these… Men of Letters materials?"

Your confusion was evident as you locked eyes.

"You know about the Men of Letters?" Dean's tone was laced with both concern and intrigue.

You nodded. "I've been quietly researching their history for years. It's not something openly discussed in academic circles... it's often dismissed as mere conspiracy or myth."

Sam's eyebrows rose in interest. "What got you interested in their research?"

"I stumbled upon obscure references during my doctoral studies. It was like uncovering a hidden world of knowledge. But the deeper I delved, the more I realized how deliberately it was obscured. My colleagues shrugged it off, but I sensed there was more… and… I'm sensing that you know more than you're letting on?" You looked between the brothers as they glanced at each other, silently contemplating whether to reveal their connection to the secret organisation.

Sam leaned forward as he explained. "The Men of Letters, they've been around for centuries. They've catalogued knowledge about every kind of supernatural entity you can imagine. They're like a secret society, guarding information that most people can't even imagine."

Dean, nodding in agreement, added, "They've got archives full of books and lore from all over the world. But they keep it under lock and key, hidden from the public eye."

You listened intently, visibly intrigued. "So, you're saying that this organization has been safeguarding knowledge about the supernatural for generations?"

Dean chimed in. "It's not just about information. They've got tools, spells, ancient artefacts—stuff that's pretty powerful if it falls into the wrong hands."

Your eyes widened slightly. "How do you know all of this?"

"We've had our fair share of encounters with the Men of Letters," Sam began, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "In fact, we live in one of their old bunkers."

"Yeah, it's our headquarters. It's packed with centuries-old knowledge, weapons, spells—everything we need for our... line of work. Where did you say you found this?" Dean's voice turned accusatory as he picked up the journal.

"It was donated by a member of the public… I reached out for information on local folklore and someone handed it in. There should be a name in the cover, hold on…" You flipped to the back page. "Donated by a Mr Henry Win… W... Winchester".

A silence settled between the three of you. Sam and Dean gaped.

"Henry Who?" Dean asked, not believing his ears.

"Henry Winchester." You gulped, watching the brother's shocked expressions.

"Huh." Sam huffed, visibly baffled. "Henry Winchester is… or was… our grandfather".

"Wait, so you're telling us that you just happen to have our missing Men of Letters' journal, donated by our grandfather?!" Dean accused. "Who are you working for lady?".

"What?! No one… I mean, I work for the university… No one else... I'm just as confused as you are right now!" You sat back in defence, noting the concern in the brothers' eyes.

"Not many people even know about the Men of Letters, let alone actively research them" Sam added, searching your eyes.

You looked at him pleadingly. "I swear Sam, I wouldn't lie about this..."

Sam calmed, noticing the panic in your eyes. "Hey, hey… it's okay, I believe you Y/N." I don't know why, but I just do. Sam soothed as he looked into your eyes.

Relief washed over you and Dean appeared to calm, trusting Sam's intuition.

As the tension lifted, a sense of understanding gradually filled the room. Sam's unwavering belief seemed to bridge the gap, diffusing the suspicion that lingered moments ago. The relief in your eyes mirrored Dean's easing stance.

"So, you're like… guardians of this hidden world?" You asked, reigniting your conversation.

Sam exhaled through his nose. "More like janitors, cleaning up the messes others can't handle."

"It's not always glamorous," Dean teased with a smirk. "But someone's gotta do it." The hint of humour in his tone reassured you that his earlier suspicions had dissipated. "Anyway, back to this spell…"

"Right, of course..." You pulled the journal towards you.

Sam leaned forward, studying the text intently as you pointed out the details you had identified. Aided by Sam and Dean's knowledge, you worked together to translate the details of the spell.

The spell involved a meticulous process- a ritual, cleansing a site with specific herbs and offerings, all of which had to align with the energies of a full moon.

Hope coloured Sam's voice. "This is incredible... So the spirit's energy is tied to the full moon?"

You nodded. "Lore states that the tribe worshiped the full moon, and when a member died and their bones burned… their souls transcend there…Somehow, this dude got trapped on earth"

"Huh" Dean mused. "Sounds like a sci-fi movie".

Sam huffed, "Are you forgetting that Vampires exist, Dean? Werewolves, Demons, Angels...?"

"Angels?!" You blurted, shock evident on your face.

The brothers chuckled in unison. "Why is it always the Angels that shock people?" Dean smithed.

You squinted at Sam, tilting your head to the side in mock suspicion. "Angels, really!? You're not getting out of that one easily, I'll have questions later."

Dean winked at Sam.

"Anyway moving onnn…" Sam pressed, placing his hand on the table. "This explains why there have been no reported sightings in a few weeks. No full moon = no spirit."

"So… yeah, this spell… the moon." You stumbled over your words, a hint of reluctance in your expression. "Basically… it seems the spell can only be performed on a full moon. And, well, the next one is... tomorrow."

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Tomorrow? That soon?"

You nodded, feeling the weight of time. "I'm sorry I didn't mention this earlier. That's why I called you over so urgently."

Sam nodded thoughtfully, understanding the sudden rush. "Thank you Y/N. We owe you big time for this."

You glanced at the clock on the wall. "Soo… we should get cracking then. We'll need to gather the ingredients and prepare for the ritual before sunset tomorrow".

Sam and Dean exchanged a concerned glance. "Y/N... This ritual, it might not be safe. We can't guarantee what we'll face there."

Dean's expression hardened as he chimed in, his demeanour firm. "Sam's right, we can't risk putting you in harm's way."

You met their concern with an unwavering, resolute look. "I understand the risks, but I called you here for a reason. I want to help."

Sam sighed deeply, his concern etched in his furrowed brow. "We appreciate that, but this is our job—our responsibility. We can't involve you in something this risky."

"But… I've been studying these texts for years... I know the history," you insisted firmly, your determination shining through. "I can be an asset, not a liability."

Dean shook his head, his reluctance evident. "We can't take that chance. Our line of work, it's not for everyone."

You stood your ground, your stance holding a mix of frustration and resolve. "I understand the risks, and I'm willing to take them."

Sam and Dean exchanged a knowing look, silently acknowledging your unyielding determination. With a heavy sigh, Sam relented, albeit with lingering worry etched on his face. "Okay. We'll need to gather the ingredients, and rehearse the spell."

Your eyes lit up with gratitude. "Thank you. I won't let you down."

After a tense pause, Sam spoke in a softer tone. "We'll prepare everything. But promise us, if it gets too dangerous, you'll stay back."

You nodded firmly. "I promise. I'll follow your lead."

Dean, uncomfortable with the tension in the air, decided to excuse himself. "Hey Sammy… as you’re the bookish one, why don't you stay and get clued up on this spell. I’ll head out to grab the herbs and shit". Dean shot a reassuring look at Sam, a silent encouragement to handle the situation, before swiftly leaving to gather the required supplies.

As the sound of the closing door echoed through the room, the atmosphere seemed to ease a bit. Sam met your gaze, his concern softening into a reassuring smile. "He's got a way with words, hasn't he?"

You chuckled softly, the tension easing a little. "He sure does. Is he always that direct and to the point?"

Sam let out a breathy laugh. "Yep"

You mirrored his amusement.

Sam leaned back in his chair, folding his arms as he regarded you. "You really shouldn't have to do this. It's not your responsibility."

"I know," you admitted, a hint of weariness in your voice. "But I can't stand by knowing that I might know something that could help. This means a lot to me."

Sam's expression softened, understanding the depth of your commitment. "We appreciate your willingness to help. But you have to understand, this world we deal with, it's dangerous. We've seen things that... no one should have to."

You nodded solemnly. "I get it. But sometimes, doing what's right means taking risks."

Despite his concerns for your safety, your words resonated with him deeply. "We'll do everything to keep you safe, Y/N. That's a promise."

A faint smile touched your lips. "I trust you."

---

With a newfound understanding, you focused on the task ahead together. Time passed swiftly in your combined efforts, Sam absorbing every bit of information like a sponge, whilst you offered clarifications and insights from your research.

As you discussed the finer points of the ritual, your voices softened, the air thickening with a palpable chemistry, unspoken yet undeniable. Your forced proximity seemed to heighten the charged atmosphere. An accidental brush of hands while reaching for a text, or a fleeting touch as you exchanged notes, sent jolts of awareness through you both.

Sam caught himself lingering on your words longer than necessary, admiring the intelligence and passion in your eyes. He tried to concentrate on the ritual details, but his thoughts occasionally drifted to the way your eyes sparkled with enthusiasm or the way you ran your fingers through your hair in moments of deep contemplation.

You too, couldn't help but notice the intensity in Sam's eyes as he absorbed the information. His focused demeanour was intriguing, and the way his brows furrowed slightly in concentration was oddly endearing. You found yourself drawn to his earnestness, dedication, and the way he spoke with a gentle authority.

"Y/N," Sam began hesitantly, breaking the intensity of your study. "I owe you an apology. When we first met, I... I made a mistake, misgendering you. I'm truly sorry. I haven't stopped thinking about it… I'm pretty embarrassed actually."

Your expression softened, surprise flickering briefly before a reassuring smile tugged at your lips. "Honestly, forget about it... titles can be deceiving."

Sam exhaled through his nose. "It must suck though, right? That people still make assumptions like that".

"I guess so, I just try not to think about it."

"Yeah, yeah, right, I'm sorry."

You chuckled. "Stop apologizing... It's all good."

"Good." Sam smiled, unsure where to lead the conversation next. He hoped he hadn't ruined the vibe.

Sensing Sam's hesitancy, you shuffled in your seat. "Um, I don't know about you, but all this reading is making my head fuzzy. Do you…fancy a beer?"

"Uh, yeah… sure." Sam rose from his seat, unconsciously mirroring you.

"Awesome, you relax, Sam, I'll grab them".

"May I use your bathroom?" Sam asked, ever so politely.

You chuckled. "Yeah of course, up the stairs, first door on the right."

Once in the bathroom, Sam closed the door and stared at himself in the mirror. He felt like a teenager on a first date, full of butterflies. He tried to calm himself down, splashing some cold water on his face and checking his teeth. Taking a deep breath to calm the flutter of nerves in his chest, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself. He couldn't deny what he was feeling- he was head-over-heels crushing on you.

As he tried to steady his racing thoughts, Sam couldn't help but replay the moments you had shared—your smile, the accidental touches, the way you seamlessly connected over shared enthusiasm.

"Pull yourself together, Sam," he muttered to his reflection. He couldn't afford to let his feelings interfere with the task ahead, especially when danger might loom.

Taking another deep breath, he straightened his posture and splashed a bit more water on his face, letting the coolness soothe his nerves. "Just a crush," he reminded himself firmly, though his heart wasn't completely convinced.

Downstairs, you were gathering drinks from the kitchen, your own thoughts a mix of excitement and nervousness. You had sensed a shift in your interaction, and now, with Sam excusing himself, you tried to contain your own flutter of anticipation. The prospect of spending a casual moment together felt oddly thrilling.

With two bottles in hand, you made your way to the lounge, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. You set the bottles down on the coffee table as you heard Sam's footsteps coming down the stairs.

"In here!" you called, signalling Sam to turn right, instead of left back into the kitchen. "Needed a change of scenery" you smiled, trying to ease the tension as you both sat on the sofa.

Seated next to each other, you took sips from your drinks.

"Sooo, besides solving supernatural mysteries, what else do you do?" you asked, attempting to break the ice.

Sam chuckled softly, grateful for the shift in conversation. "Well, it's pretty much a hunter's life for me—saving people, hunting things, the family business, as my brother likes to say."

You grinned. "Saving people, huh? That's quite the noble endeavour. But what about when you're not hunting?"

Sam paused, considering the question. "I guess I try to keep some sense of normalcy—reading, jogging, that kind of stuff. Dean says I'm a bit of a nerd."

You chuckled. "Sounds like a good way to balance out the otherworldly chaos."

Sam's gaze softened, memories of a different path flickering in his eyes. "I had another life planned before all of this... I was studying to be a lawyer."

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really? What made you change course?"

"Family duty." Sam's reply was tinged with melancholy and regret. "Some things happen, and you find yourself down a different road. Dean and I… well, we took on this legacy, and it became more than just a choice."

You nodded, sensing the depth behind Sam's words. "It takes a lot to give up one path for another."

"Yeah, it does," Sam agreed softly, a hint of sadness in his tone. "But I guess in the end, we all have to make sacrifices for what we believe in."

You considered him for a second, admiration in your thoughts.

"Anyway... enough about me…what about you? Besides being an encyclopaedia of hidden knowledge, what fills your days?"

You blushed. "Well, you know... the simple things—hiking, painting, exploring new cafes..." A soft smile graced your lips. "Oh, and I have this habit of binge-watching crime documentaries. It's a bit of a guilty pleasure."

Sam chuckled. "Oh yeah?"

You exhaled in amusement. "Yeah, um... I know it sounds so cliché, but understanding the human mind, motivations—it's fascinating."

Your conversation flowed effortlessly, each question peeling back another layer, revealing more about your lives, interests, and aspirations.

Dean eventually returned, laden with an assortment of herbs and artefacts. You were so engrossed in your conversation that you didn't even hear the door open.

"Got everything we need. What'd I miss?" Dean's grin widened as he surveyed the room, sensing the intimate atmosphere he'd stumbled into.

Sam cleared his throat, a faint flush of embarrassment tingeing his cheeks. "Uh, we finalised the spell... Y/N here kindly offered up a beer."

"Yeah, we were just winding down... Are you a true crime fan too?" You asked with a playful smirk.

Dean's eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "True crime, huh? You've been holding out on me with that one Sammy."

Sam rolled his eyes, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"No need to explain, Sammy. Just remember, if you ever need pointers on a real hunt, I'm your go-to guy." Dean winked and headed to the kitchen, focusing on arranging the herbs and artefacts he'd gathered.

You and Sam exchanged a glance—an unspoken acknowledgment of the moment you had shared, now shelved in the wake of the imminent task ahead.

Chapter 4

#ao3 fanfic #history on your side #fanfic #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #x reader

40 notes · View notes

mossy-green-aka-ferrythem · 8 days

Text

Watched the recent episodes of Dungeon Meshi, 15 and 16 I believe. Man I love this story. First of all, episode 15, where you can really see how much each and every one of these characters care for one another! But then in 16, things get a bit... messy... first of all, everyone is here, which is quite nice! But then you see how the larger world works and how other people act, function, and think...

I really am actually feeling distressed at the position Laios finds himself in. It's like, he really does care a lot, but his care isn't quite reciprocated... Kabru notes that him not "exterminating" orcs is him failing his duties as an adventurer, Kabru puts on a front of delight when he hears about Laios and his monster eating habits... and just... god Laios resonates with me so much as a character and I just can't keep it in. In it's current state, Kabru represents something that I fear. The idea that every mistake I've made, every miscommunication, every dealing coming back to haunt me... and how he takes delight when he hears about the use of Black Magic, blushing with joy and thinking to himself "Oh wow! This is way worse then I thought!"... I'm sorry everyone... but someone like this awakens a visceral sense of distaste in me... I'm sure my thoughts will change as the narrative progresses... but the way Kabru, being a devout adventurer as he is, sort of in a way seems to represent that career, and what larger society represents... the sort of joy of a peasant, hearing that the town eccentric is being sent to the gallows... the idea that Laios and his party deserves to be locked up forever, with not even the corpses to return... after everything I've lived through... it sort of mirrors what I fear the most. The idea that every single mistake that I've made will come down on my throat like a Guillotine, and have my head rolling across the ground, to someone's feet, and they pick it up, look at my head, and say "serves him right".

Anyways, that got awfully personal, but it makes sense. It's an intensely personal narrative with intensely personal themes and characters. Time and time again Laios just resonates with me in such a special way. I myself, being autistic, just so viscerally feel and understand Laios. Being so passionate like that, having such intense difficulty interacting, but still wishing to do so out of love, the idea of wanting to share one's passions, only to be treated as a sort of freak... like, I'm sure if I were to share my interests in certain media and the philosophies they follow, and get into actual, sincere, media literacy, the average person would probably disparage me... it concerns me so... I would imagine Laios feels a certain way like that, with his passion for what it is to live, to consume, to be nourished by the flesh of monsters that he so cares about, and understands...

EDIT: Man I really have to bring my awful awful anxieties and insecurities into me posting my thoughts about Dungeon Meshi, huh?

#dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon #laios touden #laios dungeon meshi

30 notes · View notes

talaok · 1 year

Text

I’ve dreamed of this (pt. II)

Summary: You are a part of the BAU, and for the longest time you and Dr. Spencer Reid had been best of friends, even when it was clear to everyone else, and at times to you, that you should be more than that, and when something almost happens on a night out with the team, everything is destined to change. This is a double pov story (each chapter will be alternated between y/n's and spencer's pov)

Chapter summary: Spencer is overthinking what happened last night

warnings: none

a/n: In case you didn't get it, I was sad while writing this. if you want to be added to the tag-list comment or write to me.

previous part | next part

Spencer

The painful light shined on his face, making him groan. He gripped the cover and threw it over his head, turning his back to the window. He had just fallen asleep, how dared the sun ruin that moment? How dared the curtains not protect him? He had gotten home and taken off his cardigan just to crawl into bed with his shirt, pants, and socks still on. he was tired, he remembered having thought about crying, but then again, he had nothing to cry about. Nothing had happened. And that was it. Nothing had happened at all. For the first time in his life, he thought he had a chance, for the first time in his lonely and sad existence he had thought things were finally going his way. But no. Emily opened that stupid door, and she had moved away, like everyone always did. And maybe they were right, maybe it was best if they stayed away. He always seemed to make things worse anyway. He remembered her face when he looked at her. The fear and regret so incredibly clear in her eyes, and he remembered her words. "we were drunk" she had said, but that wasn't true. He had drank two sips of whiskey just to hate it and give it to Rossi, and he spent the rest of the night drinking coke. And Y/n, she had had to drink, but she wasn't drunk, he had seen her drunk, had seen her stumbling cutely on every surface she could find, and had heard her slurred monologues about the meaning in life, so he knew, with a certainty only someone who knew her that well could have, that she wasn't drunk. She had simply realized the huge mistake she had just made. Leading him on when she knew she didn't feel the same. And she had come up with that excuse. But he knew. He knew what she really meant. And so he had run away, leaving her before she could do the same to him. As spencer sighed into his pillow he wished it had all been a dream, a very lucid nightmare where he and the woman he's been in love with for four years, the same one who could ask him to jump off a building and would have him comply in a second, almost kissed, and that he didn't run away. Saying that Spencer felt like shit was an understatement. he had no idea how to face the day, had no idea how he was gonna have to behave with y/n. Nothing had happened, they were friends, just like they had always been, but he feared, for the first time since he'd met her, that this was the last straw, that after yesterday, he wasn't gonna be able to pretend anymore, to act like she hadn't been the sole reason he woke up in the morning for the past four years. But the alarm rang nonetheless, uncaring of his state, and of his frustrated groan as he pushed it off the nightstand.

_ _ _

"hey there pretty boy" Derek's voice resonated through Spencer's ears as he was pouring himself his third cup of coffee of the morning. "good morning" he answered weakly "Wow, what's that tone?" he smiled "too much partying last night?" Spencer wanted to run away, fly through the doors and down the stairs until he was out of the office. He knew he would have had to have this conversation, he had actually prepared himself for it the whole morning, but still, it hadn't worked, he still wished to disappear. Spencer forced himself to chuckle "nope, I'm just tired" "I bet" Derek said suggestively, filling his own mug "You and y/n had a lot of fun, huh?" he shouldered him jokingly and Spencer felt like he was gonna puke. just the mention of her name made him physically hurt, he didn't want to even think about what was gonna happen when she was gonna walk through that door. "Y-yeah" he said thinly, looking at his mug. "yeah come on" he chuckled, lightly punching his shoulder "then why are you so down?" he asked "I mean, from what I saw you seemed pretty happy about what was going on" he kept going " you didn't look like you minded being so close to her" Spencer sighed deeply, looking quickly around the room. "No, I-i didn't" he said truthfully. Of course, he didn't. Fuck, that was all he wanted. Every time she touched him he felt like he had just been blessed. He had to start hugging people just so that it wouldn't have been weird when he hugged her. He continuously made up excuses to be close to her, and went against every germophobe rule he had made for himself when it was about her. So, of course, he didn't mind it, that's the problem, he lived for it. "Then what's wrong?" Derek asked, more worried now "Did something happen?" Oh, how wrong you are, spencer thought. "No, it's fine" Spencer shook his head "I'm fine" "hey" Derek placed a hand on his shoulder "you can tell me kid " he tilted his head, trying to look him in the eyes "I wanna help" "It's-It's nothing really" he said, turning away to get out. "Spencer" Morgan's voice was low, steeped with that tone he only used with Reid, when he blocked him out, not accepting the help he needed, the help he deserved. "please talk to me" "It's stupid Derek, don't worry" Spencer turned around "I don't care" he said, stepping closer to him "I don't care if it's the stupidest thing that I'll ever hear" he put a hand on his shoulder "just - let me help you" "derek" he finally looked at him "It's nothing" Morgan sighed, sometimes Spencer was difficult, he had learned it a long time ago. He had every reason to be, but Derek felt that no matter how hard it was to get him to trust you, it was worth it, he was worth it. "What happened Spencer?" he asked again, and this time Reid sighed, looking to the ground before finding Derek's eyes. "that's the problem" his lips twitched into a sad smile "nothing happened" "hm?" Morgan frowned "I wanted it to but-" he shook his head "but-" "oh there you are" JJ opened the door "I've been looking for you all over the place" she smiled "we've got a new case" she gestured to the file she was holding "Alright, we'll be right there, thanks" Derek told her "ok" she said, quickly glancing between the two men, noticing just now the weird atmosphere of the room. She furrowed her brows at Morgan, silently asking him if there was something wrong, and when he shook his head she spoke " I'll call the others then" before getting out, closing the door behind her. "what do you mean you wanted t-" "we have to go" Spencer interrupted him, not leaving him enough time to protest before fleeing the room. He knew it was wrong, he hated this part of him, the part that blocked everyone out, creating a barrier where one wasn't needed. he hated this need of his to not trust anyone and to never ask for help, or advice, or anything really. He hated all of it, but as much as he wished to change it, for as many times as he tried, he found he couldn't, he always remained him, his old, barricaded self, that not only hurt himself, but others too. And there was no point in fighting it.

_ _ _

"good morning" Spencer forced a smile as he entered the conference room, everyone was already there, and they all greeted him. He felt like everyone was watching him, he didn't know how, but everyone knew, everyone somehow already knew. He tried to not look anybody in the eyes as he sat down in his usual chair. It creaked under his weight as he rested his back on it. Derek entered just moments after, and even if he felt his eyes on him he didn't look up, too embarrassed to even try. "where's y/n?" Emily spoke, and spencer's heart started beating faster. He had noticed she wasn't there, obviously, and a part of him couldn't help but feel relieved by it. If she didn't show up that meant he didn't have to deal with it, with his feelings, his stupid feelings he was having troubles taming down and with y/n. he wouldn't have had to panic at her sight, but that also meant he wouldn't have gotten to see her, to hear her, and suddenly he didn't feel so relieved anymore. Why wasn't she here? It wasn't because of him, he knew that, he wasn't stupid. "She said she'd be late but she should be arriving briefly" JJ explained. Thank god, at least nothing had happened. "speak of the devil" Rossi smiled, nodding at the door. "Hi, sorry I'm late" Y/n entered the room, her presence immediately filling the space, and Spencer's mind. "no problem we were just about to start" JJ smiled reassuringly "all right" she said, sitting hastily down on her chair, right next to Spencer. "hi" she greeted him briefly, her big smile making his heart skip a beat. "hi" he whispered back. She still smelled like outside, like the wind and the city, the undertone of lemons still prominent, as it always was. He didn't know if it was her shampoo or her perfume, what he knew, was that he shouldn't be thinking about either of them. They were friends. That was it. He needed to get a grip, and stop feeding into his delusions. Everything was normal, she had greeted him normally, and so had he. She wasn't thinking about him, or about last night. He was the only delusional one. It wasn't a big deal, nothing had happened. Everything was fine. Everything was fine, he kept telling himself, even as JJ started speaking, and even as his eyes involuntarily kept drifting to his coworker, his friend, her. Everything was fine.

previous part | next part

taglist (if you want to be added comment or write to me.)

@jazzerbelle14

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid Criminal Minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #fluff #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader

370 notes · View notes