#I need to talk to someone about my partner

[astrolook]

Birth Chart Observations

Jupiter in 3rd house - Have an elder sibling that's at least 4 years older than you(if had one). Enjoys storytelling. Loves to teach and takes short trips often. Make friends easily.

Saturn in 3rd house - Not that close to siblings, if had one. It can even manifest as to the point of no contact. Middle child syndrome is common with this placement. You remember birthdays of people even if you don't talk to them or like them. Could overshare their personal life with others.

Sun in 11th house - Could be surrounded by people but still feels lonely. Could be having little to no friends. Enjoys solitary activities. Googles a lot. You're comfortable talking to people online or in chat than meeting in person. Either into adoption or these natives have a step mom or step dad in some cases.

North node in 12th house - Likes to eat meat or wanted to. Enjoys solitude. Like watching horror movies at night alone. Your dreams hold deeper meanings and can even guide to light. Even hears the same music or watches the same movies over and over again. Either a teetotaler or a drunk - no in-between in some cases.

Venus in 12th house - Attracted to emotionally unavailable partners. In some cases, attracted to middle eastern partners. Sometimes these people could be in love with celebrities or someone in the public eye thinking they are their soulmate. Could be the other man/woman in relationships. Self-care is important like these people are into natural skin and hair care remedies. Probably has a bathing ritual like coffee + sugar scrub once a week LOL. Also these people even though beautiful, they won't post their pictures on social media. The Hidden Beauty.

Venus in 10th house - Could be sexualized a lot by others. This placement manifests in a way these natives can use their charm to climb up the ladder in a good way, of course, unless it's afflicted. Loves compliments. Public approval matters.

Mars in 1st house - May have an androgynous appearance. These natives , for women, dress up feminine one day and boyish the next day. Quick tempered and blunt, slamming the doors shut or raising their voice or walking away. THICC BODY. Quickly moves from one task to the next or won't like to sit still for long. Could get depressed when bored LOL. Could be into unisex clothing and experimental make-up.

Venus in 8th house - These natives would even go to a witch and cast a love spell on their partner. Too many casual relationships until they find the one in some cases, especially men. I have observed men with this placement tends to be superficial in relationships or out of convenience and when they find the one for them, these natives change overnight. In general, could gain wealth after marriage. Spouse could be richer than them. Hides their true opinions (on love and relationships) and show it only to their closest circle.

Moon in 5th house - These natives personality or appearance might fluctuate depending on their mood. Idealizes their partner. Strong maternal instinct and strong connection to children. Rich imagination but if afflicted these native imagine the worst scenario and live in their own reality where everyone is against them. Trusts people easily and might get into toxic relationships.

Moon in 12th house - These natives absorb other people's mood and energy, often feels drained in crowded environment. These natives go to a party to have fun and even a slight irritation changes their mood and now they wanted to go home. In some cases, emotional abuse from mother or is over bearing and indulges into their constantly. Suffer in isolation sometimes and hides their vulnerability. Often drawn to people who are suffering or in need. But their compassion is mostly taken advantage of by others. Their thoughts and actions contradict. Won't reveal their true opinion on things due to criticism or to fit in.

✨🌟Curious about your birth chart? DM me for a complete astrology reading and check out my pinned post for pricing! 🌟✨

[northopalshore]

🦪 Neptune in the

Union persona chart

Neptune in the Union persona chart describes your love story with your future spouse or long-term partner during the early years of your relationship. It also shows you what your partner may fancy you (find attractive about you) from the moment you've met. Works for every sexual orientation. This interpretation was made from my personal observation. Based on the charts of celebrities I've seen & people I've met in real life.

୨୧ Please do not repost without consent ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔฅ🔉

Masterlist| Union persona chart masterlist| Briede persona chart

In retrograde! There is this longing for love. In some way, your partner might be aware of you long before you've met ( or just the thought of meeting someone like you in the past). You likely have seen things that correlate to them as well whether you notice or not. Though, this also means that a lot of waiting, back & forth unpredictable changes/troubles may occur when it comes to your love life.

°22 degrees! This degree is a bit special so I'll add a bit more to it here outside of its original attachment (Capricorn degree). Your relationship is very unpredictable there is great potential for deep healing but also a "lesson" for you to overcome. There is usually a risk you must take with this. Either to stay or to go, to shame or be shamed, or to "kill or be killed".

0° degrees! Enhances the qualities of the sign & house it's in.

FS/Future spouse & partner are used interchangeably throughout the post.

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Aries (°1,°13,°25) | 1st House

Your FS is immediately struck by your beauty, or something about your charms. They love how bold and sassy you are! It can cause this sense of rushing feelings and innate sexual attraction between you & your partner (mostly your partner). Your love story is filled with passion, fast paced action, quick progress & even feature fighting, misunderstandings & hot tempers. Though the passion runs high, so does your patience. A lot of things could happen very quickly for you even from the moment you've met. It's on par with the "hot young love" troupe! It's not completely dramatic though, just expect some bickering to show up here & there.

Ex: I had an ex friend that met her boyfriend literally less than a month before dating. And like a week later, they're talking about marriage, commitment, merging families — it's a whole thing. She has Neptune in Aquarius retrograde (°13 Aries) in the 1st house. Is there trouble? Yes. But it's quite private so I won't air it out.

Taurus (°2,°14,°26) | 2nd House

Your partner is impressed by your humility, your beauty & your work or reputation (whatever that may be). I remember writing something similar in a different post, but the "household name" aspect shows up again with this Taurus placement. However that doesn't necessarily translate into being famous. Even in the most mundane world imaginable, people will still associate you with your partner. This relationship is one where you have the potential to have it all with your partner. Where both of you are very sweet to each other & attentive to your partners needs. Your relationship is very stable, and very romantic from the beginning.

Gemini (°3,°15,°27) | 3rd House

Your FS will be very impressed with your wit & knowledge. Perhaps they love the way that you talk and express yourself, the words that come out of your mouth or the things that you write really strike their interests. They also admire your intelligence and intuitive nature. Your relationship is very light-hearted & entertaining as well! You could act like best friends, or have a somewhat sibling-like relationship. You love sharing your thoughts together; and could spend a lot of time talking or going on trips. Non stop talking even.

Ex: A friend of mine has Aquarius Neptune retrograde (°15 Gemini) in the 6th house. Her fiance is from a different state & ethnicity than her, they're on the phone 24/7. They talk about everything together. Take it from me as her roommate lol. It's quite sweet actually. Since they're long distance, both of them make sure their partner is in their life one way or another. Also, they are always giving each other advice & constructive criticism (though at times, one of them feels attacked)

Cancer (°4,°16,°28) | 4th House

Your partner could be infatuated with your innocence and warm personality. Your love story is one that's very affectionate, warm and reassuring. It's the "you are my home" placement even from the beginning. You & your partner will be very easily reliant on each other for that comfort which can lead to you will also get quite attached to your partner. The progression is very natural from what I've seen & emotions run high whenever you're with your person. You could have a codependent relationship as well. Could be a "meeting young" indicator.

Ex: Michael Jackson has Neptune in Scorpio (°4 Cancer) in the 12th house. Both his ex wives were infatuated with him when they were younger. His relationship with both of them were quite codependent, though he had a special attachment to Lisa Marie Presley even long after their divorce. She was like his place of comfort especially since they met round the time when he was most shrouded in controversy. She also tried persuading him off the substance.

Leo (°5,°17,°29) | 5th House

Listen baby, your partner thinks that you are hot shit. Straight up. Your relationship is very romantic, fun and wild. From the beginning, it's as if your partner introduces you to an exciting new world. Expect a lot of flirting and eyeing each other down. Both of you are a force to be reckoned with i.e a power couple! People will adore you when you're together. It's usually an indicator of a famous couple regardless of whether you are famous or not, just because of how good you look together. The vibe you bring to the function is sexy , fun & flirty. What can I say? Your relationship is also quite sexual, there is a lot of physical intimacy & compatibility. (Or rather, day dreaming about it lol).

Ex: Both Beyoncé & Jay-Z have Neptune at °29. They both found each other very attractive and when they met, they were on a roll in their career. Both had pretty steady reputations and Beyoncé was just looking breaking into her solo career (she debuted solo with Jay-Z in 2003).

Virgo (°6,°18) | 6th House

Your partners love the potential that they see in you, like you become their motivation or blank project to work on. Your relationship grounds you & brings you safety & structure. They also admire you for your work & lifestyle (how you structure yourself & your routine). They motivate you to become a better version of yourself. Depending on your lifestyle that could be amazing or detrimental to your sanity lol. You can either feel extremely criticized or very supported.

Ex: Brigitte Bardot has Neptune in Virgo (°13 Aries) in the 3rd house but it's also conjuncting the IC (°17 Leo). She's had several husbands, the first one was passionate and most beneficial to her career (helped her rise to fame). The second was quite hard, rigid & controlling from what I've read (disagreed with her lifestyle). The third was romantic & avant-garde (he was a German billionaire playboy lol) but short lived. The last marriage is private but seemingly quite supportive & a steady man to settle down with. Truly, a perfect example for all her placements.

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Libra (°7,°19) | 7th House

Your FS will be very impressed by your grace & poise. Perhaps to them, you symbolize the ideal woman/man. They'll think of you as beautiful and elegant & classy (at least classier than them in a sense). Your partner will be very attracted to you and find everything about you lovely. As for your love story, it is incredibly romantic & dreamy! There is usually traditional courting involved with this placement.

Ex: Priscilla Presley has Neptune (°7 Libra) in Libra 4th house. Elvis found Priscilla to be beautiful and courteous despite her age (he was likely attracted to that child-like "purity" of hers as well since she was only 14 when they met. Their relationship was very romantic especially in the beginning. They did have a proper relationship despite the aforementioned age gap!

My mom has Neptune in Sagittarius (°7 Libra) in the 6th house. Both my parents act like high school sweethearts in a way (even though they aren't). You know the good girl & bad boy trope from Crybaby? It's one of my favorite movies but it reminds me of my parents ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ! Or maybe they're closer to Hank & Peggy Hill's relationship (Kind of the Hill). They act like best friends and still do till this day, but can be quite naggy at each other.

Scorpio (°8,°20) | 8th House

Your love story is the least straightforward love story ever & likely the toughest as well. There will be a lot of personal struggles, unforeseen trouble, push & pull and potential squabbling (which could come from a multitude lot of reasons). Your love requires sacrifice, and overcoming trauma, going through the fire to be born anew. It's as if you need to be born again just to be with each other or being together helps you realize a lot of your flaws & inhibitions. This love is revitalizing, hot, & scandalous. Trouble lies ahead but can be rewarding in the end after you've dealt with the trouble. There is always a hot sizzling attraction with this placement & the lovers are usually obsessed/possessive with each other (in both a good & bad way). Though it also means your relationship has the ability to withstand a lot of pressure.

Sagittarius (°9,°21) | 9th House

Your relationship is very fun and entertaining. You and your partner are a humorous and open-minded duo; there is nothing that you cannot share or express with your partner. Even when you become old farts you'll still crack jokes and treat each other as you did in your younger days. You are each other's biggest motivators and energizers. No day with your partner is wasted or left ignored as you have a tendency of sharing your interest, thoughts, and doing/exploring new things together. This is one of the healthiest placements that I've seen in any relationship (provided you are open to playfulness & fooling around at times). You may also travel together often (or to each other).

Ex: Ryan Reynolds has Neptune in Sagittarius (°14 Taurus ) in the 12th house & Blake Lively has Neptune in Capricorn °9 Sagittarius in her 9th house. They were always the fun couple, you can see from how they act, they love to poke fun at each other and entertain each other. Literally trolling one another too. Still, they are both very supportive and most times they seem to be on the same page.

Capricorn (°10,°22) | 10th House

Your FS is very attracted to your professionalism, and your work ethic. Literally being impressed by how "cool", calm & collected you are! There is usually a separation phase which is very prominent in your relationship. Like you can't get with each other at least not face to face often, or something causes a lot of "cold" feelings, detachment & frustrations. A delay for commitment & dating. Your relationship takes time and a lot of effort to maintain, but if you can handle the turbulence, it's smooth sailing from there. Your relationship has the potential to last a very, verrry long time given the right treatment. Most of the people who have this work with their partner but it's not exclusive to that scenario.

Ex: Zendaya has Neptune in Capricorn (°25 Aries) in the 4th house. Tom said in an interview that he found Zendaya's professionalism & down to earth nature very impressive. The dating rumors started very early (on the set on Spider Man when they first started working together in 2017) but their relationship did not develop or at least wasn't that consistent as Zendaya has dated others before they finally got together again in mid 2021. Ever since then, they have been going steady & are engaged.

Safiya Nygaard has Neptune in Capricorn (°20 Scorpio) in the 11th house (conjuncting Uranus). She & Tyler met at university & were friends for a long time before they started dating. Even when they started dating, they were quite preoccupied with their own goals & interests; with Safiya working with Buzzfeed & he had his own technology centered business as well. However, after Safiya started her own Channel & invested time there, he started working with her too (supporting her). They have worked closely together ever since!

Aquarius (°11,°23) | 11th House

Your relationship will be very well known in one way or another. You could be quite popular online if you post couple content, either way, people want to see you & your partner together; people are naturally more attracted/curious about your relationship. Other than that, in a way, your relationship will defy the norm. You change something about how people, view love, commitment and connection. Nobody, literally nobody would ever think you'd be with your partner. On the most basic level, it's different. Can indicate a interracial relationship as well (since that where I've seen it show up the most).

Ex: Beyoncé & Lisa have Neptune in Aquarius. No ho none, nobody, expected either one of them to end up with who they are with now. It was very surprising to the public when both their relationships were revealed.

Guess, who has this placement too? Jungkook! (Neptune in Aquarius °0, 2nd house). For him, it will make sense just a little while longer. You can expect him to end up with someone opposite (much different) of what people thought he would/hoped/wanted to see him with. I'd love to explain, but it's not the time for it. Not yet.

Pisces (°12,°24) | 12th House

Your FS finds you completely enchanting & almost unreal. They could see you as "perfect" as well! The love you have is genuine, and built solely on love and adoration. Your relationship is very private, and you could even keep it hidden from those around you. There is usually some form of distance and delay involved with you & your partner but it's not completely restrictive (remaining mostly in contact). You progress very slowly with your relationship but the love & fascination only grows stronger as time goes by. This is an extremely romantic placement to have.

Ex: Beyoncé has Neptune in Sagittarius (°24 Pisces) in the 2nd house. They met in 2000 but didn't really start dating until around 2002 (speculated due to their collaborations that year). When they started making music together, their brands sort of merged together. Even later in the relationship, a lot of Beyoncé's love songs were centered around Jay-Z & vice versa.

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Thank you for reading ♡ support?

@northopalshore

@northopalshore union persona chart 2025 all rights reserved. Disclaimer.

[thetarotyapper]

how will your future partner/spouse show their affection towards you? (pick-a-card reading)

paid services 18+ paid services tarot community ko-fi

(how to pick a card? observe the given options and choose the one which you feel the most drawn to. scroll down to read your message!! remember, this is a general reading, so take what resonates! ps.- if you feel drawn to more than one card/image/pile, feel free to read the others too!! if the chosen pile doesn't relate to you, feel free to choose another. the choice is yours<3)

۶ৎ pile I ۶ৎ

10 of cups, knight of wands, the chariot, 4 of swords, the emperor, strength, 6 of swords, 2 of swords 

babe, the cards for your reading was LITERALLY falling out. like your person had no chill😭. their energy came off as very messy and dominating. it's almost like they lose their control over you. i'm not even kidding when i say that i'm literally feeling so hot right now. like your person's energy is STRONG. phew okay with that being said, let's get to your reading hehe. 

your person is going to show their affection towards you by always being there for you and protecting you. they just give off such safe vibes, it's so heartwarming. “oh you need help with this? let go of it, babe. i got this”, typa vibes. you can always, and mark my words when i say this - ALWAYS depend on your person. they're not the type to get irritated with you. they're patient, kind and also very understanding. i see you feeling all soft and giddy with them lol, and i honestly don't blame you. they're the type of person who loves taking care of their partner and they'll go out of their way to make you feel satisfied. and seeing you happy makes them happy. i would be lying if i said i'm not giggling while writing your reading. THIS IS EVERY PERSON'S DREAM PARTNER. they'll be your backbone and they'll be with you through thick and thin. they might not be very verbal about their love for you but their actions will show it. they're a firm believer of ‘actions speak louder than words’. OH MY GOD i just imagined you trying to reach a box in a cabinet but it's too high and you're struggling to reach it and then BOOM your person is right behind you, getting the box for you with ease. they might be someone who is very tall and i see them having nice biceps. they might like the colour black or dark colours and they might have facial hair. i'm also seeing that you might be a little submissive towards them and you will try to act cutesy and ‘weak’ in front of them so that they can help you. you can do the things yourself, but you like it when they do it for you because then you'll get to see their muscles flex. ahem pile 1, you're smart🤭. 

acts of service is one of their love languages. i'm also seeing that they'll love providing you with guidance and they'll do so with great patience. i'm getting the energy here that they might be someone who is older than you or they're someone who is emotionally mature for their age. 

they're going to show their love for you by being very fiery and passionate. they literally can't keep their hands to themselves. AHH I JUST FELT SOMETHING WHISPER IN MY EAR. they might like to whisper sweet nothings to you and might even like to nibble at your ear a lot. lots of sloppy, heated and passionate kisses coming through😳. im seeing that they will love to take you out on a lot of dates and might like to go out and do fun activities because i'm getting a lot of movement energy here. they'll also love it when you voice out what you want. they want to meet your needs. they want to be your provider. they want to serve you. 

they'll also love cuddling with you and i see that they might like to be the big spoon. they'll love listening to you rant and it's one of their love languages. they love listening to you talk. they're going to show their affection towards you by acting as a ‘stress-free’ plushie for you where you can take out all your frustrations on them. and i also see them helping you understand your emotions and calming you down. if you're wrong, they'll make you realise that you're wrong in the most healthy and understanding way, instead of lashing out on you. they're not the type to get angry. in fact, they'll hardly get angry. they'll help you release control. they'll show their affection towards you by providing you with emotional support and by helping you face your challenges. your person might take some time to open up to you and show their affection towards you in the beginning, but that doesn't mean they don't love you. some people take their time opening up and they're one of them. but always know that regardless of what happens, they'll always have your back. they also might not be very verbal, but they won't hesitate to show you how much they love you. 

۶ৎ pile II ۶ৎ

8 of pentacles, the sun, 7 of cups, 2 of cups, 2 of swords, 2 of wands, the moon, the emperor

pile 2, your person is going to SPOIL you like crazy. like omg me when🏃‍♀️🚶‍♀️. like y'all are so lucky and you deserve it!! your person is a hard worker and they're literally doing their best so that they can spoil you. BYE THE WORD “babygirl” JUST CHANNELED THROUGH HEHEHE. seeing you happy is literally all they want in life and they're going to go out of their way to see you smile. “you want this gucci purse? okay, but make sure to take something else too. don't make me look poor”. LIKE UGHHH IM LITERALLY SCREAMING. sugar daddy/mommy who?👀 hahahaa. 

your person radiates this warmth, it's so hard to ignore. your person gives a lot of child-like energy and they're very sensitive towards you. like no one is gonna mess with their partner🤭🤭. if y'all ever get married, they will literally flaunt you and they'll love saying “my wife”/”my husband” like ajahajahjahajaja. they're such a cutie patootie im not gonna lie. like awww they are such a fool for you. they'll never make you feel like you're missing something. you'll get ANYTHING you want.

your person is so fulfilling, like ugh where have you been this whole time!!! they're going to have their eyes on you and ONLY you. they might be a little submissive or they aren't afraid to be vulnerable towards you. i see that they will like it when you praise them a lot. like if you call them a good boy/girl, they're literally gonna go crazy. I WAS TRYING TO KEEP THIS READING AS FRIENDLY AND SFW AS POSSIBLE BUT I JUST COULDN'T IGNORE THIS PART. they might be like a golden retriever typa person. 

i'm also seeing that they might be a little insecure because they might feel like they aren't good for you because you might have a lot of potential suitors and they feel like you'll pick those people over them. they're constantly worried about that. and that might also be one of the reasons why they always want to spoil you so much. they're scared of losing you. and not to mention, they would love to surprise you with gifts and every present they buy has a deep meaning behind it. they want to spend the rest of their life with you and they won't be afraid to show it. they're almost pathetic for you lol (we all love someone who is love-crazy over us 🤭🤭). 

your person is also someone who is very honest and real about their feelings for you. they're going to show their affection by being completely raw and natural with you. they won't beat around the bush. they're very straightforward. they will also help you face your fears and they want you to know that no matter how hard life gets, they'll always be there for you. 

your person is going to show their affection towards you by putting in the effort towards the relationship. they're going to be so patient and loving towards you. they might also like to playfully tease you in public. your person does not have a said love language like pile 1. they're all over the place, but they're fulfilling. they'll never make you feel deprived of their love. you're literally going to be their first priority. the song “no.1 party anthem” by arctic monkeys just came to my mind - the look of love, the rush of blood…. oh pile 2, your person is such a sucker for you. you've got them wrapped around your fingertips. they want to build a future with you. but at the same time, they're scared of what the future holds for them. they're scared you'll find someone better, and it breaks their heart.  you'll need to build trust with your partner and you will need to show them that you're here to say forever. they might get a little possessive towards you but it's because of pure jealousy. they might also have abandonment issues, so you'll need to be very understanding towards them. suddenly i got the energy here that they might be controlling over who you talk to and what you wear, but this can be avoided if you clearly communicate with one another. this behaviour of theirs will make you feel a little strained sometimes but you'll also have to understand that there might have been a very deep rooted trauma as to why they're acting this way. i'm getting the energy here that their family life or their past relationships might not have been that great and that is why they act this way. if you do not like their behaviour, then please voice it out. 

۶ৎ pile III ۶ৎ

page of cups, 3 of wands, 4 of pentacles, 10 of wands, the chariot, the moon, 7 of pentacles, queen of swords, queen of wands 

for some reason, im seeing that y'all would go on cute art dates or dates where y'all would like to do cutesy stuff. lots of paintings and colours came to my mind. maybe pile 3, you could be an artist or maybe your person will be. or maybe you both have an interest in art - either as a profession or a hobby. 

i'm going to be honest, either you or your person have been through a lot. one of you (im mostly getting the energy of your future partner/spouse) would have taken a break from relationships and might have even given up on love. i'm seeing a lot of hurt and mistrust here. relationships might have felt like a job rather than an emotional connection. but here's the thing, when you guys meet each other, everything will change. i'm seeing cherry blossom trees. this relationship is going to be life changing and transformative. your ideas on love will entirely change when you meet one another. this relationship is going to be a new beginning. 

your person is going to show their affection towards you by making you a part of their life. they're going to involve you in each and everything and they're going to try out new things with you. i see you healing their inner child. they're going to be very expressive and emotional with you. i see this relationship moving forward very fast. your person is someone who is very creative so they're going to show their affection towards you in creative ways such as writing you love letters, poetry, painting or they might even cook your favourite meal. they might be an introvert and might be a little nerdy. 

this relationship is going to be very nurturing and im seeing a lot of growth here. your person will also help you come up with creative ideas for your work and they might also help you explore your interests and will support your ambition. they'll love to see you grow and they'll be so proud of you. they're going to be very protective over you because they have never felt this way for anyone. they might also love cuddling/hugging you a lot. your touch gives them this sense of safety. your person might be someone who is under-confident and i see them finding it hard to maintain eye contact with you. i see you helping them build their confidence and i see you supporting them throughout their journey. my dear pile 3, you're such a beautiful person. you're such an understanding person, the world deserves more people like you. i see you being so patient towards them and it honestly warms my heart. at first, they might be a little hesitant to open up to you because of their trust issues and it might take them some time. but your understanding and kind nature will help them to eventually open up. pile 3, i want to give my heartfelt thanks to you because your energy is so lovely, i feel so safe. thank you for being here, pile 3. i truly mean it. 

your person is very sensitive to your emotions so if something bothers you, it bothers them. i see them helping you with your responsibilities by taking on half of your burden and guiding you through your difficult times. they're going to help you stand your ground. i'm also seeing that sometimes they might feel overwhelmed with your love and they might try to push you away, but you understand them so i see you both working through it. your person wants to work things out with you and they want to move this relationship forward. they will be a little hesitant and closed off, but i see you both working through it. i'm also seeing that their actions will be calculated because they are scared of disappointing you or making you angry and honestly this is so sad. they have gone through a lot, pile 3. sometimes you might get tired and irritated with their emotions, but you need to understand where they are coming from. i agree it can be frustrating, but you need to realise that you're the only one they can be so vulnerable towards and that's why they are so open with you. you understand them. this relationship will progress slowly, but it is going to be a very emotionally fulfilling relationship. 

your person is not the type to show their affection in public because they don't like anyone in their business. they might show subtle and soft gestures in public. but when you both are alone, they're raw and honest. sometimes you might feel like they don't show you off or that they aren't very affectionate towards you and if it bothers you, please speak up. your person is afraid of making a move because sometimes they feel like they make you uncomfortable but you need to show them that you want them to be affectionate towards you. they prefer it when you're honest and direct with them and i'm seeing that they prefer it when you tell them what you want. communication is the main key in this relationship. 

i'm also seeing that sometimes your partner might feel bold and will be very flirtatious with you and this might catch you off guard. they are a shy baby, but underneath that surface is a whole new world that will be unlocked only as time passes by and when trust is built from both ends. they might struggle showing affection sometimes, but they'll try their best to make you feel wanted and loved.

hi loves!! i hope this reading finds you in good health and i hope you are doing well. take care of yourself and i will see you in my next reading. thank you for being here<3

(note: tarot & oracle cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, feelings and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!)

જ⁀➴ all credit for the pictures & dividers goes to their rightful owners and creators.

[bueckersstuff]

HER NEW OBSESSION

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Your new dorm is surprisingly cozy. It’s smaller than the one you shared with Paige, but it feels warmer, more lived-in. Your new roommate, Lena, is someone from your psych class—someone who had always been friendly, even before all this mess. It’s ironic, really. Last week, you were losing your mind trying to understand why Paige wanted nothing to do with you. Now? Now, you can’t even stand the sight of her. Maybe it’s anger, maybe it’s betrayal, or maybe—maybe you just don’t care anymore.

You’ve stopped overanalyzing your emotions, stopped letting them dig under your skin like splinters you can’t pull out. It’s easier this way.

The classroom is buzzing when you walk in. Lena sits beside you, nudging your arm. “You good?”

You nod, offering a small smile. “Yeah.”

But then, she walks in.

Paige.

It takes everything in you not to look, not to acknowledge her presence, not to flinch at the way the room still seems to shift when she’s in it. You keep your focus on Lena, on anything but Paige. Maybe it’s your imagination, but you swear you can feel Paige’s gaze on you, burning, searching—but you don’t give her the satisfaction of meeting it.

The professor clears his throat. “Alright, class. For this project, you’ll be working in pairs. Since this is an extensive assignment, I’ve taken the liberty of pairing you up beforehand.”

The group project was announced, and the professor immediately paired you with Paige, assuming you were still roommates. The class murmured in agreement. It was common knowledge before. But you didn’t hesitate.

“No.”

Your voice cuts through the room before you even realize you spoke. Silence blankets the class. All eyes are on you now, wide with shock, with disbelief. The weight of their stares presses against your skin, but you don’t waver. You sit up straighter, your voice unwavering when you continue.

“I don’t room with her anymore.” You glance at Lena, your expression softening. “I’d rather work with my actual roommate.”

A few hushed whispers ripple through the room. People exchange glances, some amused, some impressed. You catch snippets of murmured words—

Did she really just refuse Paige? Damn, that’s bold. I didn’t think anyone would have the guts to do that.

But none of it matters. Not the whispers, not the stares.

You don’t even want to look at her, but something—some stupid, masochistic instinct—forces your gaze toward her anyway.

And there it is.

The look on her face.

Like she was hoping—just for a second—that things weren’t completely ruined. That maybe, despite everything, you’d still be in her corner.

But you’re not.

You see it happen—the way that flicker of hope dies right in front of you. Her jaw tightens, her expression schooling into something unreadable, something controlled. But her eyes? They betray her. They hold something raw, something aching.

It doesn’t make sense. She’s the one who pushed you away. She’s the one who made this choice.

So why does she look like you just ripped her heart out?

The professor, sensing the tension, clears his throat awkwardly. “Alright, then. You’ll be paired with Lena. Paige, I’ll find you another partner.”

You don’t hesitate. You turn to Lena, smiling, forcing yourself to look happy, unaffected, free.

But even as Lena grins back at you, even as you pretend this moment means nothing—you can’t shake the way Paige is still looking at you.

Like she just lost something she didn’t know she wanted to keep.

The project continued, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were truly living. Your new roommate, Lena, made things so easy—easy to talk to, easy to get along with, and easy to work with. The two of you were constantly together, studying in the library, grabbing coffee, and finishing your project late at night in your dorm. It was the kind of companionship you hadn’t realized you needed, the kind that reminded you that life wasn’t just about navigating through Paige Bueckers’ mess.

Late at night, as you settled in your bed, your phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.

KK: Hey, it’s KK. Got your number from Paige. Hope that’s cool.

You barely had time to process before another message came through—a forwarded file. You clicked it, and suddenly, a series of images filled your screen.

The first photo was of Paige in her dorm, sprawled on the couch, fast asleep. A jacket covered her face, one you recognized instantly. It was hers, but you were the one who had been using it lately. The one you had left behind when you moved out.

The next photo showed her sitting at the kitchen counter, two mugs in front of her, staring blankly into nothing.

The last was a video. You hesitated before playing it, but curiosity got the best of you.

"Paige, seriously?" Jana’s voice rang out, frustration laced with exasperation.

"I just don’t see why it’s a big deal," Paige mumbled, her voice hoarse. She was pacing the dorm, rubbing a hand over her face.

"You want to switch rooms. Again." Jana deadpanned. "Paige. It’s been what? A week?"

Paige didn’t answer. Just ran a hand through her hair.

Jana sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "Look, I get it. I’m not, like, the best roommate replacement or whatever—"

"That’s not it." Paige cut in quickly. Too quickly.

Jana narrowed her eyes. "Then what? ‘Cause no offense, but you’ve been acting like a total weirdo since your last roommate left."

Paige let out a breath. "I just—" She stopped, pressing her lips together. "I don’t sleep well here."

Jana blinked. "Damn, I didn’t know I was that unbearable."

Paige shook her head, letting out a dry, humorless laugh. "You’re fine, Jana. It’s just—"

Silence.

Jana stared at her. Then, realization flickered in her expression. "You miss her."

Paige’s jaw tensed. "I just need a change of scenery. That’s all."

Jana scoffed. "Sure. And I just need a million dollars."

Paige groaned, rubbing her temples. "Can you just drop it?"

"Fine, fine," Jana raised her hands in surrender. "But for real, Paige? You fucked up."

The video ended there.

You stared at your phone, heart pounding, stomach twisting.

KK’s message followed right after.

Paige is acting like an idiot.

You locked your phone and tossed it onto your desk, exhaling sharply.

You weren’t going to reply.

Jana had just returned from practice when she found Paige exactly where she left her that morning—sprawled out on the couch, an arm draped over her face, still in the same hoodie and sweats from yesterday. The dorm was a mess, a few empty water bottles on the floor, a half-eaten granola bar on the counter, and a general air of chaos that Jana wasn’t used to.

She sighed, shutting the door behind her a little louder than necessary. “Alright, nah. I’m putting a stop to this.”

Paige didn’t even flinch.

Jana marched over and snatched the pillow from under Paige’s head, smacking her lightly with it. “Paige, you know I love you, right? But what the fuck is going on with you?”

Paige groaned, pushing the pillow away and sitting up, rubbing her face. “Jana, I swear to God—”

“No, you swear to God what?” Jana folded her arms, staring her down. “If you’re not drowning in your own sadness inside this dorm, you’re whoring around. And when you’re done, you come back here and I hear someone sobbing in the middle of the night. Do you have any idea how fucking creepy that is?”

Paige’s jaw tightened. “Mind your business.”

“Oh, I would love to, except my business is being your roommate, which means I’m forced to watch this self-destructive spiral firsthand.” Jana shot back. “You’ve been slacking at practice, Paige. Coach is bound to notice soon, and I swear I have no idea how the hell he hasn’t already.”

Paige ran a hand down her face. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.”

Silence. Paige refused to meet Jana’s gaze.

Jana exhaled sharply, pulling out her phone. “You leave me no choice.”

“What are you doing?” Paige asked, barely interested.

Jana put the phone to her ear. “Calling Azzi. Someone who actually gives a damn about you and will get through that thick-ass skull of yours.”

Paige finally looked up, but before she could protest, Jana turned her back and walked toward her room, waiting for the call to connect.

An hour later, Azzi was standing in the dorm, arms crossed as she took in the sight of Paige.

“Damn, P, you look like shit.”

Paige scoffed, shaking her head. “Thanks.”

Azzi sighed, walking over and sitting on the couch beside her. Jana was leaning against the counter, arms still folded, watching.

“Alright, talk to me,” Azzi said. “What’s going on?”

Paige stared at the floor. “Nothing.”

Azzi scoffed. “Try again.”

Paige remained quiet. Azzi nudged her knee. “Paige, come on. Jana said you’ve been… spiraling.”

“I’m not spiraling.”

Jana let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, okay. Tell that to the two mugs you leave out every morning like you’re waiting for someone. Or the jacket you sleep with like it’s a person. Or, I don’t know, the fact that you literally tried to swap rooms with me last night.”

Azzi’s brows furrowed. “Paige, talk to us.”

Paige sighed, finally looking up at her. “I just… I thought maybe if I sleep in that room, I wouldn’t—” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Azzi studied her for a moment before speaking again, softer this time. “Paige, are you regretting it?”

Paige swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

Azzi tilted her head. “That’s not true. You do know.”

Paige clenched her jaw. “Yeah. I regret it. Okay? I fucking regret everything.”

Jana and Azzi shared a look, but neither said anything. Paige exhaled harshly, rubbing her temples.

“I pushed her away,” Paige admitted, her voice quieter now. “I thought… I don’t know. I thought it was for the best. But now she’s gone, and I feel like I can’t breathe. She won’t even look at me, and I don’t blame her.”

Azzi watched her for a long moment before nodding. “Then fix it.”

Paige let out a dry laugh. “How? She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Azzi leaned forward, leveling her with a look. “Then make her want to. Do something, Paige. Anything. Don’t just sit here and drown in your own misery.”

Paige ran a hand through her hair, looking away. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Azzi stood up, patting Paige’s knee before walking toward the door. “Follow your heart, P. That’s always a good place to start.”

With that, she left. Jana lingered for a moment before shaking her head. “She’s right, you know.”

Paige stayed silent.

Jana sighed. “Figure it out before it’s too late.” Then she walked off, leaving Paige alone with her thoughts.

For the first time in weeks, Paige realized how loud the silence was.

It started last Monday. At first, you thought you were imagining things. Maybe it was just a coincidence. But now? Now it’s beyond coincidence.

Paige Bueckers is everywhere.

At first, it was subtle. You’d glance up in class and find her staring—not the casual, spaced-out kind of staring, but the kind that burns. The kind that makes the back of your neck prickle. The second your eyes met, she looked away, but it happened too often to be a fluke. Then, in the library, as you and your roommate, Lena, buried yourselves in research for your project, Paige conveniently ended up at a table nearby. She wasn’t even pretending to study, just flipping through a textbook she clearly had no interest in. She was listening. Watching.

Then, today happened.

You and Lena were walking through campus, laughing over some dumb joke, when suddenly, Paige materialized in front of you, effectively cutting you off. You stumbled back a step, startled.

Paige barely glanced at you before her sharp, ice-blue eyes landed on Lena. “You don’t have class right now?” Her tone was flat, almost accusatory.

Lena, unfazed, raised an eyebrow. “No? Why?”

Paige tilted her head, expression unreadable. “Just wondering why you’re always up in her space.”

You frowned. “Excuse me?”

Paige ignored you, her eyes still locked onto Lena. The hostility in her gaze was clear. It didn’t make sense—she and Lena weren’t even acquaintances, just classmates. And yet, Paige was looking at her like she’d just stolen something from her.

Lena scoffed, crossing her arms. “I dunno, Paige. Maybe because we’re partners for a project?”

Paige let out a short, humorless chuckle, shaking her head like she didn’t believe a word of it. “Right.”

And then, just as suddenly as she appeared, she turned and walked away, leaving you both staring after her.

“What the actual fuck was that?” Lena muttered.

You had no answer. But one thing was clear—Paige wasn’t done.

The encounters kept coming, each one pushing the boundaries of coincidence.

In class, she always found a way to sit near you, even though she never used to care about seating arrangements. Her foot would nudge yours under the table, and when you moved away, she’d do it again, just to let you know she was there. When the professor asked a question, she answered louder than necessary, like she needed you to hear her voice.

In the dining hall, if you were with Lena, Paige would always pass by. Always. You’d see her walking one way, then five minutes later, she’d pass by again, this time slower, glancing at your table but never stopping.

You knew what she was doing, but you didn’t know why.

And you refused to acknowledge it.

Then came today, the final straw.

You and Lena were in the common study area, laptops open, deep in conversation about the project. You were actually enjoying yourself—things had been lighter, easier lately, now that Paige wasn’t in your space every second of the day.

But, of course, that didn’t last long.

The door opened, and in walked Paige.

She didn’t even pretend she was there for anything else. She walked straight up to your table, her presence a heavy weight in the room.

“Lena, you can go now.”

Lena blinked, then let out a laugh, looking at you as if asking, ‘Is she serious?’

You clenched your jaw. “She’s not going anywhere.”

Paige’s gaze snapped to yours, something unreadable flashing in her eyes. “We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t.” You forced yourself to stay composed. “Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it.”

Paige exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair in frustration. She glanced at Lena again, and for the first time, it hit you—this wasn’t just her being weird. Is she jealous?

Of Lena?

Of all the things Paige had done, this was the most unexpected. And maybe the most infuriating.

“What the hell is your problem?” you snapped. “You made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me, and now you’re—what? Following me? Harassing my friends?”

Paige flinched like you’d hit her, but just as quickly, her expression hardened. “I never said I wanted nothing to do with you.”

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “You didn’t have to.”

Paige’s jaw clenched. For a second, it looked like she wanted to say something, but then she just shook her head, muttered something under her breath, and walked out.

Lena whistled low. “Damn. That was intense.”

You didn’t respond. Your hands were still shaking.

Because for the first time, you saw it—Paige wasn’t just being annoying.

She was fighting for you.

But you had no idea why.

You were hunched over your desk, fingers tapping lazily against the keyboard as you worked on your project with your roommate. The soft hum of lo-fi music played in the background, a comfortable contrast to the quiet concentration filling the room. For once, things felt normal again. No unexpected drama, no lingering glances in class, no unwanted tension. Just you, your work, and your new friend.

But peace never lasted long when Paige Bueckers was involved.

The sharp knock at the door shattered the calm, making both you and your roommate jump slightly. You frowned. No one ever came over this late. Lena shot you a questioning look, but you ignored it as you got up to open the door.

And there she was.

Paige stood in the doorway, her breathing uneven like she had sprinted all the way here. Her eyes, those sharp blues that you had once admired, looked wild—desperate. You blinked, taking a step back out of sheer instinct.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Your voice was cold, detached, but your heart was hammering against your ribs.

Paige’s gaze flickered over your shoulder, where your roommate was still sitting, staring at the both of you in confusion. And then it clicked.

Her jaw clenched. “So this is what you’ve been up to?”

You scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“You and her.” Paige gestured sharply toward your roommate, her entire body tensing like she was ready for a fight. “This is why you were so quick to move on? Didn’t took you long, huh?”

You laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Are you serious right now?”

“Paige, I think you need to—” your roommate started, but Paige cut her off with a glare.

“Stay out of this,” she snapped, her voice laced with venom.

Your roommate raised her hands in surrender before shooting you a look, silently asking if you wanted her to leave. You gave a slight nod. With a sigh, she grabbed her laptop and muttered something about studying in the common room before slipping out the door.

The second it shut, Paige turned back to you, her chest rising and falling heavily. “So that’s it?” she demanded. “You just replaced me?”

Your blood boiled. “You made me leave.”

Paige flinched.

“You think I wanted to move out?” you continued, stepping closer, anger seeping through your words. “You think I wanted to lose my home—my comfort—because you decided I wasn’t good enough to be around anymore?”

“That’s not—” Paige ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “That’s not what happened.”

“Then tell me, Paige,” you shot back. “Tell me what happened. Why did you push me away? Why did you act like I didn’t exist, like I meant nothing, and now, suddenly, you’re here, acting like you have a say in my life?”

Paige exhaled sharply, like she was trying to hold herself together. “Because I was scared, alright?” she admitted. “I was fucking scared.”

You frowned. “Scared of what?”

“Of you.” Her voice cracked, raw and unfiltered. “Of how much I fucking need you.”

Silence.

Your chest ached, but you refused to let yourself soften. “No,” you said. “You don’t get to do this.”

Paige’s face twisted in frustration. “Do what?”

“This.” You gestured between you both. “You don’t get to throw me away, regret it, and then come back like nothing happened. Like I owe you another chance.”

Paige stepped closer. Too close. You could smell the faint traces of her cologne, could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “I never wanted to throw you away.”

“Then why did you?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Paige swallowed, her gaze searching yours. “Because I thought it would hurt less.”

Your breath hitched. You wanted to believe her. You wanted to believe every damn word. But the wounds she left were still fresh, still aching.

Paige lifted a hand, hesitantly brushing her fingers against your arm. Your body tensed, and for a split second, you considered leaning in. Considered falling back into the warmth that once felt like home.

But then reality hit you like a train.

“Did you love me?” you asked suddenly, your voice quiet but firm. “Or was it just your fleeting desire?”

Paige’s eyes widened, her hand dropping like she had been burned. “What?”

“You heard me.” You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “Because right now, it feels like you only wanted me when it was convenient. When you needed me. When you wanted something to hold at night.”

Paige shook her head quickly. “No. No, that’s not—”

“Then why did you push me away?” you cut her off. “Why did you make me feel like I was nothing, Paige?”

Paige’s lips parted, but no words came out. For the first time, she had nothing to say.

You nodded, feeling your chest tighten. “That’s what I thought.”

You turned away, gripping the edge of your desk to keep your hands from shaking. “Go home, Paige.”

She hesitated, lingering in the doorway like she wanted to say more. But in the end, she didn’t.

The door clicked shut behind her, and the second she was gone, you finally allowed yourself to breathe.

And that was the last time you saw Paige Bueckers, at least face to face.

It had been weeks since that confrontation in your dorm, and in that time, she had become a ghost. She stopped acknowledging you in the hallways, in class. Stopped being anywhere you were, as if you had never existed to her at all.

You were furious, humiliated, and worst of all—hurt. Because you haven't been the one to walk away first. You haven't been the one to set everything on fire and leave without looking back. She had.

And you couldn’t even get an explanation.

You left UConn the second you could.

Graduated, packed up your life, and never looked back.

There were moments, of course, where you wanted to—when a game would come on TV and you'd see her on the screen, or when you'd overhear someone talking about women’s basketball and her name would come up like a legend in the making.

But you trained yourself to tune it out. Paige Bueckers didn’t exist in your world anymore.

You built a new life.

Moved to the city, got a stable job in a company downtown, found a beautiful apartment just perfect for you to live in, a loving best friend who makes your life a little bit happier. She knew about Paige, about the past, about everything that had nearly ruined you.

“You don’t miss her?” she had asked once.

You hesitated, then shook your head. “No. I miss who I thought she was.”

And it was true.

Paige had been your friend, your roommate, your almost-something before she threw it all away. If you missed anything, it was the version of her that didn’t exist anymore—the one who used to wait up for you in your dorm, who used to shove an extra granola bar into your bag before class, who used to look at you like you were the only person in the room.

But that Paige was gone.

Or so you thought.

Because on a random Friday night, in a bar you had never seen her in before, you looked up—and there she was.

Years older. Sharper. The weight of her career settling into her features like something heavy, something unshakable.

And she was looking directly at you.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

The bar was dimly lit, music thrumming in the background, a blur of conversations and clinking glasses filling the space between you. And yet, all Paige could focus on was you. Sitting at the far end of the room, elbow resting on the bar counter, a half-empty glass in front of you.

You looked different. Not just older, not just sharper, but—settled. Like life had been kinder to you than it had been to her.

And for a split second, something flashed in your eyes. Recognition? Discomfort? She didn’t know. But she knew one thing for sure—you weren’t happy to see her.

You turned back to your drink, pretending she wasn’t there. Pretending she hadn’t just unraveled years of carefully built distance with one look.

But ignoring you had never been easy for Paige.

Minutes passed, maybe more, and just when she thought she should leave, she found herself walking toward you instead. The pull was still there, even after all this time.

She stopped beside you, close enough to feel the warmth of your presence but not enough to invade your space.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Your posture stiffened, but you didn’t turn to her right away. Instead, you took a slow sip of your drink, as if gathering your thoughts. “Yeah, well. Life’s full of surprises.”

She let out a breath that could’ve been a laugh, but there was no humor in it.

Paige didn’t know what she expected—maybe that you’d brush her off, maybe that you’d demand answers she still wasn’t sure how to give. But as she stood there, watching you, she realized she needed to ask. Needed to know.

“Are you happy?”

She saw the way your fingers tightened around your glass, the way your shoulders locked like you were bracing for impact. You turned to her then, eyes sharp, guarded.

“Why do you care?”

Paige swallowed. She didn’t have an answer you’d want to hear. Didn’t have the right words to explain why she had walked away back then. Why she had forced you out of her life when all she had ever wanted was to pull you closer.

But she had to know. Had to believe that what she did had been worth something. That the sacrifice she made—the one that shattered her, the one you never even knew about—had meant something in the end.

She looked away, swirling the remnants of her drink in her glass. And finally, almost too quiet to be heard—

“Because I had to believe it was worth it.”

Your expression flickered, something unreadable flashing in your eyes, but Paige saw the moment your walls went up. The moment you shut her out, just as she had once done to you.

You pushed back from the bar, grabbing your coat.

“You don’t get to ask me that, Paige.”

Her stomach twisted. She wanted to stop you, wanted to explain—but she didn’t. She just sat there, watching you walk out of the bar, out into the cold night air, leaving her behind.

Just like she had left you.

The cold night air did little to settle the storm in Paige’s chest.

She watched you leave, her fingers twitching against the condensation of her glass, an old instinct screaming at her to run after you. To stop you. But she stayed rooted to the barstool, letting the moment slip through her fingers like so many others before it.

Maybe she deserved that.

No, she definitely deserved that.

But that didn’t mean she was done. Not this time.

A week passed. Then two.

Paige told herself she wouldn’t look for you, wouldn’t make this harder than it needed to be. But then she saw you again—by chance or by fate, she wasn’t sure.

The coffee shop was tucked in a quiet corner of the city, one she rarely went to, but there you were.

Sitting by the window, scrolling through your phone, completely unaware that her world had just tilted on its axis again.

Paige took a slow breath, adjusting the cap on her head, as if that would somehow make her presence less jarring. She told herself to leave, that she had no reason to be here. But her feet moved before she could stop them.

And then she was standing in front of you.

You looked up, blinking in surprise before your expression hardened.

“Seriously?”

She had the audacity to smile. Just a little. “Hey.”

You exhaled sharply, setting your phone down. “What are you doing here?”

She hesitated, because she could lie—say she was just grabbing coffee, pretend this was another coincidence. But she was done lying, done pretending.

So she pulled out the chair across from you and sat down, ignoring the way your brows shot up in disbelief.

“I wanted to see you.”

Your jaw tightened. “Paige—”

“Look, I know you don’t owe me anything. I know I left and that I never gave you a real explanation. And I know that seeing me again is probably the last thing you want.”

You stayed silent, watching her carefully. Paige took that as a sign to keep going.

“But I just—I just need to talk to you. Not about the past. Just—just let me sit here for a minute.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You discarded me, Paige. And now you just want to sit and talk?”

The words stung, sharp and direct, but she didn’t flinch. She nodded instead, fingers clenching against her thigh. “Yeah. I do.”

You studied her for a long moment, something flickering in your expression.

Then, with an exasperated sigh, you leaned back. “Fine. But I’m not making this easy for you.”

Paige let out a quiet breath. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

The conversation started awkward, filled with stilted small talk and long pauses. But Paige didn’t mind. She wasn’t here for easy. She was here for you.

And if she had to work for it, she would.

She’d spent years running from what she wanted.

Now, she was ready to chase it.

Paige had always been good at winning.

On the court, she knew how to read plays, how to adjust, how to push through obstacles until she got what she wanted.

But you weren’t a game. You weren’t something she could just strategize her way back into.

And that terrified her more than anything.

A week after your reluctant coffee shop conversation, Paige saw you again.

This time, it wasn’t by accident.

She knew where to find you—your favorite bookstore, a quiet place tucked away from the chaos of the city.

She told herself she wouldn’t approach you, that she’d just catch a glimpse, maybe remind herself that you were still here, still real. But when she spotted you in one of the aisles, she couldn’t stop herself.

“You really like this place, huh?”

You turned, startled at first, then visibly annoyed when you realized who it was.

“Paige.”

She raised her hands in mock surrender. “Not here to bother you. Just… thought I’d check out some books.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Since when do you read?”

Paige smirked. “Since now.”

You exhaled, clearly debating whether to engage or ignore her. Eventually, you turned back to the shelf, tracing the spines with absent fingers.

Paige stayed a few feet away, not pushing, not forcing conversation. Just existing in your space, letting you get used to her being there.

And maybe—just maybe—hoping you’d let her stay.

Over the next few weeks, she found ways to slip into your life, never demanding too much, never making it obvious.

A casual nod when she saw you at a café. A brief conversation in passing. A small joke here, a quiet comment there.

She didn’t expect you to trust her again overnight. She wasn’t that naive.

But she wanted you to see she wasn’t going anywhere this time.

She wanted you to know she was serious.

Paige exhaled, gripping the strap of her gym bag as she stood outside the arena.

She had invited you to the game tonight.

You hadn’t said yes. But you hadn’t said no either.

And when she looked up, scanning the crowd filtering through the entrance, she saw you.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

You weren’t alone—your friends flanked you, keeping the atmosphere light, but Paige could see the tension in your posture. Like you weren’t sure why you had come.

But you were here.

That was enough.

For now.

Paige played like she had something to prove.

Not to the crowd. Not to the coaches.

To you.

Every shot, every pass, every moment on the court was a silent message—Look at me. See what I can be.

And when the final buzzer sounded, when the game was won and the cheers rang loud, her eyes searched for you again.

You were still there.

Watching.

After the game, she found you by the exit, waiting.

She approached carefully, wiping the sweat from her forehead, heart pounding louder than it had on the court.

“You stayed.”

You shrugged, arms crossed. “You played well.”

Paige took a slow breath. “Thanks.”

A beat of silence stretched between you, the years of distance still palpable.

Then, softly—“Why now, Paige?”

Her throat tightened.

Because I already gave you your normal life. Now it’s my turn to have a life with you.

But she didn’t say that. Not yet.

Instead, she let a small smile tug at her lips. “Because I’m done running.”

And for the first time, you didn’t look away.

Paige had never been good at waiting.

But she had to be patient now.

The next morning, she found herself lingering by her phone, resisting the urge to text you. It had taken everything in her to tell you she was done running, but words meant nothing without action. And she wasn’t about to mess this up again by moving too fast.

Instead, she let things happen naturally.

Days passed, and Paige made sure to be present without pushing too hard. Little moments—liking your posts when she never used to, casually showing up at places she knew you’d be. Each interaction was subtle, an unspoken invitation.

She had spent so many years keeping her distance that she had to relearn how to be in your orbit.

And she knew you noticed.

One evening, she saw her chance.

A mutual friend’s birthday dinner. You were there, seated with a few others, and Paige made a deliberate choice to sit across from you.

Not next to you. That would be too much.

Just close enough that you couldn’t ignore her.

She watched the way you stiffened slightly when she greeted you, then relaxed into neutrality. That was progress.

The night went on, and as conversations swirled around the table, Paige kept her focus split—engaging with the others but never letting you fade into the background.

Then came the moment that caught her off guard.

Someone cracked a joke about past relationships, and the table erupted into laughter. But Paige felt her pulse spike when your gaze flickered—just briefly—to her.

It was gone in an instant, but she caught it.

You weren’t unaffected by her presence.

And she held onto that.

After dinner, she found you outside, waiting for your ride.

Paige hesitated, then stepped closer, standing beside you in silence. The cool air was thick with unspoken things.

Finally, she murmured, “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

You gave a small shrug. “I almost didn’t come.”

Paige’s chest tightened. “But you did.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“Why are you suddenly around again, Paige?”

She exhaled slowly, choosing her words carefully. “I told you. I’m done running.”

You looked away, as if weighing her words. Paige could tell you weren’t convinced yet. And that was fair. She had spent years pushing you away.

But she had time now.

She was going to prove it.

You scoffed, exhaling sharply. “That doesn’t mean anything, Paige. Not after everything.”

Her throat tightened. “Then tell me how to make it mean something.”

Your arms crossed over your chest, frustration bubbling over. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t just get to decide when you want to be here. You disappeared, Paige. You left me with nothing. No explanation, no closure—just gone.”

She flinched. She deserved that. Every word.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “I thought—”

“You thought what?” you snapped. “That I couldn’t handle your world? That I wasn’t enough?”

She ran a hand down her face, the weight of her silence pressing between you. Then, finally—

“Because you said you wanted a normal life.”

Your breath hitched.

Paige looked at you then, really looked at you, and her expression was raw. “You said you wanted normal, and I knew I could never give that to you. So I let you have it.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and heavy.

Then, your laugh came—sharp, disbelieving. “You let me have it? Are you kidding me? You never even gave me a choice, Paige.”

Her jaw clenched, guilt washing over her. “I know. I was scared. I convinced myself I was doing what was best for you. But it wasn’t my decision to make.”

You shook your head, years of frustration unraveling in real time. “Damn right, it wasn’t.”

Paige exhaled shakily. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance. But if you’ll let me, I want to prove that I’m not going anywhere this time.”

Your lips parted, but no words came. Because for the first time, the truth was laid bare between you.

And now, the choice was finally yours.

Paige didn’t wait for your answer that night.

Because this time, she wasn’t just asking.

She was proving.

The shift was subtle at first. But undeniable.

Paige started showing up. Not just at events or places where she could conveniently cross paths with you, but in ways that made it impossible to ignore her presence.

A text—simple, direct: I know I don’t deserve it, but can we talk?

A coffee order at your desk one morning—your exact order, no note, just an unspoken understanding.

A glance from across the room that held more weight than a thousand words.

She was making it clear—she was done running.

But were you ready to stop running too?

It all came to a head one night when you found yourself at a restaurant with mutual friends. You weren’t expecting her to be there.

But she was.

And she wasn’t alone.

Paige sat with her teammates, but her attention never wavered from you. Even as conversations swirled around the table, she only seemed aware of one thing—where you were, who you were talking to, how close someone else was standing.

Then, as if drawn by an invisible pull, she excused herself. And when you stepped outside for air, she followed.

“You still don’t believe me, do you?” she asked, voice steady but soft.

You sighed, leaning against the railing. “Paige, I don’t know what to believe.”

She hesitated, then took a step closer. “Then let me say it again. I was wrong. I was wrong to decide for you. I was wrong to leave. And I was wrong to think I could be happy without you.”

Your chest tightened. “You don’t get to say that now. You made your choice.”

Her jaw clenched. “And I’ve regretted it every single day since.”

Silence stretched, thick with years of unsaid things.

Then, softer this time—“You wanted a normal life. I wanted to give that to you.”

You turned to face her fully. “And what if I wanted you more?”

Her breath caught.

For the first time, she looked shaken. Vulnerable. “Then let me fix it.”

You let out a slow exhale. “How?”

She didn’t hesitate. “By showing you that my world can be yours, too. That this—us—can work.”

A beat. Then another.

And then, finally—

“Let me try.”

And for the first time in years, maybe—just maybe—you considered letting her.

Paige didn’t expect an answer that night.

The weight of her confession still hung in the air, and she knew you needed time. She had stolen your choice once—she wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

But she wasn’t done fighting for you. Not this time.

She started showing up even more. Not just at the places she knew you would be, but in the ways that mattered.

She learned your schedule, not to intrude but to be available. If you needed space, she gave it. If you wanted presence, she provided it.

Little by little, she wove herself back into your life.

When you had a late-night work event, she sent an Uber to make sure you got home safely. When you had a rough day, she texted without expecting a reply: Just so you know, I’m here.

And when you finally started responding—small things at first, short answers, a dry remark here and there—she took it as progress.

Because you weren’t ignoring her anymore.

The night everything changed, she found you alone on the balcony at a mutual friend’s gathering.

“You hate crowds,” she noted, stepping beside you.

You scoffed. “Then why are you here?”

She hesitated, then answered honestly. “Because you are.”

A beat of silence. Then, you sighed, rubbing your temples. “Paige, this… it’s exhausting. I don’t know what you want from me.”

She turned to you, eyes steady. “I want you. I always have.”

You let out a breath, shaking your head. “You don’t get to say that now. You left me.”

“I know.” Her voice wavered, but she didn’t look away. “And I hate myself for it. But I can’t change the past. All I can do is ask if there’s still a future for us.”

You stared at her, torn between frustration and something deeper, something that never really left.

Paige swallowed hard. “You said you wanted a normal life. I let you have it. But the truth is… I never wanted normal. I wanted you. And if you’ll let me, I want to give you a life where you don’t have to choose between love and normalcy.”

You exhaled sharply, emotions swirling. “And if I say no?”

Paige’s jaw tightened, but she nodded. “Then I’ll respect it. But I had to try.”

Your fingers curled around the balcony railing. The city stretched before you, endless and full of possibilities.

Finally, you looked at her, searching her face. “Then prove it.”

A slow smile tugged at her lips. “I will.”

And for the first time in years, it felt like something real was beginning again.

The weight of Paige’s confession lingered between you, heavy and unshakable.

You had spent years wondering why she left, why she walked away without a word. And now that you knew the truth, it didn’t make things easier. If anything, it made them harder.

Because she thought she was protecting you. And in doing so, she shattered you.

She didn’t push anymore after that night.

Instead, she let her actions speak.

She showed up. Consistently. Not just when it was easy or convenient. Not just in the spaces where it was expected.

She found ways to be in your world, the one she once thought she had to let you have on your own.

When you had a late night at work, she sent food to your office. When she had a game in your city, she made sure you had the option to come—never asking, just leaving tickets in case. When she was free, she met you where you were instead of expecting you to follow her pace.

And slowly, the walls you built started to crack.

The final step was hers to take.

She invited you to a game—one that mattered. A championship. A moment where the world would be watching her.

She didn’t ask for anything more than your presence.

So you went.

And after the game, when the confetti settled and the cameras pulled back, she found you waiting in the hallway outside the locker room.

Her hair was damp, her jersey still clinging to her. But none of it mattered. Not the victory, not the celebration.

Only you.

“Come with me,” she said, breathless and certain.

You hesitated. “Paige—”

“I already gave you up once. I’m not making that mistake again.” She exhaled, stepping closer. “You got to live your normal life. Now let me have my turn. Let me have you.”

The words struck something deep inside you.

She wasn’t asking you to give up anything. She was asking you to choose.

For the first time, the decision wasn’t made for you.

And this time, you knew your answer.

The mornings were your favorite.

Not because they were peaceful—Paige was anything but quiet.

She hummed while making coffee, danced around the kitchen in nothing but a hoodie and socks, occasionally bumping into you just to steal a kiss.

“You’re in my way,” you muttered as you tried to grab a mug.

She grinned, blocking you with her body. “No, I think you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t move away.

Balancing your worlds wasn’t easy, but it was never about easy. It was about effort. About making it work.

Some nights, you were in her world—attending games, sitting courtside, holding her hand in moments she once thought she had to face alone. Other nights, she was in yours—picking up takeout after your long workday, helping fold laundry, blending seamlessly into the life you once thought you had to protect from her.

“You don’t have to do all this,” you had told her once, watching as she stacked plates after dinner.

She gave you a look, one that said you should know better by now. “I want to.”

That was the difference. Before, she thought she had to choose. Now, she refused to.

Later, she lay on the couch with her head in your lap, scrolling through her phone while you absentmindedly ran your fingers through her hair. It was easy now—touching, being close. No tension, no hesitation. Just you and her, like it was always meant to be.

“I have a game in Chicago next week,” she murmured, looking up at you. “Come with me?”

You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin. “Hmm… what’s in it for me?”

She sat up, wrapping her arms around your waist, her lips brushing against your ear. “Everything.”

And she meant it.

No more running. No more regrets. Just Paige, and the life you built together.

Finally, home.

taglist:@alilstressyandlotdepressy @iowahawkeyes22 @delusional-day-dreamer @unadulteratedcyclepaper @nicebellee @livelyblues @paige05bby @munchtotally @vicsstufff @bucketbueckers @avvwritesstufff @wheeniemyloove@sarahkaisley@bueckersverse@caffeine-pup@ellehoops@angelliicc@ilomiloblohshh@surferandskater5@marissahowardd@carlaaaisinthehousew@potatobearsworld@celestixldarling@extalstar@averagelobotomyenjoyer@magnificentwastelandarbiter@shartnugget26@maddybuckets@bucketbueckers@drewlilbabe@aaaa46090493 @bebitts @ayyeliensuperstarr @apbueckers @leafoster17 @loudhandsbageldream @evanpeterstoe @geico-insuranc @msvclarkk @tashiagalinda @yailtsv

[ryker-writes]

Hello 👋 Ryker!

Can you write more headcanon of Dating Idia and Malleus (Poly relationship) maybe how each of the family or friends react to their relationship.

Of course! It makes me very happy that people liked the poly headcanons so much and want to see more! And I’m happy to deliver!

Request rules and masterlist

First part

More general thoughts:

Idia and Malleus are quite the pair to be dating

Once the students around the school are able to confirm it’s true that you are, in fact, dating both of them, news spreads quickly

Malleus doesn’t care so much about the news, why shouldn’t people know you’re together?

Idia however, is very overwhelmed by it all

Regardless of how long you’ve been dating, he still sometimes has these moments of thinking “How did I get here? Did I upgrade my charisma stats without knowing? Was it the charisma stat that made them fall, or was it a different stat?”

And as someone who prefers to stay in the background and avoid the public eye, the fact that everyone at school knows you’re dating him and Malleus causes a lot of panic

We’re talking like barely leave his room even just into Ignihyde kinda panic

It takes a while for him to calm down, and he gets spooked when people bring it up thinking they’re comparing him to Malleus

He might subtly be inviting you to his room more often because he needs the support without saying he needs he support

Speaking of support, let’s talk about how they want support/show support

Now these two are more reserved people, and tend to keep a lot of their thoughts inside and tend to stray away from large crowds. That being said, they simply enjoy your presence being in the same area as them, double the effect if both you and the other are there

Malleus enjoys having you and Idia there, and Idia enjoys having you and Malleus there (regardless of how out of place Malleus looks in his room)

Idia prefers doing his own thing while you guys do your own thing in the same area, while Malleus prefers doing activities together

But oh boy, these two feel most supported if you listen to them

I hope you’re a good listener, because wow these two can go on for hours if you let them

Idia and Malleus both love when people they care about get interested in the things they love, and get even more excited when they ask questions

They aren’t too physically affectionate people though

Idia gets nervous and panics at small unexpected touches, and Malleus keeps touches light and respectful

Most of the times it’s hand holding, a hand on your lower back as you walk, and maybe a hug if they’re feeling it

They coordinate surprisingly well when it comes to special events like your birthday, holidays, or school festivals

Instead of spending time one on one with them, they both are there for you during events

Idia likes it because people tend to steer clear of Malleus and there's guards keeping things out of his way, so Idia doesn't have to worry as much about dealing with people (the only unfortunate part is dealing with Sebek)

You basically get the royal treatment just by being with them, and that's the way they believe it's supposed to be

They are very mindful of each other during these events too. Malleus is careful about going into largely populated areas, and Idia tries to make sure Malleus is included in activities (in Idia's awkward way)

The dynamic being in a relationship with both of them works pretty well!

And then there's the friends/family

Lilia:

Lilia is actually very happy about this

Briar Valley culture is a bit...reserved and old fashioned, but Lilia is a man who's open to seeing and experiencing new things, so he's happy to see Malleus is too!

Having one partner is great, but two? He's very happy for Malleus

He does worry about how things will work out in the future with Malleus being royalty and having two partners, but that's an issue for later

He's pretty happy it's you and Idia of all people too!

Lilia loves video games, so he helps Malleus learn about them so he can communicate and bond better with Idia, and he's happy because then Malleus can play with him too

He feels like a proud dad watching Malleus with you and Idia

Silver:

Silver hasn't interacted with Idia much, so he can't speak on Idia's character, but he knows you! And he thinks you're good for Malleus, so he has no objections

As long as Malleus is happy, he really doesn't mind however Malleus chooses to have a relationship

He's pretty accepting of almost anything, so he doesn't even question the three of you dating or anything

He does try to get to know Idia more because of this though! Since Silver is the most calm among Malleus' guards, it actually goes pretty well and him and Idia communicate well

Sebek:

What do you expect, really? Of course Sebek is freaking out

His Liege has TWO partners?! What?!

Don't get him wrong, he has nothing against people having multiple partners, to each their own

But this is Malleus! The future ruler of Briar Valley! Sebek is going crazy that Malleus even has one partner and is of course judging them heavily to see if they're good enough for Malleus, but now there's two to judge!

Yeah, Idia avoids Sebek as much as possible

Sebek really doesn't want to question Malleus and his decisions, but he doesn't see the appeal of Idia

Malleus is quick to shut down Sebek's judgement and criticisms once he's aware of them, and Sebek will feel terrible

Ortho:

He's ecstatic!

Ortho has been trying for so long to get Idia out more and among more people, and you and Malleus help him a lot with that and he can tell you both make Idia really happy!

He's very proud of Idia and has no issues with you or Malleus

Sometimes he worries about Idia comparing himself to Malleus, but he's seen you and Malleus reassure him before, and how deeply the two of you care for Idia

Ortho feels like he doesn't have to worry as much about Idia since he has the two of you with him

He knows in his heart that the three of you will last a very long time

[faislittlewhiteraven]

Had another ISaT AU dream

This one was much less atmospheric and cool than my Tower of Dormont AU one but for anyone out there looking for fic ideas: Modern day 'urban fantasy AU' with the classic 'all the magic types are hidden' masquerade shenanigans going on but well the setup is: Isabeau, neighbourhood friendly vampire, trying to be as ethical as he can with his blood consumption, wanders areas like the outside of night clubs and the park late at night totally just 'out for a late night jog' with emergency fruit snacks and juice boxes on hand-

meets Siffrin, an exhausted, lonely, 'working far too many hours to barely break even on their rent' human on the way back from his 6 to 3am shift attempting to stargaze in the middle of the park, and the two get SO into talking Isa kinda forgets to even bite the little fella (oops!) before offering them a juice box. Cue Sif and Isa both deciding for '100% totally logical reasons' to keep frequenting the park, Isa having his first real 'help Mira, Ma'dam I'm biting someone I know on the regular, and I'm not sure if I LIKE-like them or if this just, idk, stupid vampire instincts going on' crisis combined with some secondary 'also I'm really worried about their living situation and maybe I could invite them to stay with me, introduce you all to them cuz they don't really seem to have any friends, etc' stuff, Sif slowly gets to meet everyone in 'the supernatural support group/family' (aka Mira, Odile, Bonnie and Nille), Isa and Sif's relationship progressing firmly into romantic territory with Isa stressing about how to explain the whole 'vampire' thing and how to apologise about all the hypnotising and get across that the only thing he's ever used it for was Sif's blood only (which btw is very tasty and sweet and also lets him daywalk sometimes which usually only happens when it's freely given, so Sif should probably not let any other vamp know about that) and- And-!

Annnnd it turns out that actually, Siffrin has known Isa was a vampire this entire time and that Isa's hypnosis never worked on them: Sif just accepted that getting bitten by the wonderful funny buff Isa-vamp was a small price to pay for free meals and good conversation on the regular, Isa's occasion 'red eye' thing was just a attractive tell for when he was getting hungry and as a 'Null'(1) -aka one of the Universe's designated monster killers who's constantly having to butcher and then hide the bodies of all the monsters that keep trying to pull off kills or worse right in front of them (when Sif's not being targeted himself. Late night solo shifts at the 7/11 / gas station are the worst)- this frankly has been the nicest, least stressful string of monster encounters they've had in a long time and they're really enjoying the reprieve.

TLDR: Isabeau is a vampire in the modern day who's hyper freaked out about confessing his (and his friends') monster status to his totally normal overworked human 'maybe partner' Sif, who actually knew Isa was a vamp the whole time, is actually THE primary monster hunter of the area, and is simply really happy that Isa and the other monsters he keeps introducing them to are actually good company as opposed to usual murderous eldritch horrors they usually run into. (1) My dream gave me a surprising amount of worldbuilding here (thank you dream Odile for trying to sus Sif out) but Nulls are sort of something akin to a Slayer in Buffy - Chosen ones selected by The Universe to slay evil. Nulls specifically 'ping' as 100% normal human to pretty much all supernatural senses (hence why they're called Nulls) but they're just flat out immune to mind manipulation and perception filters, they heal back from horrific levels of injury relatively quickly (though it's not quite at 'abusable in combat' levels), they instinctively know exactly how to hurt and kill any foe they deem in need of killing, and they tend to have major 'kill them all' issues towards most supernatural types since they often become Nulls as a result of their family's getting murdered or nearly being erased from existence by some sort of cosmic horror etc... Resulting in them being officially 'the ones monsters tell horror stories of'. Incidentally, one of the 'tells' of a Null is that they tend to be especially 'alluring' in various ways to most kinds of 'human hunting' monsters: Their blood, flesh, emotions etc all 'smell' and 'taste' especially delicious (and may grant 'special' properties such as giving Vampires sun immunity), they tend to work odd hours or 'do at one's own pace' jobs (aka being murder monster catnip tends to result in a lot of unscheduled and inexplainable emergences), and they tend to be perpetually exhausted (due to having to be near constantly hyper alert in case of Yet Another Monster after them, and all the monster slaying itself).

As for other stuff:

I vaguely picture Mira and the other Dormont Housemaidens as Angels for the Change God (think like bees to a hive - collecting the 'byproducts' of fresh hope and change in humans to make into food), Odile as some kind of primordial Eldritch Thing who's always lent towards benevolent observation of humanity (also one of the few supernaturals to ever have met more than one Null before and lived to tell about it. Probably the only supernatual being in setting who's likely to treat them as highly dangerous people first, murderous killers second), and Bonnie and Nille as Were Beasts of some kind (plz picture Sif being charmed over by Bonnie in an instant, being enthralled by their big gush/bragging about the 'once a month family camping trips' where they and Nille go to the countryside to hunt wild boar or deer which then Bonnie cooks up real nice for everyone except Za because he's a weenie who can't handle any good seasonings like garlic' and immediately offering to save Frin the best cut next time since it probably wouldn't be safe to bring him on the trip with them).

Also Isa totally works as a 'night only' beat cop or park ranger or something (gets away with just working the later hours since 'sun allergy' is accepted as a reasonably common disability in a human society full of secret monster folks trying to blend in) though he IS currently undertaking an online apprenticeship with a well known fashion designer who's been around forever.

Sif's Null awakening probably involved a 'history eating' eldritch horror (so um. Yep, sorry Sif, you still have memory loss, no ID and probably no education past middle school level) and The King's also a Null but of the 'genuinely murderous and terrible' kind - specifically in my dream, Sif's awakening involved killing The King (and mercy killing a whole bunch of innocent monsters The King was keeping as 'living trophies' or something because Sif had no idea how to free them from their various fate-worse-than-deaths otherwise) but like. I'm not writing this so do as you wish~ I do very much like the visual of Sif's 'Null' instincts including other Null who've 'gone wrong' though and hope that gets included. Makes for a nice 'and then Isa and the other friendly monsters had to process that cute, sweet Siffrin who's so gentle with Bonbon, stepped in to help Mira and Nille with babysitting near instantly, gets teased by Odile and throws everything into making Isa laugh and swoon, is in fact the rumored serial killer of serial killers who once dealt with a guy that had a rep akin to 'He Who Must Not Be Named' among the monster community, when he was around 14 years old and armed with a pencil sharpner.

Oh and before I forget again: Sif has absolutely zero knowledge of supernaturals other than 1) they exist, 2) most other people don't know they exist, and 3) Siffrin is supernatural catnip who's really really good at murdering things before they can murder him or other people. Also they do not get paid enough for this, monsters tend to carry less money on them than one might think, and the police start asking very awkward questions if you become known as 'that one guy who keeps finding and selling stuff suspected to belong to missing persons at the nearby pawn shop'.

Only reason Sif didn't start their 'three warnings before murder' thing with Isa is that they were just that damn tired when they met him that they didn't pick up on his vampy vibes until his teeth were in their neck, they didn't have the energy to 'bother' fighting him off (they were firmly at the 'this might as well happen, why not die at the teeth of someone who was at least nice about it' point) and well. Cue dull, confused happy surprise (much akin to someone just coming off a vamp's hypnosis) when Isa stopped them from tipping over, apologised for 'keeping them out so late they were fainting from low blood sugar' and gave them half a dozen snacks before offering to walk them home.

So yeah. There's another AU out for adoption if anyone wants in (do feel free to ask for help if you want more world building or whatever) and off I go back to typing away at my endless amount of ISaT Selkie AU notes instead~ XD

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Dear SexEd Witch, I was complaining about my dating life to my friends (I'm stuck in a cycle where I get on dating apps, have a few first dates and meh one night stands, don't feel a connection to anyone, cancel the app, rinse and repeat six months later) and they actually all suggested I suck it up, pick someone who looks okay and try to stick with it for a month so at least I get relationship experience (I have had two relationships in my mid twenties and then never again). That sounds insane to me, but they all insist that's how dating works. Am I too neurodivergent for this or is truly how dating works. Pretending to be into someone for month sounds exhausting to me but apparently it's what I should to to learn about myself and what I want in a relationship. Thanks,

hey man (gender neutral), you're asking the wrong guy how dating works. I don't do it, I have not done it, and I don't want to do it. I have exactly zero romantic needs in my life.

I do agree that what you're describing sounds deeply unappealing (which is why I don't do it). while I don't think it could hurt to at least try meeting up with people who seem like they could be decent friend material and see what happens (some people suck via text and make a much better impression in person, and that's #valid), I'm also generally in favor of avoiding shit that sucks and isn't fun when it's entirely optional. and oh, baby, is meeting up with randos from the apps an optional activity! and tough it out for a MONTH? christ. if that works for some people then I love that for them, truly, but if it sounds dreadful to you, why bother?

none of which actually addresses the actual issue, which is that you're looking to find someone you actually feel a connection with. on this front I literally always always always recommend the same thing: get off the damn apps and go to places where people actually hang out and do things other than try to market themselves to potential partners. classes, clubs, conventions, sporting events, workshops, gyms - fuck it, go to an actual deliberate mixer for hot singles in your area. whatever, take your pick. just see what's happening in your local area, decide what sounds fun and interesting, and talk to people there. make new friends. if there's no one dateable in your pool already, the only solution is to expand your pool with more people you actually like being around, and starting somewhere that people have at least some tangential shared interests is a good bet.

[gothamite-rambler]

Mirage, you're a dead woman!

Dick: Star, I'm so sorry. I didn’t know… I thought she was you, and then we… can you ever forgive me?

Kori tilted her head, studying her boyfriend's expression. Dick’s body language wasn’t defensive or deceitful; it radiated shock, slight terror, and guilt. Except he wasn’t guilty of anything. After a few seconds, Kori closed her eyes and smiled sweetly.

Kori: I was never mad. From how you're reacting, it seems you’re more upset. It’s okay—especially since what this Mirage woman did was not just wrong, but illegal. I’m going to handle it.

Calmly, Kori left the room, with Dick and the other titans trailing behind her.

Dick: Star, what are you doing?

Kori (removing her earrings with a calm determination): I'm going to have a conversation with Mirage about what sexual assault really is. And that impersonating someone else to sleep with their partner is a crime.

She tucked her earrings into her pocket and pulled her hair into a ponytail.

Donna: Do you need backup?

Kori: No. I can handle this on my own.

Garfield (Beast Boy) and Wally West walked down the halls as the group made their way to the holding room Mirage was at.

Garfield: Where are you guys headed?

Donna: Star is going to beat the shit out of Mirage for having sex with Nightwing, but he didn't know.

Wally: That's a crime. That was the context? That asshole!

Garfield (walking off to tell the others): Yeah pretty much... give 'em hell Starfire.

Kori: Oh I will.

Dick: You don't have to do this.

Kori: I want to though, because she took advantage of you. Am I upset that she had sex with you? Yes, but that's not your fault.

Dick: Aren't you mad that I technically cheated on you?

Kori: Cheating is partaking in sexual or emotional relationship acts with someone else while in a relationship. This isn't that and the only one in the wrong is Mirage. I understand you not wanting me to murder the vermin Tarantula, but here I will only make her wish I killed her.

Donna (rolling up her sleeves, walking off): And I’ll deal with Pantha calling you a slut while Kori “talks” to Mirage.

Kori: Sounds like a perfect plan. Dickie bear, having learned about your history, I will continue to protect you. We could be friends, and I'd still do so. If you don’t want me confronting Mirage, though, we can leave. You deserve to choose, because you’re the victim in this.

Dick's eyes widened in surprised at this being taken seriously as it should be.

Wally: I was eavesdropping because I'm nosy, and I say let Kori punch her in the nose at least.

Dick closed his eyes, releasing a relieved sigh. When he opened them, he took Kori’s hand.

Dick: Kori, don’t, like, murder her, okay? I can’t afford to bail you out of jail, and… murder's wrong.

Kori: What’s that thing you and Batman say? Letting them live after you’ve savagely beaten them is punishment enough. If you’ll excuse me…

Kori turned towards the doorway where Mirage was being held and forcefully kicked the door in. She entered with a determined smile. Mirage, spotting Kori, immediately assumed a fighting stance.

Kori (closing the door behind her): We’re going to have a little thirty-minute girl talk. Chat amongst yourselves.

With the door sealed, the room filled with sounds of screams (Mirage's), thrashing, and alien curses. Most the Titans stood by listening into the fighting while Dick stood a few feet away hiding smile by sucking in his lips.

[fangel]

OH MY GOSHHH ♡-໒₍: o̴̶̷᷄ ̫ o̴̶̷᷅ก��₎১՞ i can’t believe i was able to give you some inspiration that’s so crazy to me and im soooo happy you were able to overcome the fear of writing unholy nasty content because ya know what, hell yeah !! embrace the weird freak nasty pervert sht. i love you ㅠㅠ thank god you took this fic out of the drafts !!! my rambles i made while reading are below.. ♡

first part in and i was already HOOKED. i’m (very obviously) a sucker for religious fics so of course i was foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog when i saw this notif. but it’s the way you write their devotion so beautifully detailed that i was like ‘oh yeah, im in for a ride.’

AND mc so quick to be like …maybe thinking of sin isn’t so bad just from seeing jake WHILE PRAYING IN CHURCH FOR HIMMM 😭😭 #real adore her already

something about jake is so perfect for religious au’s and idk how to describe it but YOU get it. i know you do.. i love u for that hehe

I LIVE AND LOVE for mc trying to find understanding of her feelings :( poor baby trying to navigate human emotions while being swallowed by quilt. the other girls talking about jake with “a quiet admiration, soft and innocent” — meanwhile mc’s is as you described “heavier” SET HER FREE !!!!! — “why did yours feel like something that sat in your chest, something that pressed against your ribs with every prayer, something that burned.”

⤷ YOURE COOKING, and it’s still only the beginning askdlakzpa

(insert every quote of dialogue from the scene where the nun lectures purity, masturbation, and sexual nature because every single line was hard as fuck oh my god) ((..kiss me pls i beg of you i love your brain…))

the apple…. the snake…… the garden of eden reference….. the first sin…. !!!! I WILL SUCCUMB EVERY TIME !!!!

who tf got my girl karina expelled 😒 a girl can’t have hobbies and be hot ? she can’t get some ?? fuck it i would’ve joined them

“eve took the apple. she chose knowledge, chose to know desire, hunger, craving. and for that she was cast out. but maybe that was never a punishment. maybe it was freedom.” SPEAK YOUR (THE) TRUTH KARINA 🔥🔥🔥 okay but seriously love this sequence of mc finding someone who indulges on what she wants to, and being told that it’s not something to regret. mc needed that — so much of religious lessons / morals (my brain isn’t working to find the right words) are based on fear !!! rights and wrongs, the consequences of going against god’s word or values, etc. putting fear into people to live a certain way. i love how you touched on that

her touching herself THERE, IN THE PLACE OF WORSHIP… ?! okay me too #twin #realfreaksonly

THE FUCKING TENSION BETWEEN MC AND JAKE DURING THE CONFESSION SCENE WHATTHEHELLL AHHHHHHHHHHHH i would’ve bent over that pew so fast 😭

the scene of jake begging mc to show him how she touched herself….. and then she just gets down to it and whips his dick out anzjakzak “i’m going to pray for forgiveness” LMAO I LOVE U LIL PERV CHURCH GIRL - the entire thing was so hot.. i am the real pervert 😞

once they started they didn’t stop LMFAO already diving into talking about kinks too !!! this is what i’m here for !!!!! i just know his nose would drive me insane too.. mc is just getting more and more real

why do i feel guilt ?!? “because we’ve been taught to fear Him more than we’ve been taught to trust His love.” OHMYGUCKING GOD JUST SHOOT ME — continues to spew more beautiful dialogue (ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू) while just lovin and touchin on each other oh wow where is my completely devote partner to worship and love me regardless of what anything else says

THEY ARE IN LOVVVEREEE 🤍🤍🤍🤍 all is right in the world

okay but honestly, this was such an amazing read (and my first jake fic i’ve read, so this is extra special to me hehe) the way you captured the characters emotions was so well done. i love all the religious references as a former catholic girl myself so of course i ate this up. all the analogies and metaphors were so perfect. you also write dialogue really well. there were so many more quotes i could’ve included because so much of it stood out to me ㅠㅠ truly phenomenal !! your characters felt real and it was so easy to connect with them too. from the imagery and details to the overall themes of guilt and shame are just so good, so yummy. really enjoyed jake’s pov too omg ily so bad also the smut was hot asf !!! TRUST, i will be reading more of your works bc that freaky nasty poly jayke fic has been calling my name for weeks now

i haven’t read a fic in over a month maybe longer but this tag really brought me right out of my reading slump. i will tackle your other works tomorrow ♥️ thank you so much for writing this, you’re so talented and amazing and beautiful and lovely i adore you

the fall of a man — sjy

SYNOPSIS: You were taught that virtue was a woman’s greatest strength, that temptation was a test of will, that desire was the serpent’s whisper leading you astray. But when temptation comes in the form of Sim Jaeyun—holy, untouchable, the very image of devotion—your faith begins to waver.

content tags: slow burn, plot with little bit of porn, mutual pining, both of them are religious and virgins, set in catholic university that is lead by nuns, they don't have sex ed!! adam and eve references, religious guilt, reader crushing and thirsting over jake in religious way that's been written for almost 5k words, some of the scenes are heavily inspired by 'guilty as sin' by ts.

warning: heavy sacrilegious content, karina kind of represent the serpent in reader's pov, blasphemy, explicit content (smut): reader masturbate in the chapel, virgins trying to fuck, virginity loss (obv), blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex (condom don't exist), jake call out god's name a lot of times. wc: 16.7k

note: my darling, @fangel really inspired me and make me overcome my fear in writing the most unholiest thing in the world, i'm inlove with you, bae and you really changed my world with your fics <3 i wrote this fic for armin arlert way back 2023 but never had the guts to publish it, but hey u give me a reason to continue this fic. and to my readers out there, i hope you enjoy reading this fic, i love writing jake's pov here :)

Ever since you were a child, you followed everything your parents told you. Raised in a devoutly religious household, your days revolved around faith—joining church activities, attending every Sunday mass without fail, even flying to Puerto Rico with your family to take part in Misa de Aguinaldo.

Religion wasn't just a part of your life; it was your life.

You loved God. You loved listening to preachers, absorbing their words like scripture carved into your soul. You loved spreading the message of Jesus Christ, the warmth of faith filling you every time you shared His name.

You prayed constantly—palms pressed together, head bowed, whispering words of gratitude for every blessing, of repentance for every misstep. You prayed for strength, for purity, for the will to resist temptation.

And yet—temptation had a name.

And his name is Sim Jaeyun.

You remember the first time you saw him walking through the gates of the Catholic university you both attended.

Jake Sim was the very embodiment of devotion, of unwavering faith. He carried himself with an air of holiness, always with a rosary wrapped around his fingers or a Bible tucked beneath his arm. He spoke with conviction, every word laced with the kind of certainty only true believers possessed. And yet, to you, he was something else entirely.

The way he moved, the way his voice echoed through the chapel—it was hypnotic. Your prayers would falter on your tongue whenever he stood at the altar, leading hymns with a voice so steady, so sure.

You had watched him, your eyes tracing the curve of his lips as he spoke, the way his lashes fluttered when he blinked. You had memorized the way candlelight danced across his skin, the way the veins in his hands shifted when he clasped them in prayer.

The boy who knelt before the cross with his eyes closed in deep, persistent faithfulness.

The boy who touched the rosary beads with such reverence, his fingers gliding over each one as if they held the weight of his salvation.

But all you could think about was how those same fingers would feel tracing the lines of your body, how they would press into your skin—not in prayer, but in something far more sinful.

How his lips would taste if they weren't murmuring scripture, if instead, they whispered your name in the dark.

How his faith would crumble if he ever looked at you the way you wanted him to.

And as you sat in the pews, hands clasped, head bowed, you prayed—not for strength, not for purity, but for him.

You shouldn't think about him that way. You shouldn't let your mind wander, not here, not in the house of God.

You knew the weight of sin, the warnings etched into you since childhood. Your family had made it clear—masturbation, desire, sex before marriage—each was a path to damnation. To act on them was to betray God.

Do not lay a hand on any boy. Do not think of flesh, of pleasure, of sin. Do not touch your body with thoughts of another.

But if you had never touched him, never let your hands stray to your own skin —if all you had were thoughts, then how could you already feel guilty as sin?

The golden light of the late afternoon filtered through the stained-glass windows of the university chapel, casting soft hues of red, blue, and gold onto the polished wooden pews. The air was still, filled only with the faint scent of old parchment and melting candle wax.

You sat near the front, fingers absentmindedly tracing the spine of your prayer book. The chapel was mostly empty, save for a few students lingering in quiet reflection. And him.

Sim Jaeyun stood near the altar, carefully arranging hymnals. Even in the simplicity of his tasks, there was a quiet devotion to him—an unshaken faith that made it impossible to look away.

You tried to focus on the words of the scripture open in front of you, but your thoughts were restless. It wasn't the first time you had stayed after midday prayers, and it wasn't the first time you had found yourself stealing glances at him.

A quiet sound of footsteps against the marble floor.

"You're here again."

You glanced up to find Jake standing at the edge. You nodded, offering a small smile. "I like the chapel in the afternoon. It's peaceful."

Jake hummed in agreement, sliding into the pew beside you, though he kept a respectful distance. "It's my favorite time, too," he admitted, clasping his hands together. "When the day is slowing down, but the world isn't quite asleep yet."

You studied him for a moment, watching as the sunlight touched his face, illuminating the softness in his features. "What do you pray for?" you asked.

Jake exhaled, his gaze fixed ahead. "For strength," he said. "To always follow the right path."

You nodded slowly, looking down at your hands.

"And you?" he asked.

You hesitated. You knew what you should say. Strength. Wisdom. Purity.

But instead, you murmured, "For understanding."

Jake turned to you, brow slightly furrowed. "Understanding?"

You swallowed. "There are... thoughts I don't always understand." You hesitated, fingers tightening around the pages of your prayer book. "And I ask for guidance. To know what is right."

For a moment, Jake was silent, then he offered a small, knowing smile. "God sees our hearts even when we struggle to see them ourselves." His voice was gentle and reassuring. "Sometimes, we don't need to have all the answers. We just need to trust Him to show us the way."

His words should have comforted you. But as you looked at him—at the boy who made your heart race in ways you couldn't explain—you weren't sure if the path you longed for was the one God had intended for you.

Sim Jaeyun barely even knew you. The two of you only shared a religion class, occasionally finding yourselves in the same prayer group. Your interactions were brief—just passing glances, a quiet exchange of smiles. Sometimes, after kneeling in prayer, he would hand you a sandwich and a bottle of water and you always accepted with a small nod of thanks, though the warmth in your chest lingered long after.

During every community outreach, you would catch glimpses of him—kneeling to pet stray dogs and cats, laughter spilling from his lips as children clung to his arms, their tiny hands gripping at his sleeves. He spoke to the elderly with a patience and gentleness that felt almost sacred, offering up his seat without hesitation, carrying their bags.

He was the kind of person people gravitated toward, the kind of person who made faith feel tangible—something living and breathing, rather than just words in a book.

You wondered if someone like him, someone pure as gold, ever sinned.

Sim Jaeyun was a name whispered often in the girls' residence hall. Every night, as curfew neared, you would hear them murmuring from their bunks.

"He'd make such a good husband." "Imagine him as a father—he'd be perfect." "Any girl would be lucky to have him."

A quiet admiration, soft and innocent. So why was yours so much heavier? So much more?

Why did yours feel like something that sat in your chest, something that pressed against your ribs with every prayer, something that burned?

"Your body is sacred."

The nun's voice rang through the classroom. She moved slowly between the rows of desks, the wooden stick in her hand tapping lightly against her palm with every step.

It was an all-girls class since she was teaching anatomy. But this wasn't just about the body. It was about purity.

She stopped near the front of the room, turning to face the class. Her gaze swept over each of you, as if she could see straight into your thoughts. "God has given you this body," she continued. "A temple. A gift. A vessel meant for holiness, not for sin."

You swallowed, shifting slightly in your seat.

"Temptation is everywhere," she said. "It creeps into your thoughts, into your hands, into the desires you do not speak of. But hear me, girls—"God is watching.""

The stick tapped against her palm again.

"Masturbation," she said, the word itself feeling heavy as it filled the silence, "is a sin against your own flesh. To lay a hand upon yourself in lust is to defile what was meant to be pure."

A hush settled over the room. Some girls looked down at their desks, others sat rigid, eyes wide, hands folded neatly in their laps as if to prove they had never done such a thing—never even thought about it.

You felt a heat crawl up the back of your neck.

"When you indulge in these acts," she continued, voice sharp with a warning, "your body burns—not with passion, not with pleasure, but with sin. A fire that does not cleanse, but corrupts."

She paused, her gaze sweeping the room again,

"And when you engage in sex outside of marriage, when you surrender yourself to the desires of the flesh, that fire does not leave you. It stays. It marks you. And on the day of judgment, when you stand before God, He will see it. He will know."

A shudder ran through you. You clenched your hands together, nails pressing into your palms.

Then, the nun's eyes landed on you.

"You understand, don't you?" she asked, though it wasn't really a question.

Your lips parted slightly, but no words came.

And just for a moment, you thought of him.

Sim Jaeyun.

Of the way his fingers brushed over rosary beads in prayer. Of the way his voice sounded when he spoke of faith, of devotion. Of how those hands, that voice, could ruin you.

And as the nun continued, warning of damnation, of the watchful eyes of God, you couldn't help but wonder.

If God was watching, did He already know what was in your heart? And worse—had He already condemned you for it?

"Yes, I understand," you said, though the words felt heavy on your tongue.

Guilt settled deep in your chest. Your palms were damp, fingers twitching slightly as you clasped them together.

You needed to repent.

You needed to pray until the thoughts left you, until the weight of sin lifted from your heart. Until the fire the nun spoke of no longer burned beneath your skin.

"Here, an apple for you."

A small hand reached toward yours, fingers curled around a tiny, imperfect apple. The child's eyes were bright with innocence, his smile wide as he offered it to you.

It was community outreach day in the mountains, where children ran barefoot over the uneven ground, laughter ringing through the crisp afternoon air. The scent of earth and firewood lingered, mingling with the distant voices of volunteers.

You knelt slightly, accepting the apple with a gentle smile. "Thank you," you said, your voice soft.

The boy beamed, pleased by your gratitude before running off to join the others.

You were about to take a bite of the apple when a sudden tap on your shoulder made you pause. Turning, you found your classmate standing behind you, her expression impatient.

"I need you to find Karina," she said, arms crossed. "She's missing again. And we need to leave by three."

You sighed, tucking the apple into your pocket. "Alright, I'll look for her."

With that, you made your way up the stone steps leading further into the hills, where the trees grew denser and the voices of the other volunteers faded into the rustling of leaves. The fresh mountain air brushed against your skin, carrying the scent of damp earth and woodsmoke.

As you climbed higher, a small tug on your sleeve made you stop.

"Lady, where are you going?"

You looked down to see a little girl standing beside you, her dark eyes round with curiosity. She was sucking her thumb, her tiny fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt.

Crouching down to her level, you offered a reassuring smile. "I need to find my friend."

The girl tilted her head, studying you with the kind of seriousness only children could manage. Then, after a moment, she leaned in slightly and whispered, "Be careful out there."

You raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

She pulled her thumb from her mouth and grinned, baring her tiny teeth. "There's a snake," she hissed, making a slithering motion with her hands. "They bite!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "I'll be careful."

With a gentle pat on the girl's head, you urged her to go play with the others before continuing your search.

"Karina!" you called, your voice echoing through the trees. The afternoon air was with the scent of damp earth and pine, the only sounds around you the rustling of leaves and the distant chatter of children below.

After what felt like ages of wandering, you sighed, pulling the apple from your pocket. Your thumb brushed against its smooth surface as you took slow steps forward, letting yourself take a small break.

Then, just as you were about to take a bite, something caught your eye.

It was small cabin, worn by time, tucked between the trees. You hadn't noticed it before, hadn't even realized anyone lived this far up the mountain.

Lifting your head, you parted your lips to call for Karina again but you heard a low, quiet, barely audible voice over the wind.

Your breath hitched slightly, and instinctively, you stayed silent.

Tilting your head, you slowly took a bite of the apple, the crunch loud in the stillness. Step by step, you moved around the cabin, careful not to make a sound.

You crept closer, your breath shallow, your fingers curled tightly around the apple. The rough wooden cabin stood against the trees, its single window slightly ajar. Through the gap, the muffled voices inside grew clearer—soft murmurs, hushed laughter.

A breathless moan.

Your body tensed, You hesitated for only a moment before tilting your head, peering through the dust-coated glass.

And that's when you saw the most sinful acts you've ever witness.

Karina was sprawled against the wooden table, her back arching beneath the weight of the farmer pressing into her. Her dress was bunched up around her waist, her bare thighs caging his hips. His hands gripped her skin, fingers digging into the softness of her legs, his mouth trailing down the curve of her neck.

Your stomach twisted, but you couldn't look away.

Karina wasn't resisting. She wasn't recoiling in shame or horror. There was no fear in her expression, no sign of guilt or repentance.

She was pulling him closer.

Her fingers wove into his hair, tugging slightly as her head fell back, exposing more of her throat to his lips. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her mouth parting with quiet, trembling gasps.

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

The nun's words echoed in your head, warnings of fire, of suffering, of bodies burning for their sins.

But Karina wasn't burning.

Your breath trembled as you stared, as the world you had known—the one built on prayer, on restraint, on the fear of temptation—began to splinter.

How is she not burning?

The apple slipped from your fingers, tumbling to the ground with a dull thud.

A hiss was heard. The sound was sharp, unnatural, cutting through the silence of the forest. Your body stiffened, a cold shiver crawling up your spine. Slowly, your gaze flickered to the tree beside you.

A snake. Its body coiled around the rough bark, scales glistening in the fading sunlight. It was watching you, its tongue flickering out.

Eve was tempted. Eve took the fruit.

Your stomach twisted violently as you staggered back, tearing your eyes away from both the serpent and the scene inside the cabin.

You ran. Branches scraped against your skin as you pushed through the trees, your feet barely touching the ground. The echoes of Karina's breathless moans clung to you, no matter how fast you tried to outrun them.

You needed to forget. To erase the moment of sin that had burned itself into your mind. To cleanse yourself before the weight of temptation swallowed you whole.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee..."

Your eyes clenched shut as you muttered the prayer, over and over, you repeated the words, as if their rhythm alone could cleanse your mind, could undo what you had seen.

The rosary felt heavy in your hands, the beads pressing into your palm. But no matter how tightly you held it, no matter how desperately you clung to prayer, the memory would not leave you.

"Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus."

You sucked in a sharp breath, your chest tightening.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners—"

Your voice broke. This was your fall.

A single tear slipped down your cheek, then another, until you were gripping the rosary so tightly your knuckles turned white. A quiet sniffle escaped you, but the tears kept coming, blurring the dim candlelight of the chapel.

You could not stop trembling, your stomach tightening, a dull ache spreading between your legs, heat pooling where it should not.

Your thighs pressed together instinctively, but it did nothing to stop the throbbing. You clenched your fists, willing the sensation away, but the images had already taken root.

Karina. The farmer. The way her body had arched into him, how she had clung to him. It should have horrified you. It should have disgusted you.

Instead, a shudder ran through you as your mind betrayed you, as the image shifted, reshaped itself into something far more forbidden.

Not Karina.

You.

And not the farmer.

Jake.

Your breath hitched. The thought was wrong—blasphemous. But it came unbidden, vivid and consuming, slipping into the cracks of your mind like sin itself. You saw him above you, his hands gripping your waist, his lips murmuring something against your skin.

Your rosary slipped from your fingers, the beads scattering against the marble floor.

You gasped softly, snapping your eyes open as if waking from a dream—no, a nightmare.

Your hands flew to your chest, pressing against your heart as if you could smother the racing beat beneath your skin.

No. No, no, no.

Tears welled in your eyes again, this time not just from guilt but from fear—of yourself.

This was your fall.

The serpent had coiled itself around you, whispering its venom into your ears, seeping into your thoughts, your body.

Karina was expelled after the nuns discovered what she had done during the community outreach.

You helped her pack in silence, folding the last of her skirts into a worn-out suitcase.

Your nose was red, your eyes swollen—for many reasons. Of course, you hadn't told anyone what you saw. That was yet another reason you were a sinner. You had kept her secret, watched in silence as she was cast out.

But worse—you couldn't stop thinking about it.

And worst of all, you had lost another prayer partner.

Your voice was quiet when you finally asked, "Do you regret it?"

Karina's hands stilled over the fabric of her blouse. She stared at the ground for a long moment before exhaling slowly. "No."

"They're sending me away," she continued. "Some isolated place, far from men. Away from temptation. They'll make me enter seminary, force me to repent, try to fix me."

She let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "Fix me. As if I'm broken."

You said nothing, letting her words settle between you.

Karina turned then, her gaze finding yours. "But I don't regret it. No matter what they try to tell me." A small, humorless smile tugged at her lips. "But you wouldn't understand, would you?"

Your fingers curled into the fabric of her dress as you folded it, staring at the delicate lace trim. "There are a lot of things I don't understand," you admitted. Then, meeting her eyes, you added, "But I do not judge. I am here to listen."

Karina studied you, her expression is pained. Then she let out a slow breath, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You know the story of Adam and Eve," she said.

You nodded. "Of course."

"They call it the fall," she murmured, tilting her head slightly. "But have you ever thought that maybe it wasn't a fall at all?"

You frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her fingers intertwined. "Eve took the apple. She chose knowledge, chose to know desire, hunger, craving. And for that, she was cast out." Karina exhaled through her nose, a bitter smile on her lips. "But maybe that was never a punishment. Maybe it was freedom."

She glanced at you then, "Christianity tells us that craving is sinful. That wanting—whether it's knowledge, pleasure, or love—will ruin us." Her voice lowered, "but tell me—why would God give us bodies that feel if He didn't want us to use them?"

Your throat felt dry.

"You've thought about it, haven't you?" Karina questioned. "You've felt it."

Heat crept up your neck, shame curling tight in your stomach.

Karina smiled, but it wasn't mocking. If anything, it was knowing. "It's normal to crave, you know," she said. "To want."

"In the city," Karina continued, "I heard students openly talk about sex. About how it's natural. They even discuss things like hormones, the way the body reacts to desire. When your clitoris—"

"Shhh!" Your eyes widened as you shot a panicked glance toward the door. Your hand moved on instinct, pressing against her lips to silence her.

"Do not use such vulgar words!" you hissed, even hearing such a thing felt wrong, like an invitation for sin to take root inside you.

Karina only laughed, she gently pulled your hand away, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "Why? Because the nuns don't want you to know your own body?"

Your cheeks burned, your fingers curling into your lap as you looked away. "Because it's wrong," you muttered. "You speak of things that lead to damnation."

Karina sighed, tilting her head. "Says who? The nuns? The ones who tell us that touching ourselves will set our bodies on fire?" She leaned in slightly, "Tell me, have you ever actually tried it?"

Your breath hitched as you swallowed, your pulse hammering against your skin. "I—I would never—"

Karina smiled knowingly. "Of course you wouldn't. Because you're afraid, aren't you?"

You stiffened. "Afraid of what?"

"That they were lying to you," she said simply.

You stared at her, Karina reached for your hand, her touch gentle as she placed it over your own lap. "If it's really so sinful," she murmured, "if it really makes you burn... then why don't you test it?"

Your breath caught in your throat. Her fingers pressed lightly against yours. "Go on. Just once. Just to see if their words hold any truth."

"If you want to touch yourself," she continued, undeterred by your silence, "put your fingers inside—but don't just push in and out. Curl them inside, find the spot that makes your legs shake."

Your entire body went rigid as Karina leaned closer, her lips curling, almost amused at your reaction. "And your clitoris—"

"Stop," you gasped, eyes widening as you instinctively clamped a hand over her mouth. Your other hand flew to the door, your head snapping toward it, terrified that someone might hear.

She giggled against your palm, her laughter muffled before she gently pulled your hand away. "Why are you so scared?" she teased. "It's just your body. It's natural."

Your cheeks were burning now, hot with embarrassment.

Karina sighed, tilting her head as if she pitied you. "If you ever do find someone," she continued, undeterred, "a boy—"

You swallowed hard.

"Let him play with your nipples." Her voice dipped lower, as if she were sharing a secret meant only for you. "Let him suck them, bite them just a little. It feels so good."

Your thighs clenched involuntarily.

"And a boy," she went on, eyes glinting with mischievous, "his penis—"

"Karina!"

She laughed, completely unashamed of her own words. "What? It's true! If you want to make a boy weak, touch him there. Play with it, stroke it, suck on it—especially the tip."

A choked sound escaped you.

"Giving someone pleasure," she said, watching your reaction, "is just as enjoyable as receiving it. Maybe even more."

Your hands trembled in your lap. You couldn't even look at her now. Your mind felt clouded, a war raging between every lesson the nuns had taught you and the curiosity her words planted deep inside you.

Karina exhaled, shaking her head. "You poor thing," she murmured, you bit your lip hard, trying to drown out the heat rising in your body with pain.

"You should try it, you know," she said after a beat, her voice almost gentle now. "Just once. Just so you know if they were lying to you all along."

Your chest tightened, your heart hammering so loudly you feared it might betray you.

Because the worst part wasn't her words.

It was that you wanted to know if she was right.

So you repented again.

You prayed and prayed for forgiveness, whispering desperate pleas beneath your breath, pressing your forehead against the cold chapel floor. You gripped your rosary so tightly that the beads left indentations in your palm, as if pain itself could cleanse you.

But it was getting harder. Especially now, with Holy Week approaching. Longer prayers, deeper fasting, more time spent in solemn reflection. And yet, the more you immersed yourself in worship, the more temptation gnawed at you.

Especially since Sim Jaeyun was the one leading Passion Week.

You sat among the others, hands folded in your lap, your gaze fixed on the cross, trying not to think about him. Trying not to remember Karina's words.

"If you ever find someone, let him touch you, let him play with you—"

You swallowed hard, clenching your fists against your thighs.

Women and men were not allowed to be seen too close together. A proper distance must always be kept, a respectable space left between bodies. A simple conversation was permitted—but only from afar.

"You do pray very often."

The voice came from behind you. You stiffened, your breath catching in your throat as you turned slightly—only to find him.

Jake stood just a few feet away, hands clasped in front of him. "Is something bothering you?"

You turned back toward the cross, swallowing the lump in your throat. Your fingers curled against your knees, sweat forming at your temples.

"No," you whispered, though the lie burned on your tongue.

Jake was silent for a moment. Then, softly, he said, "You can talk to me, you know. If something is troubling you."

You closed your eyes. How could you tell him?

How could you tell him that the prayers weren't working? That no matter how hard you tried, the thoughts would not leave you? That he was becoming the temptation you could no longer escape?

Your eyes started to water again, he knelt beside you, as his presence settled so dangerously close—closer than what was proper.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears, your fingers tightening around the rosary.

Jake watched you. From this close, he could see the way the candlelight illuminated your face, casting soft shadows along the delicate curve of your cheekbones. Your skin glowed, almost ethereal, as if touched by something divine.

You looked like a painting—one of the old Renaissance depictions of saints and martyrs.

Beautiful.

His gaze drifted lower, to the way your lips barely moved as you whispered prayers, the words shaky, your hands trembled over the rosary, clutched so tightly.

His eyes fell to your knees. The fabric of your skirt had shifted slightly, revealing the barest hint of bruised skin—evidence of hours spent kneeling.

He had seen piety before. He had witnessed countless prayers, watched the most devout of worshippers bow their heads in absolute faith.

But this—the way you prayed, the way you looked before the altar—felt different. He couldn't imagine what sin someone like you could have possibly committed.

His voice came quietly, "You should rest."

You flinched slightly at the sound of his voice,

"I can't," you murmured.

And then softly, without thinking—he reached out.

His hand hovered over yours for just a breath before settling atop your trembling fingers. Palm to palm, warm and steady, stopping you mid-prayer.

He didn't know what possessed him to touch you. Perhaps it was the way you looked so lost, so utterly consumed by something unseen. Or perhaps it was the fact that no nun was watching, no one to scold him for standing too close, for placing his hand over yours.

His touch was meant to be assuring. Nothing more. Nothing sinful.

But then you stiffened beneath him.

Your breath caught in your throat, your shoulders going rigid, your fingers twitching beneath his. Your heartbeat slammed against your ribs.

You turned your face toward him.

Jake sucked in a quiet breath as his eyes met yours—wide, desperate, a single tear slipping down your cheek.

He had never seen a gaze like that before. Not in church, not in prayer, not in the face of someone seeking salvation.

His fingers flexed slightly against yours, the warmth of your skin radiating beneath his palm. His thumb brushed against the back of your hand, a slow, instinctive movement, like a silent reassurance.

Before he could stop himself, his other hand lifted. Gently, hesitantly, he swiped away the tear that had slipped down your cheek, his fingertips barely grazing your skin.

You gasped softly. It was the smallest sound, but it sent something through him, something that made his fingers linger just a second too long against your face.

Your skin was warm beneath his touch. Soft. Alive.

It took everything in him to pull away.

The moment his fingers left your cheek, a strange kind of loss settled in his chest. He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against the fabric of his handkerchief before carefully pulling it out. Silently, he placed it in your trembling hands.

"Whatever you were praying for," he murmured, "I'm sure God will understand."

As if to anchor you back into the faith you were grasping so desperately onto, he smiled.

The kind of smile meant to bring comfort. But to you, it only made it worse.

"I should go," Jake said, you nodded, unable to meet his gaze. He shift beside you, the soft rustling of fabric as he stood. His presence lingered for just a moment longer before the sound of his footsteps echoed against the chapel floor, growing fainter.

And yet, his warmth remained.

Your hands trembled as you lifted the handkerchief to your face, pressing it against your damp cheeks. His scent clung to the fabric—a faint trace of sandalwood and incense, something undeniably him.

You exhaled shakily, squeezing your eyes shut.

God will understand.

A broken sob escaped your lips as you clutched the fabric tighter, your body trembling with something you no longer had the strength to fight. Tears slipped freely down your cheeks, soaking into the handkerchief as you sniffled against it.

Your fingertips skimmed over the waistband of your skirt, then lower, brushing against the thin fabric beneath.

A sharp breath left you when you felt the wetness, sticky and warm, pooling between your thighs, evidence of the thoughts you had failed to purge.

You should stop. You should repent.

And yet, your other hand only tightened around the handkerchief, pressing it closer to your face, inhaling the faint traces of him.

Still kneeling, you stared at the cross before you. Your body trembled, shame curling in your stomach.

You sobbed, your weight tipping forward, forehead pressing against the marble floor. Your free hand clenched at your skirt, your knuckles white with restraint.

Your finger dipped inside, a choked gasp slipping past your lips at the sudden intrusion.

The feeling was new, startling and unfamiliar. You hesitated only for a moment before pressing deeper, your body clenching around the touch, breath hitching as pleasure licked up your spine.

The nuns had warned you—the body will burn.

But as your fingers curled, as something electric shot through your legs, making them tremble, you realized this was not pain nor suffering.

Your mouth parted, a quiet, breathless sound escaping as you rocked into your own touch, your other hand bracing against the marble floor to steady yourself, the overwhelming scent of him filling your senses.

Sim Jaeyun—his hands hovering over yours, the warmth of his palm against your trembling fingers, the way he had wiped away your tear.

Your fingers pressed deeper, and a soft gasp escaped your lips. You imagined it was his touch, his fingers exploring you with hesitant curiosity.

"You do pray very often," his voice echoed in your mind, "Is something bothering you?"

Yes, he was bothering you.

You pictured him above you, his fingers tracing over the same places your own were now.

"Does it burn?" he would ask, voice laced with something both sinful and sacred.

And you would shake your head—because it didn't.

It felt holy.

Your body arched into your own touch, your legs trembling as heat coiled deep inside you, tighter and tighter, threatening to consume you whole. The pressure, the ache, the need—it was overwhelming. It was blasphemous.

Yet, it was the closest you had ever felt to salvation.

A gasp tore from your lips, soft yet sinful in the silence of the chapel. Your fingers pushed deeper, your body rocking to meet them, each movement sending dizzying waves of pleasure through you.

Beads of sweat dripped from your forehead, falling onto the floor. You added another finger, stretching yourself further, testing the limits of your own body. A choked whimper escaped as your walls clenched around the intrusion, your breathing ragged. Your other hand fumbled against the floor, grasping for stability, but there was none—no safety, no sanctuary, no way to stop now.

You think about his hands on your waist, his lips trailing down your neck. Your body tensed, your fingers working faster, chasing the edge of an unknown pleasure that built higher and higher—until it was too much, too much.

With one final, shuddering breath, the world shattered around you. Your body trembled, pleasure crashing over you in violent waves, a silent cry caught in your throat as your mind went blank.

Your body slumped forward, forehead pressing against the cool marble floor, your fingers slipping out as the aftershocks of pleasure left you breathless.

There was only silence. Only your heaving breaths, the scent of candle wax and incense thick in the air, the fading echoes of his name somewhere in the depths of your mind.

Then, guilt settled in, so heavy. You had really fallen.

And yet, as you lay there, pulse still racing, you couldn't bring yourself to repent.

The days blurred into nights, and with each passing moment, you felt yourself slipping further into something you could no longer control.

You couldn't meet your own reflection anymore. The girl in the mirror was not the same—her eyes hollow with guilt, her lips parted in silent prayer that never reached the heavens. You had abandoned the comfort of your rosary, leaving it untouched on your bedside table. Even the scent of candle wax and incense, once a balm to your soul, now felt suffocating.

It was as if a devil had settled inside you, whispering in your ear, feeding your thoughts with things no holy woman should crave. And yet, no matter how fiercely you fought it, you kept returning to your sin.

Each night, beneath the shroud of darkness, your body became a traitor. Your hands moved without permission, exploring places you had been taught were forbidden. Your bedsheets tangled around your legs, damp with sweat, evidence of your transgressions.

And always, always, his name spilled from your lips.

Each time, you found yourself back in the same position—fingers trembling, thighs clenched, gasping into the silence of your room, drowning in him. And it felt too good to stop.

"Have mercy on me, O God, according to Your unfailing love..."

You whispered it every day in the chapel, hands clutching the rosary so tightly. "According to Your great compassion, blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin..."

Tears slipped down your cheeks, soaking into the fabric of your sleeves as you knelt before the altar. You sobbed, your body wracked with guilt, your lips forming words of repentance.

And yet—when you returned to your bed that night, your body trembling with guilt, your prayers still lingering in the air—

You touched yourself anyway.

"It's impressive how you always pray," Jake said, his voice gentle, filled with quiet admiration. A small smile graced his lips. Another interaction. Another moment that would be burned into your mind, another weight added to the burden of your sin.

"How you always find time to speak with Him," he continued. "I'm sure whatever you're praying for, you'd be heard."

You swallowed hard. Would God listen when your prayers were no longer pure? When you begged not for salvation, but for relief from the temptation standing before you?

You forced a polite nod, quickly wiping at your damp cheeks, hoping he wouldn't notice how red your eyes were. How broken you looked. Your knees ached from kneeling for so long, your fingers sore from gripping the rosary too tightly. If only he knew what your prayers had become—not words of devotion, but desperate pleas for deliverance.

You were about to stand, to create distance, to escape before your body could betray you again. But before you could move, Jake lowered himself to kneel beside you.

The proximity sent a shiver down your spine. His presence was grounding, yet it set something uneasy alight inside you.

"You know," he said, voice soft, "I quite admire you."

Jake smiled, warm and sincere, his eyes searching yours as if he was seeing something sacred in you. "You share a special relationship with God," he continued. "The way you pray, the way you devote yourself—it's beautiful."

"I've seen the way you never miss a prayer," he went on. "The way you kneel here for hours, speaking to Him when no one else is watching. I've seen the tears, the way you hold your rosary."

His gaze flickered down to your hands, still red from gripping the beads too tightly.

"And I think... that kind of devotion is rare."

You swallowed, forcing yourself to look away, because his words—his praise—felt heavier than anything the nuns had ever told you.

Because it was him saying it.

He didn't know that your devotion wasn't pure. That your prayers were not for holiness, but for control. That when you closed your eyes at night, it wasn't scripture that filled your mind, but the memory of his touch.

"God must love you very much," Jake murmured, tilting his head slightly. "To have someone as loyal as you."

You inhaled shakily, without thinking, you shifted back, settling onto the wooden pew. Jake stayed where he was, still kneeling, his gaze fixed on the cross. You swallowed. Your fingers curled around the rosary in your palm

"Can I confess, Jake?"

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Jake turned his head, he hesitated for a moment before moving to sit beside you, his posture still composed. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice is with quiet curiosity. "I am not a priest—I can't take such confessions."

You exhaled sharply, your grip tightening around the rosary.

"Forgive me, for I have sinned."

Jake stilled beside you his confusion was evident in the way his brows knitted together, in the way his head tilted slightly as if trying to piece together what you meant. "Why?" he asked slowly.

You couldn't look at him. If you did, you feared he would see it. The truth. The war inside you. The way he was the very thing you needed to confess.

Your throat tightened as you muttered the next following words. "Because," you whispered, forcing the words out before you lost the courage to speak them, "I don't think I want to repent."

Jake stiffened beside you. His breath hitched, his entire body going rigid. His fingers curled against his lap, gripping the fabric of his trousers. "H-How can you say that?" His voice was unsteady, a stark contrast to the usual calmness he carried. His soft features, always composed, always gentle, were now pulled into shock and disbelief.

You swallowed, your throat dry, your heart slamming against your ribs as you forced yourself to continue. If you stopped now, if you let fear take hold, you would never be free of this.

"I think of things I shouldn't."Your voice trembled, but your gaze didn't waver this time. "I touched myself."

Jake's body jerked slightly, his lips parted again, but no words came, as if he had been struck speechless, as if the confession had ripped the breath from his lungs. His Adam's apple bobbed with a harsh swallow, the tendons in his neck tightening. His gaze flickered away, darting briefly to the cross above the altar, as if seeking guidance, as if seeking a way out. But there was none. He could not look at you, not when the weight of your confession was still lingering in the air

"You..." he started, but the words failed him. He shook his head, exhaling sharply through his nose. His brows furrowed, "Why are you telling me this?"

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap, nails digging into your palms as you forced yourself to speak—forced yourself to ruin yourself completely. "Because it was you, Jake."

Jake inhale, his eyes widening, but only for a second. Something changed—something deep inside him, something that flickered behind his dark gaze like a dying flame suddenly reignited.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, your skin tingling under the intensity of his stare. But you didn't stop. You couldn't.

"I touch myself with the thought of you."

Jake's fingers dug into his thighs, gripping so tightly. His breathing turned shallow, uneven, his chest rising and falling at a pace that betrayed his struggle. His gaze dropped—just for a second—to your lips, before snapping back up, but the damage was already done.

He was flustered.

"D-Do not say v-vulgar things," Jake whispered, his hands trembling slightly where they rested against his lap. But it was his eyes that held you captive—wide, burning, conflicted.

Your throat tightened, and before you could stop yourself, tears welled in your eyes again. "I don't think I'm free of guilt if I confess to God."

Jake flinched at your words. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach for you, to stop you, to comfort you—but he didn't. Because he shouldn't.

"I keep praying for forgiveness," you continued, your voice trembling, "but I do not regret what I have done."

Jake inhaled sharply. His gaze flickered to the cross for only a moment—as if searching for guidance—before returning to you. Your lips trembled as you forced out the truth, the final confession that sealed your fall.

"I only feel guilty because thinking of you is a sinful act against my own people."

A tear slipped down your cheek, falling onto your lap, soaking into the fabric of your skirt. You weren't sure what you were asking from him—absolution, understanding, or something far more dangerous.

"God is willing to forgive again and again, right?" you choked out. Jake's breath hitched, and then you asked the only question that truly mattered. "But are you willing to forgive me?"

His throat bobbed with another hard swallow, but he couldn't speak. Because there was no answer to give. Not one that would be right. Not one that would be true. He stood abruptly. The movement was sudden, almost jerky, as if he was running—fleeing.

You watched him, lips quivering, hands still clenched together in your lap.

His palm was sweaty as he brushed it against his robe, his pulse erratic as he stepped out of the chapel, the heavy door closing behind him with a finality that made your chest ache.

You didn't call after him. You didn't move. Because what could you say? He was already gone.

Jake arrived early at the residence hall, his movements stiff, controlled, as if forcing himself into habit, but as soon as the door shut behind him, his composure cracked. His chest rose and fell with deep, unsteady breaths, his hands running through his hair in frustration. The ghost of your voice lingered in his ears, wrapping around his mind like a noose.

"I touch myself with the thought of you."

"I do not regret what I have done."

His jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. He sank onto the bed, head falling back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut.

"But are you willing to forgive me?"

His breath came out shaky, ragged, as he muttered, "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..." His voice was strained and the prayer did nothing.

Nothing to rid him of the images flooding his mind, of your tear-streaked face, of the way your voice trembled, of the way you looked at him as if he held the answer to your salvation. He sucked in a sharp breath as his hands gripped the sheets beside him, as the tension in his body coiled so tight it hurt.

And then—he felt the unbearable heat pooling low in his stomach. The painful ache of his cock pressing against the fabric of his pants.

He let out a quiet, desperate whine, the sound muffled against his palm as he ran a hand over his face, as if trying to scrub away the shame, the want, the overwhelming weight of you. Still, the words of his prayer tumbled from his lips, over and over, between broken breaths.

Just like Adam, he had been steadfast. Pure. Untouched by temptation. He had walked the path of righteousness without faltering, without question, his faith as unwavering as the ground beneath his feet. He had known his purpose—to obey, to serve, to resist.

And yet, you— the Eve.

A whisper of temptation. Just as Eve had reached for the fruit, her fingers brushing against the knowledge of sin, you had reached for him—not with hands, but with words.

And now, like Adam, he was failing. He had seen the fruit before him. He had heard the serpent's voice, had felt the first stirrings of doubt deep in his chest, where conviction once lived.

He wanted to reach back.

To taste. To know. To fall.

Because wasn't that what Adam had done? He hadn't been deceived—he had chosen to fall with Eve. He had taken the fruit from her hand, knowing what it would cost.

"Take a bite."

The voice echoed in his mind, low and insistent, curling around his thoughts like a serpent coiled around a branch. Jake sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, but he did not see it.

Instead, he saw you.

He imagined you whispering to him, your lips forming the very words that now tormented him. He imagined your fingers brushing against his wrist, leading him closer to ruin. Just as Eve had turned to Adam with the fruit cradled in her palm, you had turned to him with your confession, tempting him in ways he had never been tempted before.

His cock throbbed painfully beneath the confines of his pants, damp with his own arousal.

"Take a bite," the voice urged again, slithering through the cracks of his crumbling resistance. His hands clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. He should continue praying, to fight whatever temptation the devil was filling him.

But instead, he lay there, panting, burning not with the way the nun teaches, his body betraying him as he squeezed his eyes shut. He let himself imagine.

"Heaven and earth are full," the voices soared inside the chapel, the morning light streaming through the stained-glass windows.

"Are full of your glory."

Jake's lips parted, but he did not sing. His gaze was fixed on you. You stood in the choir, your voice blending seamlessly with the others, yet somehow, to him, it was the only one that mattered.

Your long white dress fell in soft folds to your feet, the fabric catching in the gentle morning breeze drifting through the open doors. The wind moved through your hair, shifting it slightly, making it look almost weightless.

You were a vision of purity wrapped in divinity.

"Hosanna, hosanna."

Your eyes are dull and distant, told a different story. You sang the words, but you were not present. There was no joy, no reverence, only an emptiness that should not belong to someone standing before God.

"Hosanna in the highest."

But to him, you were the highest. More than the chapel's towering walls, more than the altar bathed in candlelight, more than the cross above them all. His fingers twitched at his sides, aching to touch, to reach, to worship. But not as a believer should.

"Show me."

The words slipped from Jake's. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes widening as you stared at him.

The small room at the back of the chapel felt unbearably tight, with the scent of old books and dust, the faint aroma of candle wax lingering in the corners. A candlelight was at the center of the table.

This was a place of study, of quiet contemplation, and A man and a woman should not be alone together. Not when the door was shut.

"Show me." Jake swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Show me how you touch yourself."

"H-Huh?" You stuttered, barely able to form words, your mind struggling to comprehend what he had just said. "Jake, you're so pure... I don't want you to be tainted like me. I already disappoint God—"

"Please, just show me."

His voice was desperate, his restraint fraying at the edges. Jake stepped forward, closing the distance between you.

Your breath hitched as he leaned over the table between you, hands bracing against the worn wood, trapping you between his body and the cold stone wall.

"I have thoughts about you too."

Your eyes snapped up to his, his eyes were glassy, his lips trembling as if the weight of his own confession was too much to bear, unshed tears brimming in his lashes.

"I thought of you that night," he murmured. You sucked in a breath, pressing yourself further into the table.

"I disappointed God too."

"Jake. . . " Your breath hitched at his confession as your eyes is searching on him. "Are you not afraid? Of the fire that will burn you?" you asked.

Jake's breath was uneven, his chest rising and falling as he leaned closer, his hands tightening against the edge of the table. "Does it burn you when you touch yourself?"

"Because when I thought of you," Jake continued, "my body just ached for your embrace."

Your heart pounded so loudly; you almost want to lower your head due to the proximity.

"It's not the fire that burns me."

He swallowed hard, his jaw clenched as his gaze bore into yours, "It's the ache of longing for you."

You had feared he would resist, that he would turn away, condemn you, beg for salvation. But he wasn't begging for salvation. He was begging for you.

"Take a bite," a voice in the back of your mind hissed—low and insidious.

And without another word, without hesitation, you reached for him. Your fingers curled around the nape of his neck, you pulled him in, lips met his.

A low, desperate moan escaped Jake's throat as he crushed you against him, his hands finding your waist, gripping you so tightly. His body pressed into yours, heat radiating through the layers of fabric that still separated you.

His lips moved against yours with a hunger that startled you. The tears that had brimmed in his eyes slipped down his cheeks.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling, needing. The kiss was desperate, both of your teeth are clashing. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more. The pressure of his mouth against yours softened after a moment, his lips parting slightly, then his tongue brushed against yours.

A soft gasp left your lips, and Jake seized the moment, his tongue slipping past the seam of your mouth, exploring, tasting. He groaned into you, the sound vibrating against your chest, making something hot coil in your stomach.

Your grip tightening in his hair as the kiss deepened, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes, coaxing you into submission.

"If you want to make a boy weak, touch him there. Play with it, stroke it."

Still kissing him, your free hand drifted lower, hesitant, until your fingers pressed over the hardness beneath his pants.

Jake cried out. His entire body jerked, his hips stuttering beneath your touch as he broke the kiss with a sharp gasp.

"Oh my Lord—"

His head fell forward, forehead pressing against your shoulder as his breath came out in ragged, uneven pants. His hands clenched at your waist, gripping the fabric of your dress.

You swallowed, watching in fascination as his body trembled beneath your touch.

Carefully, experimentally, you pressed your palm more firmly against him, stroking him slow through the fabric.

Jake whimpered. His hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction, chasing the pleasure, more relief, yet it was never enough. Your name slipped from his lips in a strangled moan, muffled against your shoulder.

"I want to see you. Please." You whisper, more like a whine as your fingers continued to stroke him through the fabric of his pants.

Jake lifted his head slowly, his breath ragged, his pupils blown wide with something that had nothing to do with faith. Tears streaked his flushed cheeks, his lips parted as they trembled.

His gaze locked onto yours, vulnerable yet so needy.

"W-Will you touch me more?"

His voice cracked at the end, his body shuddering as he fumbled with the buttons of his pants, his fingers shaking too much to work quickly. You watched as he hesitated, his chest rising and falling rapidly, before finally tugging the fabric down past his hips.

Your breath caught in your throat.

A penis. His cock was thick, long, flushed a deep shade of red. Fluid leaked from the swollen tip, dripping down the shaft in slow, glistening trails.

You remembered feeling disgusted way in anatomy class, staring at the stiff, clinical images in textbooks, thinking the male body was strange, almost grotesque.

Now, your mouth watered.

Heat pooled deep in your belly, your pussy clenching together involuntarily. You didn't even realize what you were doing until you were already on your knees.

Jake's breath hitched, his body going rigid. His wide, teary eyes stared down at you.

"W-What a-are you doing?" He exhaled sharply, his voice cracking. You glanced up at him, your hands settling on his thighs.

A whisper from your past came back to you, "Suck on it—especially the tip."

Your lips parted, and you murmured, "I'm going to pray for forgiveness." then you took him into your mouth.

"Ahhh—!"

A choked gasp tore from his lips, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. His hands flew to your head, fingers tangling in your hair, but he didn't push. He held on for dear life.

His knees buckled slightly, his breath coming in ragged, shuddering gasps as your warm mouth engulfed him.

You tasted the saltiness of his arousal, the unfamiliar flavor spreading across your tongue, but instead of pulling away, you took more.

"Jesus Christ, this is disgusting," Jake cried, his voice shaking—yet his hands remained buried in your hair, his hips jerking forward, pushing himself deeper into your mouth.

His breath came out in broken gasps as he watched you, watched the way your cheeks hollowed around his cock, the way your lips stretched to accommodate him. His fingers trembled where they tangled in your hair, torn between holding back and pushing in further.

"It feels too good—too good, too good—" he whined, his mouth falling open, eyes glassy.

Your stomach tightened at the sound, heat curling between your thighs at the way he was breaking apart. You wanted more, you needed more.

Your tongue traced along the underside of his shaft, your head bobbing steadily, each movement coaxing more whimpers from his lips. His thighs trembled beneath your hands, his entire body shaking with pleasure so foreign to him that he didn't know what to do with it.

"You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain." The words echoed in the back of your mind, a commandment you had already shattered beyond repair.

But you like hearing him, hearing the way he gasped for God, the way his voice cracked when he moaned between whispered prayers.

Your eyes flickered up, meeting his gaze. Jake whimpered, his breath stuttering as you took him further, pushing yourself until the tip of his cock brushed the back of your throat. Your gag reflex tightened, but you didn't pull away. You held him there, letting him feel everything.

"A-Ahhh—!"

A loud, uncontrollable moan ripped from his throat as his head fell back, exposing the column of his neck, veins prominent, his Adam's apple bobbing with every gasping breath.

His body tensed, his fingers gripping you too tightly, as if he was seeing God Himself in the pleasure washing over him.

His moans grew louder, needier—his entire existence reduced to you and the sin you were leading him into.

His grip in your hair tightened, his hips stuttering as he fought to keep himself from thrusting into your mouth, from losing himself entirely.

"S-Something's coming—something's coming."

His voice broke, whimpering and breathless. Still bobbing your head, you reached down with one hand, lifting your skirt, fingers sliding beneath the fabric of your underwear. The moment your fingers brushed against your slick folds; a moan vibrated against his shaft.

Jake gasped, his thighs tensing, his entire body shuddering at the sensation.

Your wetness coated your fingers, and with no hesitation, you pushed one inside, curling it the way you always had when you were alone—except now, you weren't alone.

Now, it felt too good to be true. Because Jake was in front of you.

Because Jake was falling with you.

Your own pleasure built with every movement of your fingers, every muffled moan that sent vibrations through him.

His hand slid down, trembling, until it brushed against your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, tears from how deep you had taken him, from how overwhelming it all was.

His touch was tender, contradicting the broken, filthy sounds spilling from his lips.

"You're—" he choked out, his voice wrecked. "You're touching yourself?"

You hummed around him, confirming, not slowing down, your fingers working deeper inside yourself as his body tensed above you.

Jake whimpered, his head falling forward, his lips barely parted as he stared. His stomach coiled tighter and tighter, his body trembling as his hips stuttered, chasing the feeling, unable to hold back.

"You look so beautiful," he sobbed, his voice raw and shaking. "So divine."

His gaze never left you, drinking in the sight of you—on your knees before him, lips wrapped around his length, taking him so deep without breaking eye contact.

A choked moan tore from his throat at the way you looked up at him, at the sheer devotion in your eyes. It was as if you had been sculpted by God Himself, crafted not from dust but from light, from holiness.

Jake had always admired you.

The way you prayed every afternoon in the chapel, hands clasped. How your lips moved so softly in whispered hymns, the way your voice blended into the choir like something celestial.

How you knelt before the altar, head bowed, untouched by the world around you, your beauty standing apart from anything he had ever known.

Now, you were kneeling for him, your mouth worshipped something else entirely.

His hips jerked forward, unrestrained, a sob catching in his throat.

"Oh—oh, my God—"

His entire body shook, the pleasure nearly blinding. A choked sob left his lips as his release spilled into your mouth, hot and thick, coating your tongue. His hips jerked involuntarily, pressing deeper until your nose met his abdomen, forcing you to take every last drop.

You moaned at the sensation, fingers working faster inside yourself, chasing the same pleasure that had just undone him. The taste of him lingered on your tongue, salty, forbidden—yet you swallowed it all, not letting a single drop go to waste.

Above you, Jake shuddered violently, his hands tangling in your hair as if clinging to you for stability.

His head tipped back; his lips parted in a silent cry as he came down from his high. His fingers trembled against your scalp, stroking gently.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whispered, his eyes clenched shut, his chest rising. He held you there, cradling your head against his abdomen, his body still twitching from the aftershocks.

You tapped his thigh twice, a silent signal. Jake inhaled sharply, His grip loosened instantly, and with shaky hands, he let go of you, his cock slipping from your mouth.

A thin string of saliva connected you, stretching between your lips and the flushed tip of him before breaking. Your tongue remained out, your breath ragged, your lips swollen and slick with the remnants of his release.

"You... you swallowed my seed," Jake whispered, you stared up at him through lidded eyes, your breath shaky, your body still moving, fingers still working inside yourself.

His gaze flickered downward, following the slow, desperate motion of your hand beneath your lifted skirt. His cock twitched, still sensitive, yet already stirring again at the sight of you.

"It... it should be in your uterus," he muttered, his brows drawing together. "Not your mouth."

A slow smile curled at your lips, heat simmering beneath your skin as you reached for his hand, guiding it to your cheek.

"Then pump me with your seed, Jake," you whispered.

A sharp inhale left his lips, his fingers tightening at your sides before he pulled you to your feet.

His mouth was on yours again, his hands trailing down your back, finding the zipper of your dress. He tugged it down slowly, the fabric loosened, slipping over your shoulders, pooling at your feet.

Jake pulled away, his lips parting as he took you in—your bare form. His throat bobbed, fingers trembling slightly as they traced over your waist.

He bent down, lips finding the curve of your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone.

Your gaze lifted past him, to the walls of the room—where portraits of nuns, saints, and martyrs hung in quiet judgement. Their solemn eyes bore into you, unblinking, unwavering. Your chest tightened, guilt creeping in but you didn't want to stop.

Instead, you let your eyes fall shut, choosing to surrender—to savor the moment.

"Teach me how to please you," Jake murmured against your skin, his hands encircling your waist, holding you close.

You inhaled sharply, your fingers threading through his hair before drifting down to cup his face. Your foreheads pressed together, breath mingling.

Jake's eyes fluttered shut as he sighed against your palm, his lips brushing against the center of it before pressing a tender kiss there. His own hands lifted, fingers tracing the shape of yours.

You pulled away slowly, you reached behind you, unclasping your bralette. The straps slipped from your shoulders, the fabric falling away, leaving your bare skin exposed to the afternoon light. Your underwear followed, sliding down your legs until you stepped out of them, standing before him in nothing but temptation itself.

Jake's breath caught, his entire body rigid as he took in the sight of you—completely bare, completely his to look upon, to touch.

His lips parted, his gaze roamed over you, over the soft curve of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the smooth expanse of your thighs. He had seen statues of angels, paintings of the Virgin Mary draped in flowing white, but no work of art, no scripture, no vision of heaven itself had ever looked as divine as you did now.

You turned, settling yourself onto the wooden table behind you, your legs parting slowly, revealing yourself to him without hesitation.

A shaky exhale left your lips as your fingers trailed down your own skin, tracing along your inner thigh before sliding to your labia. You arched your back slightly, sighing as you spread yourself wider, holding his gaze.

"Come here, J-Jake," you moaned, your breath hitching as you pushed a single finger inside yourself. Jake swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he reached for the buttons of his shirt. One by one, he undid them. He let the fabric slide from his shoulders, pooling onto the floor before taking slow steps toward you.

As he neared, his breath hitched, his gaze lowering to where your fingers disappeared inside your slick folds. His pupils dilated, "It's so wet," he whispered.

Before you could respond, his hand moved. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, still slick from your arousal, and gently pulled your hand away.

Jake's gaze flickered to your glistening fingers, then he brought your hand to his lips.

You gasped, your walls clenching involuntarily as his tongue flicked out, tasting you for the first time. His lashes fluttered shut, a soft groan slipping past his lips as he took more of you onto his tongue, savoring the taste.

When Jake opened his eyes again, they were darker.

"I want more." A sudden moan tore from your throat at his words, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. You reached for his wrist, guiding his hand between your legs, breath hitching the moment his fingers brushed against your slick folds.

Jake sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers trembling as they hesitated at your entrance, slowly he pushed a single finger inside you.

A gasp escaped you as he entered. His jaw clenched at the sensation, his breath uneven as he felt you—felt the way your walls clenched around him, soft and wet and so impossibly tight.

His free hand gripped your thigh for support, his own body shuddering. Then he curled his finger.

"Oh God!" A sharp cry left your lips, your back arching at the sudden jolt of pleasure. Jake choked on a moan, watching you intently, his eyes locked onto every flicker of expression on your face.

He did it again, this time slower, pressing deeper, and your fingers dug into his shoulders.  His breathing grew heavier, his forehead nearly pressing against yours as he whispered, "Can I touch your breasts?"

Your head fell back, your lips parting on a silent gasp. You nodded frantically, eyes shut, too overwhelmed to speak properly. But a pleading "please" slipped from your lips.

That was all the permission he needed. Jake's other hand rose cautiously, fingers ghosting over the curve of your breast before cupping it fully, squeezing experimentally. His breath hitched at the feeling—warm, soft, the peak pebbling under his touch.

You moaned at the contact, pressing into his palm, "You like that?" he asked.

You nodded quickly, tilting your chin up to kiss him again, swallowing his breath. Your body was burning in a way that the nuns never depicted, your core aching with want, and you didn't care how shameless you sounded when you pleaded, "Please, touch me more."

Jake swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as his fingers kneaded your breast, his other hand still buried deep inside you, working slow, torturous circles that made you gasp.

"Lean down and suck my breast," you whispered against his lips. "I heard it feels good."

Jake pulled back slightly, blinking down at you, his cheeks flushed. "Like a baby?" he asked, almost innocently, though the way his hips pressed forward, grinding his aching cock against your thigh, told another story entirely.

You let out a breathy laugh, though it was cut short when he twisted his fingers inside you, making your back arch.

"No," you whimpered. "Like a man who wants me."

Jake groaned, before lowering his head, his lips parting as he took your nipple into his mouth. The moment his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud; a cry left you.

He started gently at first, his lips soft and warm against your breast, still testing, still learning how to touch you. But as your back arched, as your fingers tangled into his hair and held him there, he grew bolder.

His lips sealing around your nipple, his tongue swirling. Then his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, just enough to send a delicious shudder down your spine.

"Jake—" you gasped, thighs clenching around his waist, trapping him against you.

He moaned against your skin, his free hand massaged your other breast, fingers rolling the hardened peak between them, mimicking the movements of his tongue.

"Add another finger inside me—please, please," you begged, voice breaking, hands clutching at his shoulders, urging him deeper.

Jake's forehead pressing against your chest bracing himself as he obeyed. His second finger slipped inside, stretching you further, filling you in a way that made your toes curl. Your walls clenched around him, tight, warm, so wet, and Jake whimpered, his hips bucking against your thigh at the feeling of you around his fingers.

"I want you inside me," you whispered into his ear, tears slipped down your cheeks. Jake let out a shuddering breath, his body stiffening at your words. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment. "They said it will hurt," Jake whispered, his fingers, still buried deep inside you, twitched. His free hand came up to your cheek, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb, his touch so tender it made your chest ache.

He swallowed hard. "I don't want to hurt you."

You leaned into his touch, your lips brushing against his wrist as you whispered, "I want to feel all of you, Jake. Even if it hurts, I want you."

Jake's breath hitched, his forehead pressing against yours. With trembling hands, he withdrew his fingers from your heat, watching the way your body shuddered, the way your thighs quivered as he left you empty. He brought his fingers to his lips without thinking, tasting you again, his eyes fluttering shut as he let out a quiet, needy moan.

Jake let out a shaky exhale, gripping himself at the base. His other hand rested on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "Are you sure?" he asked.

You nodded, spreading your legs further, offering yourself to him completely. "Please, Jake."

With a shaky breath, Jake lined himself up with your entrance, his tip pressing against your heat. His hands trembled as he gripped your thighs, steadying himself, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly, carefully, began to push inside.

A gasp tore from your lips the moment he breached you. Your arms wrapped around him, clinging to his shoulders, molding yourself against him as your body adjusted to the slow intrusion of his thick cock.

The stretch was overwhelming. Tears welled in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks as your walls struggled to accommodate him. Looking down, you saw—he had barely entered you. Only the tip, and yet, it already felt so much.

Jake let out a strangled moan, his breath stuttering as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

"S-Slow," you whimpered, your body trembling beneath him. Jake nodded rapidly, biting his lip so hard. His entire body was tense, his self-control hanging by a thread as he forced himself to move at an excruciatingly slow pace.

"You’re so—" He choked on his words, a desperate whimper escaping him. "So tight—God—"

His hips twitched involuntarily, and you gasped, your nails raking down his back at the sudden jolt of sensation. Jake's breath hitched at the sharp sting of your nails, his cock throbbing as he pushed in another inch.

A broken sob escaped you.

"I-It’s too much—" you whimpered, your walls fluttering around him, trying to adjust, trying to take all of him.

"Shh, I know, I know—" he whispered, kissing your tear-streaked cheek, peppering soft kisses along your jaw, trying to ease the overwhelming stretch. His hands slid down to your thighs, holding you open, rubbing gentle circles into your skin as he murmured against your lips, "do you want me to pull out?"

You shake your head, Jake exhaled sharply, his breath warm against your skin, his hands steadying you before he pressed forward again, stretching you further. Until you felt his abdomen on your navel. Every movement forcing your walls to open for him, to take him in ways you hadn’t known were possible.

Your breath hitched when you finally felt the press of his abdomen flush against your navel. A hiss escaped you, your back arching off the wooden table at the overwhelming sensation of being completely full. "Y-You're inside me," you gasped, as your gaze dropped between your bodies.

Jake groaned softly, his hands gripping your waist, his cock throbbing inside you as he fought to remain still, to give you time to adjust. "Yeah," he murmured, "I'm inside you."

Your breath was ragged, your fingers shaking as they slid up to his face, tracing the curve of his jaw. "I'm not burning," you whispered, half in disbelief. "I'm not burning."

The nuns had lied. The warnings, the fear, the fire they swore would consume you if you ever gave in to desire—it was nowhere to be found. There was only warmth. Only Jake.

Jake swallowed hard, his gaze locking onto yours. He reached for your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his eyes.

"You're not burning," you whispered. Jake brows furrowing, a gasp tore from your lips as he pulled out slightly before thrusting forward again, sinking into you. His mouth fell open, his head tilting back as he felt you, felt the way your walls clung to him, squeezing him.

His lips parted, but the only sounds that came were broken, incoherent prayers.

"Oh, God—" he choked out. His hands shook as they traced over your body, touching you, his fingers skimming your sides, your stomach, your breasts. You cried out as the pain shifted, morphing into pleasure.

"You're so beautiful," Jake sobbed, he thrust back inside you, deeper than before, his arms tightening around you. His chin rested atop your head, his lips brushing against your hair as he inhaled, breathing you in, letting your scent consume him as much as your body did.

"You're—you're everything," he whispered shakily, his hips rolling into you. "Made perfect, sculpted by God’s own hands," he moaned against your skin. "How could something so sinful feel so good?"

You whimpered beneath him, clinging to his shoulders. 

"I could do this every day," he moaned. Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering open, finding his face above you. He pulled back slightly, just enough to cup your face in his trembling hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks, wiping away the remnants of your tears. His forehead pressed against yours.

"I would do this every day," he corrected himself, groaned as he thrust deeper, his hips stuttering slightly at the way your walls clenched around him. "Worship you like this. Love you like this."

Your moans grew louder, your nails pressing deeper into his skin, leaving marks along his back as if claiming him in return.

Jake groaned, his lips parting, his body trembling from the way you felt. "Would you let me?" His eyes searched yours. "Would you let me taint you? Every day?"

His hands roamed your body, gripping your waist, then sliding lower to cup the back of your thighs, pulling you closer. His movements slowed, dragging out every sensation, every inch of him inside you.

Your back arched, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist, locking him in place, your breath coming in soft, desperate gasps as the pleasure built inside you. "Yes, yes!" you cried out. "Taint me, fill me with your seed—I don’t care anymore!"

A ragged moan tore from his throat as he thrust harder. "You're all I've ever wanted." His pace turned desperate, frantic. His hands shook as he rocked into you. His lips crashed against yours, swallowing your moans as he drove deeper, his body pressing you down into the wooden table. The room was filled with the sinful sounds of skin meeting skin, of breathless gasps and muffled cries.

"I’ll give you everything," Jake panted, his forehead pressing against yours, sweat dripping from his temple. "I’ll fill you up, I’ll make you mine—"

His thrusts grew erratic, his hips snapping forward, chasing release, chasing you.

Your walls clenched tighter, pulsing around him, and he whimpered, his body tensing, his breath stuttering as the pleasure coiled unbearably tight inside him.

"Jake, Jake," you whimpered, your hands drifted lower, fingers grazing over the stretch where your bodies met. You could feel him inside you, thick, pulsing, dragging against your walls with each deep, sliding thrust. 

Your fingers dipped lower, pressing against your clit. A sharp gasp escaped you. The moment your fingers touched the sensitive bundle of nerves, a bolt of another intense pleasure shot through you. 

Jake groaned at the movement, his grip tightening, his lips parting as he watched you touch yourself.

"It feels too good—too good," you sobbed, rolling slow, shaky circles against your clit, heightening the pleasure building inside you. Your walls spasmed around him, gripping him tighter, making his hips stutter.

"Oh my Lord," Jake moaned, his head dropping against your shoulder, his body shaking with the effort to keep himself together. "This—this feels too good. I am willing to sin every day to get a taste of you."

"I would trade heaven just to stay inside you forever—"

His teeth grazed your jaw, his fingers locking around your wrists, guiding your movements against your clit, urging you faster, desperate to bring you with him.

"Please—please, come for me," he begged, and with one last deep thrust, as your fingers circled your clit faster, as his cock hit the perfect spot inside you.

The pleasure snapped through you, your entire body seizing as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. Your walls clenched around him, pulsing, milking him as your climax washed through every inch of your being.

Jake choked on a moan, his body jerking as he buried himself deep, hips stuttering, his breath breaking into ragged gasps. His hands trembled as they gripped your hips, holding you still as his release spilled inside you, hot and thick, filling you completely.

His lips found yours again as he emptied himself into you, his body still shaking from the intensity of it all.

You gasped into his mouth, still riding the aftershocks, feeling the warmth of him inside you. Neither of you moved for a long moment, too overwhelmed, too wrecked to do anything but exist in the sinful haze of what had just happened.

Jake’s hands slowly slid up your back, his fingers tracing over your spine made your chest tighten. Finally, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze soft but dazed, as if he still couldn’t quite believe what he had done—what you had done together.

 "Are you okay?"

Your heart ached at the tenderness in his voice, at the way he searched your face for any sign of regret. But there was none. You reached up, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering against his cheek.

"I'm full of you," you murmured, "I can feel you inside me."

Jake groaned, his hands tightening on your hips, his entire body tensing as he let out a shaky breath. Yet, even as exhaustion threatened to pull him under, his cock twitched inside you—still buried to the hilt, still too sensitive, yet already stirring again at your words

"Don't say that," he whispered, but his hands betrayed him.

They slid upward, over your waist, tracing the curve of your ribs before finding your breasts again, cupping them, thumbs circling your pebbled peaks. His fingers kneaded softly, rolling the sensitive flesh between his palms. 

Your back arched, your head tipping back, letting your hair cascade over the edge of the table. Your lips parted in a breathless moan, the aftershocks of pleasure still tingling in your veins, yet now, a new wave of desire was coiling inside you again. 

You were undone beneath him, your body glistening with sweat, your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyes still dazed, darkened with lust. And yet, you looked untouched. 

His grip on your breasts tightened slightly, his hips pressing forward just enough to remind you that he was still inside you.

"You make me forget who I am," he murmured, his breath shaky against your throat. "What I'm supposed to be."

His lips found the pulse at your neck, trailing down again at every inch of your skin. 

Neither of you noticed the way the candlelight flickered. Because you had both awakened the Tree of Knowledge.

And neither of you would ever return to Eden.

Jake had always been a man of God.

From the moment he could speak, he was taught that he was formed from the dust of the earth, molded by divine hands, a creation of purpose. His parents instilled in him the belief that he was meant to walk the righteous path, to live a life devoted to prayer, to obedience, to purity.

He appreciated every intricate work of the Creator—the way the sun spilled golden light over the stained-glass windows of the churches, the way the choir’s voices soared in perfect harmony, the way scripture spoke of faith and the reward of salvation. He saw God in everything, and in return, he gave himself to Him, dedicating his days to scripture, to service, to resisting the sins that so easily ensnared others.

Where others strayed, he remained steadfast. Where others indulged in temptation, he turned away.

He had watched boys his age succumbs to their own desires— lusting over naked bodies, wandering hands beneath heavy blankets. He had seen the way girls blushed at their names being called by the wrong kind of voice, the way they giggled behind cupped hands, oblivious to how close they danced to damnation.

But not him.

Jake had spent his youth guarding his body, his mind, his soul. He never allowed himself to waver, never let his thoughts wander to things he had been told were unholy. And if—if—his body ever betrayed him in the quiet of night, if his skin burned with an unfamiliar ache, if his mind was tempted by images that had no place in his heart, he would fall to his knees in prayer.

He would beg for forgiveness, whispering fervent apologies, asking for the strength to resist, the grace to overcome.

And for years, he believed he was strong enough.

He believed his faith was unshakable, that no force on earth could tempt him away from his devotion. He had spent his life resisting, rejecting, turning away from desire as though it were a serpent poised to strike.

During one of his evening services at the university chapel, he saw you. At first, it was nothing. A passing glance. A new face among many, just another student filling the pews, singing hymns.

But then, he saw you again.

And again.

You stood among the choir, always placed near the back, always just slightly out of reach—like something meant to be admired from afar, never touched. Your voice wove seamlessly into the others, rising with the organ, filling the chapel, but it wasn't just your voice.

It was the way you bowed your head in prayer, hands folded so delicately. It was the way you knelt before the altar, the way your fingers curled around your rosary.

And every time he saw you, every time your lashes fluttered closed, every time your lips parted to whisper scripture. He would whisper to himself, Song of Solomon 4:7.

"You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you."

Because when he looked at you, he saw something more than human.

He saw a reflection of God’s love, a testament to His creativity—flawless, untouched, pure in ways he never realized he could ache for.

He told himself it was admiration. That his heart only quickened because he saw God in you. That the warmth spreading through his chest whenever you smiled at the nuns, whenever your fingers brushed against the pages of your worn bible, was nothing but spiritual devotion.

But the more he saw you, the harder it became to believe the lie. Because you were forbidden. So untouchable it hurt.

And by the time he had a taste of your poison, by the time your lips had met his, by the time he had felt the warmth of your body pressed against him, wrapped around him. He couldn’t stop craving.

"Jake—" you whined, your voice hushed, breathless, your hands pressed against the cool tiles of the wall for balance. Your body rocked with each deep thrust, your skirt bunched up around your waist, your panties pulled aside in rushed desperation.

Here he was, buried deep inside you in the thin, suffocating space of the girls’ restroom, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you as you bounced against him. He had barely gotten them down before he was inside you. 

Jake let out a shaky breath, his forehead falling against the back of your shoulder, his hips snapping forward, a choked moan escaping his lips as your walls squeezed around him.

"D-Do you love my c-cock inside you?"  He stammered. His hands slid from your hips, traveling up, slipping beneath your uniform blouse to cup your breasts, kneading them, his thumbs rolling over your sensitive peaks as he thrust deeper.

"Answer me," he pleaded, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

A sharp gasp left your lips, your head tilting back against his shoulder as your walls clenched even tighter. "Y-Yes," you whispered, your fingers curling against the cold tile, your knees going weak.

"Say it."

"I love it, Jake," you sobbed, barely holding yourself up as he drove into you faster. "I love your cock inside me—I love it so much—"

Jake whimpered, his grip on you tightening, his entire body shuddering against yours as he lost himself again.

Nothing in this world felt holier than you. Every secret rendezvous was another prayer whispered in the dark, another moment stolen between fleeting glances and hurried footsteps, another sin sealed between trembling lips.

It was your skin against his, pressed against the cold walls of empty classrooms, hidden beneath the dim glow of flickering candlelight in the chapel, tangled in sheets that smelled of guilt and devotion.

It was your kiss—sweet and sinful, your lips brushing against his top lip before capturing him fully, pulling him under, making him forget the weight of his conscience.

It was the way your fingers found his face, tracing over his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, down to the sharp line of his jaw.

"Jake," you would whisper, your touch like a baptism, washing away the person he once was and leaving behind someone entirely yours.

Your hands never hesitated when they roamed his body, memorizing the contours of his muscles, the dip of his collarbone, the ridges of his spine. Your body molded to his, fitting perfectly, as if you had been crafted just for him.

And God, how could something that felt this right be wrong? How could he look at you and believe this was damnation?

You were not a temptation.

You were his salvation, And if this was sin—if loving you, wanting you, needing you—meant turning away from heaven, then so be it.

Because Jake had already made his choice and he would choose you every time.

"They say if you have sexual preferences, it's called a kink," Jake mused, his arms wrapped loosely around your shoulders as he stared out at the lake, watching the water ripple under the soft afternoon light.

It was a rare that the both of you escape—just the two of you, away from the suffocating walls of the university.  Here, it was quiet. Peaceful.

You hummed in amusement, leaning back against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. "Hmm, I think I have a nose kink."

Jake chuckled, tilting his head slightly. "A nose kink?"

You grinned, turning to look up at him, mischief dancing in your eyes. "I love your nose," you said simply, reaching up to tap the tip of it gently with your finger. "I love how it bumps against my clit."

A giggle slipped from your lips as Jake let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, his ears tinged slightly pink.

"You're unbelievable," he murmured, pressing his chin lightly against your shoulder, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his fondness.

You shifted, wrapping your arms around his, your fingers playing with the fabric of his sleeves. "What about you? Do you have a kink?"

Jake pretended to think, his lips pursing before he finally admitted, "I love your tongue."

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh?"

His smile widened, his fingers trailing lazily along your arms. "I love how soft it is when you kiss me," he said, voice dropping slightly. "I love the way it feels against my skin, how warm it is when you—"

He stopped himself, biting his lip, his cheeks darkening as he let out a flustered chuckle. "You know."

You turned fully in his embrace, resting your chin against his chest as you beamed up at him. "Say it."

Jake groaned, rolling his eyes, but there was nothing but adoration in them as he dipped his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. "I love how your tongue feels when you're tasting me."

Your giggles turned into full laughter, your arms tightening around him, and he let out a breathy laugh of his own, shaking his head in defeat.

The wind rustled through the trees, the lake shimmering under the sunlight.

"Do you think God still loves us?" you asked, Jake's fingers threaded through your hair, slow and gentle, playing with your scalp as he stared out at the lake, watching the way the sunlight danced over the rippling water.

"Yes," he said, without hesitation.

You blinked, tilting your head slightly to look up at him. "How can you be so sure?"

Jake exhaled softly, his lips curling into a small, thoughtful smile. "Because love doesn’t disappear just because we fall." His gaze met yours. "God loved David even after his sins. He loved Peter even after he denied Him three times. Love isn’t something that fades because of our mistakes. It’s unconditional."

Your chest tightened at his words, at the quiet conviction in his voice.

"Then why do I still feel guilty?" you whispered, pressing your cheek against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Jake sighed, his chin resting lightly atop your head. "Because we've been taught to fear Him more than we've been taught to trust His love."

Silence stretched, only the soft rustling of trees and the distant laughter from the festival carrying through the breeze. After a moment, Jake spoke again, "but when I’m with you…" he paused, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your arm, "I feel closer to God than I ever have before."

You pulled back slightly, eyes searching his, the weight of his words settling deep in your chest. "How?"

He smiled, leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead again before whispering,

"Because you are the most beautiful thing He’s ever created."

Your breath hitched, your hands tightening around his shirt as warmth bloomed in your chest.

Jake tilted his head, his lips hovering just above yours. "And if loving you is a sin…" he murmured, a teasing smile playing on his lips, "then I guess I’ll just have to keep repenting."

His hands wandered lower, tracing slow, idle patterns along your upper thigh. You shivered slightly at his touch, but it wasn’t just the sensation that made your breath hitch—it was the way his finger moved deliberately, forming letters, one by one, spelling out a single word:

"Mine."

Your lips parted, your heart stuttering in your chest as your gaze flickered up to meet his.

Jake only smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting, "I will leave the university," he said suddenly. 

Jake exhaled slowly, "I’ve realized a lot of things, and one of them is…" He hesitated, searching your face, then sighed. "I don’t think I was ever meant to be the man they wanted me to be."

Your throat tightened. "Jake—"

"Everything is okay," he reassured you, his voice firm, calming. "I don’t regret any of it. Not the prayers, not the faith—but I also don’t regret you. And if the only way to keep you is to walk away from what was never truly mine, then I’ll do it."

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears, your fingers curling around his wrists. "You would do that?"

"I would do anything for you," he muttered, "I was never meant to be a saint, and I don’t think I want to be anymore." His fingers tightened around yours, grounding himself in the warmth of your touch, in the certainty of this moment. "I just want to be yours." 

A breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding.  You swallowed, your lips parting before you whispered, "Ruth 1:16-17."

Jake tilted his head slightly, his brows raising in curiosity. You smiled softly, squeezing his hand. "Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay."

His gaze softened, warm and full of love, as if in that moment, there was nothing else in the world but you and him. Jake swallowed, his fingers tightening around yours as he whispered back, "Song of Solomon 3:4."

Your breath hitched. A sharp sting burned behind your eyes as you realized what he was saying, as the words sank into your skin, into your soul. Tears welled up, spilling onto your cheeks as he brought a trembling hand to cup your face, his thumb wiping them away.

"I have found the one whom my soul loves."

A quiet sob escaped you as you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes, letting the weight of his words settle into the deepest parts of you.

That was the day you faced the judgment of others.

Whispers followed you down the chapel halls, sharp as knives, spoken behind cupped hands and lowered eyes. You were no longer the devout girl they had known, no longer the image of purity they had placed on a pedestal.

You were cast out, stripped of the life you had once known, condemned for surrendering to the desires they warned you against. For falling, like Eve, for stepping into temptation and taking the bite that could never be undone.

But none of it mattered. Because just as Adam had followed Eve into exile, Jake followed you. It had always been him and you. It would always be him and you.

You would always choose him—religiously, faithfully.

You clutched Jake’s hand, sweat beading on your forehead, your body trembling as pain surged through you. Your body trembling with exhaustion. The midwife kneeled before you, her voice firm yet reassuring, guiding you through labored breaths as she prepared to deliver your third child.

Jake pressed a kiss to your damp temple, whispering words of encouragement, of love, his grip unwavering as he held onto you, just as he always had.

He wiped away the tears spilling from your eyes, just as he had that day by the lake, when he promised you that everything would be okay.

And as you cried out, as life pushed forward, as your body bore the proof of your love.

"You’re so strong," he murmured. "Just a little more, my love. I’m right here."

Another sharp cry left your lips, your back arching as the final push sent waves of relief crashing over you.

A baby’s cry filled the room.

A sharp, piercing sound, followed by the relieved murmurs of the midwife as she carefully wrapped the tiny, wriggling form in soft cloth. Your head fell back against the pillow, your chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. Jake’s hand trembled as he reached for you, his lips pressing against your knuckles, his gratitude unspoken but infinite.

Tiny footsteps thundered against the wooden floor.

"Mama!"

The door burst open, and two small figures ran inside, their eager little hands gripping the edges of your bedsheet.

Cain and Abel—your firstborns.

Their wide eyes shimmered with excitement; their faces flushed from running. Cain, the elder, clung to Jake’s arm, while Abel climbed onto the edge of the bed, trying to peer over your shoulder.

"Did it hurt, Mama? Are you okay?" Cain asked, his brows furrowed in concern, his little hands gripping onto Jake’s sleeve.

"It’s okay, my love," you soothed, your voice weak but filled with warmth as you reached for them. "I am okay."

Jake’s breath hitched as the midwife gently placed the newborn into his waiting arms. A soft gasp left his lips as he cradled the tiny child against his chest, his eyes glistening with tears. His fingers traced the delicate curve of the baby’s cheek, his voice breaking as he whispered, "Seth."

At the sound of his father’s voice, the newborn let out a small, sleepy whimper, tiny fists curling against Jake’s chest. Cain and Abel watched in awe; their excitement momentarily silenced as they stared at their new baby brother.

"Seth," Abel repeated softly, as if testing the name on his tongue.

"He’s so small," Cain murmured, his fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to reach out and touch him.

Jake let out a choked laugh, pressing a kiss to Seth’s forehead before carefully settling beside you on the bed. His arm curled around your shoulders, pulling you close, his free hand still cradling your newest son. And as your children gathered around you, their voices filled with wonder.

As Jake’s lips found your forehead once more, you exhaled, a breathless, relieved sigh. You thought of Eden. Of Adam, formed from dust. Of Eve, crafted from his rib, made for him, meant to be his. The two of them had once lived untouched, unburdened, perfect in their innocence.

But love—true love—was never meant to exist without choice.

And so, they had fallen. Not out of defiance. Not out of sin. But out of love—a love so deep, so human, it had rewritten the course of existence itself.

Your body spent, your children nestled close, your husband’s arms wrapped around you as he held his world in his hands. Your tired eyes fluttered shut, as Jake pressed another soft kiss against your skin, your newborn stirred gently in his father’s arms.

Falling had never been a punishment. Because It is a gift.

perm taglist: @won4me @ikaw-at-ikaw, @kristynaaah, @fancypeacepersona @tunafishyfishylike @vvenusoncasual, @cutehoons02,

[bucknerdycore]

AITA for walking out on my ex after he said something hurtful?

So, this is kind of a mess, but I need some outside perspective.

I (40M) used to date A (30M). We’re both firefighters. We had a good thing for a while, but it didn’t work out, and I broke up with him because I knew he would find someone better. It was amicable enough, though I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt.

A few nights ago, I saw A at a bar. We talked, had a few drinks, and—it just felt easy again. The way it always did. One thing led to another, and we hooked up.

The morning after, I brought up our breakup. Asking for his plans and joking about "the competiton" who was his best friend and insinuating that he had feelings for him. He kind of laughed at my idea of him being in love with his best friend and said, "I don't have to have feelings for everyone I sleep with." That hit me hard. Maybe I was naive to think there was still something between us, but hearing that? Like I was just some random guy, not the person he used to love? I told him I had another shift and left his house.

For context, one of the issues when we were dating was that I sometimes felt like I was competing for his attention. Not with another partner—but with his best friend, B. I know B is straight, I know they’re just close, but I felt like there was always a part of A that I’d never get to reach, no matter what I did. When we were together, I told myself it wasn’t a big deal, but maybe it was.

I haven’t spoken to A since that night, but I know word’s getting around that I just up and left, and I’m starting to wonder if I overreacted. So... AITA?

[foldingfittedsheets]

Hi!

I've read through your mattress FAQs and many of your asks on sleeping but I'm still kind of lost about the mattress shopping process. Here's a summary of what I have learned from you: 1) bed in a box is evil 2) medium is the best bet for firmness 3) individually wrapped coils are good (?) 4) lay on a bed to test it 5) do A/B testing for beds 6) box springs are necessary

Beyond that, I'm still a bit confused. What are all the different options for mattress material? Why might someone choose (for example) memory foam over a hybrid? Is there a non-hybrid spring option? Are non-individually wrapped coils a thing? Are adjustable beds a good thing or just a scam?

My partner and I combined are over 400 pounds. We're looking for a queen that we expect to sleep on for 2-5 years. After that, we hope to upgrade to a king and stick the queen in a guest room. We'd like to get something under $1,000 since we'll need to get a frame and box frame too. My partner snores sometimes and is a side/back sleeper mostly. I am a side/front sleeper mostly. (I've had a few episodes where I think I just stopped breathing/couldn't breath for a bit in my sleep, and they've only happened when sleeping on my back. So I am mildly terrified of back sleeping but could be convinced to go back to it if I could guarantee that never happens again.)

Thank you in advance if you choose to answer my plethora of questions :)

I feel like. You’ve put yourself in research hell.

It’s easy to do.

The best thing to do is go and actually lay on beds. Talk to a salesperson. My guide in a guide not a full sales experience and unless you legit wanna buy a bed from me it’s more effort than I put into my lil blog.

[biblionerd07]

I gotta gush about something from the Residence, the White House murder mystery on Netflix starring Uzo Aduba. (Spoilers ahead but as far as I know they’re spoilers for character backstory but not for the plot of the show, though I’m only on episode 4 so idk if this comes into play later.)

Okay so there is a thing that writers sometimes do when trying to convey backstory to the audience where they have the characters just explain their backstory to someone. But often they are doing this to someone who would already know, like a family member/partner/longtime friend. You know I love my man Taron, but Netflix’s Carry-On did this with his character and his girlfriend multiple times. Like who’s been dating their partner for 2 years and says things like, “You moved here to be with me. That was 2 years ago.” It’s awkward and unnatural because people don’t talk like that to each other. They both already know that! But it’s hard because you want to tell your audience the story.

So, on to the point of this post. The 4th episode of the Residence opens with Cordelia on a birding trip with her nephew, who I think is somewhere in the 10-12-year-old range. He’s discouraged and wants to give up because they can’t find the bird they’re looking for, and Cordelia tells him about not giving up while looking for a lost sock.

She tells her nephew that his mom (her sister) had a favorite pair of socks as a child. She’d wear these socks every other day, even if they were dirty. Her nephew asks what was so special about the socks and Cordelia says, “They were a gift from her brother.” Her nephew’s face gets serious. Cordelia goes on to talk about how distraught her sister was when one of the socks was lost. She wanted to skip school to find it. She cried. Cordelia promised to find it and skipped school to look for it. She says, “I even looked in places I wasn’t supposed to look” and we see a closed door that a child-Cordelia opens to reveal a boy’s bedroom in an obviously untouched state. At one point in the story she mentions a neighbor bringing food by for the family even after her dad didn’t want the neighbor to do that anymore.

Neither Cordelia nor her nephew ever say the brother died. Because they don’t need to. In real life, you don’t need to remind your 10-year-old nephew about your brother who died. He knows, and he’s not a younger kid who would blurt it out just because he knows it. Instead of going for the unnatural “let me talk at you so we get character backstory through dialogue”, the show gave us the hints we needed and trusted us to put the pieces together ourselves.

We still get the backstory they wanted to tell us, but it doesn’t stand out as a weird conversation between family members. It’s so much more natural and I’ve been thinking about it all day because it was so refreshing. I feel like so. many. shows these days spoon-feed the audience every single detail and it leaves the dialogue feeling awkward. It was so nice to have a show say “here, you’ve been alive long enough that you can understand what we’re saying.” And we can! It was not particularly subtle, despite never actually saying the words. It was just really good!

[sage-is-in-fact-very-tired]

so like . maybe opening a Google doc for this is a bit much however (future sage after they finished, it was not. it was not a bit much) . consider . who cares

the paragraph analysis (that isn't 2k words) - morally grey, maybe leaning more villain, some vague concepts of like- power? (of the magic kind?), probably was part of a group / company and isn't anymore . also like . getting vague toxic ex vibes from at least two of those songs.

anyway. I've gotten very good at analyzing songs as we all know. and so - a short little analysis based on nothing but the vibes of those songs <3

-> [Bones]

-> giving very morally grey kinda vibes? something about like- “I'll take the long road home that's lined with blood and snow” have they killed people? maybe their past involves some kind of death? the whole thing of innocent but they'll still serve time, maybe they're being blamed for some kind of death? The line about being your own worst enemy - do they blame *themself* for something that happened? do they think they're a bad person and keep going on anyway? Also that first like “can you believe in something that you can't even see? Can you agree we're part of something bigger than you and me?” Very ‘part of a suspicious group” kinda vibes, especially with the other lines about blood and innocence. “The mirror's always showing me a shell of who I used to be” maybe they used to be a better person than what they are now? (Looks at Little Wolf. looks at Little Wolf so hard)

-> vaguely kinda . toxic (or more than just toxic) ex vibes if you look at it in the right lens . like the lines about “you can give and take” and “Crack my bones but my heart won't break” like. yeah

-> [AC/DC]

-> this one is giving me . a time . because okay the main thought is of course like- robot. or some kind of mechanical parts, connected somehow to something like that?

-> if we go robot route, you have the obvious of like- morally grey robot being used by slightly evil group / company to do their dirty work, but in combination with all of the other songs I'm not quite sure that really fits completely?

-> could actually be more *the group / company* talking to starbound!sherb as opposed to starbound!sherb themself, which in context to the other songs I feel might be a bit more likely? honestly this song is the most confusing one to me-

-> [Rats]

-> something about how the group they work for is a little evil and they're all kind of rats and rats aren't considered good or clean or anything (something about having blood on their hands?) “Guess he's only got himself to blame” Something about how they've done bad things but (they believe) it's kinda their fault because they kept doing it without any question

-> and the other thing . toxic ex vibes . just very toxic relationship vibes . something about “love me like the rats in the cupboard” but like they wouldn't be loved because no one *wants* rats in their cupboard. the “watch me me burn and feed the flames” something about a possible partner (or I guess this could be like- okay I have brain worms and they definitely *were* apart of some kind of group so this could be referring to that but . lemme have my fun <3 - and this doesn't feel like the kinda song sherb would pick if thats the case? soooooo /silly) letting them wear themself down and feed the fire of why they're not a good person? “Do you ever get sick of watching me cave in” like ??? okay now . something about getting close to someone and then just . They don't help you and just watch you from afar. mmm. “Pull me apart and spreed me thin” do I need to elaborate . like. same reason as the last one- “told me she was back and here to stay, said she loved me and she wants my money, well I told her not today” very like- maybe controlling past partner maybe? this whole song gives very toxic relationship vibes and I dunno how else you want me to say that- “love me like the rats in the cupboard, not enough to keep a dying flame” something something starbound!sherb finally walking away from this? finally going off and trying to distance themself from this person?

-> half vaguely coherent thought of maybe like- them leaving the possible group they could've been apart of and like- getting into a relationship that isn't healthy in the slightest bc they haven't been able to process and the other side is just toxic? you know? shrug

-> [Sinners]

-> very just . morally grey vibes. not like lyric wise just like Vibe wise you must listen to it to understand I feel. “I must be good for something” so they want to be useful huh? is that a thing they wanna do? hm? /silly “oh Sinners come down, come gather round” something about maybe formerly being in a group - maybe being in some sort of higher up position? who knows, not me, clearly. “Let's go have some fun before they put us in the ground” so there's people after their group or just them perhaps? (with the addition of leave me alone later on the playlist, this is highly likely that *someone* is after them) “lions sit in solemn lines, drinking gin and dropping lines” something about whatever they do being very like- controlling? (could tie back to AC/DC maybe?) like them being on a tight ship perhaps? there's a lot of repeating lyrics in this one so there's not too much for me to look at with my eyes :(

-> [Little Wolf]

-> so this is the outlier of the group it'd seem . and . okay I've been brain worms about this one. because there's like- two ways yoou can see this one. also they're for sure not Athena I hope we can agree on that-

-> so option number one that- I think makes the most sense, is that in the context of this song they'd be antinuous. Kinda of more of that “morally grey, leaning a bit more ‘villain’” kinda vibes they got going? Just very antagonistic and stuff like that? (To who is another question but we probably can't get that just from the playlist)

-> other option is they're telemachus - a younger version of them only hoping to be a good person (perhaps joining a group in hopes they'd be able to help out with space horrors?), being taken under the wing of someone older and willing to protect them. (something about how arguably, under this interpretation, they could very easily be *both* telemachus and antinuous, trying to be good at the beginning and only ending up a worse person despite. Perhaps this is some kind of internal dialog, who knows. it's funky thinking about what's up with them)

-> [Dark Science]

-> This is the part I get the vague power vibes from? it just has that vibes and I can't explain it more than that-

-> actually on second thought it could also just be like- the group they were / could've been a part of? like something about their leader or a recruiter talking to starbound!sherb? and or star!sherb talking to like- a victim, but I lean more to the first option? something about the pre-chorus “Of your cold heart, no spark Restarting your true dark With mismatched animal parts Cannibal starved, natural Death is just the start” Feels very like- trying to convince them that it's gonna be fine and whatever they're going to do to star!sherb will all be fine (maybe they're like- cyborg? or along this song maybe some funky alien things? which could maybe also add to the powers idea that I've slightly squashed) and the chorus telling someone to not be afraid feels very “someone trying to convince someone else this group / these people are good and this is completely normal and ethical :)” also this - “With every draw I paint a picture Perfect murder scene But if these mortuary walls could talk We both know that they’d scream Hindsight is the only judge and jury that I need” feels very like- their story has *something* to do with death of some kind, be that literal or like- something else I'm not sure we can figure out. also the bridge talks about control and being a “cog” and. yeah I think their story perhaps also has something to do with control . I feel like those are the two major vibes I get. (Add the toxic ex idea to that? mmmmmm)

-> [Cavalryman]

-> something about being a soldier something about doing people's dirty work something about being apart of a slightly evil group something something. I don't have big brain worms about this song its just very big vibes honestly. also a lot of stuff about death yet again? like I feel like this could perhaps be a big part of their story… just guessing here though who knows… /silly

-> [Do What I Gotta]

-> morally grey bitch <3 /pos - also, seems like they might be on their own now perhaps? not apart of a group anymore - something like they left it for something better? (being morally grey still <3) anyway. “This city got issues lucky for us though I'm a one man armada” something about them trying to fix everything on their own (points back to that idea in Sinners of “I must be good for something” perhaps?) “I'm a bottle half full cause I got a good feeling that this world will truly start healing long as I do my part and keep a head start” very funky vibes going on here - seems a but more optimistic than the previous songs seemed? maybe they're trying to change their ways (albeit still in a definitely morally grey kinda way) or something like that so they can reverse any harm they could've done? “Imma do what's best if I get knocked down i'll start from the bottom” something about how they're willing to start all over if they get knocked off wherever they are? thyre *willing* to start over and still climb their way back up to the top. and then the . “count your days, I don't care what city you stay, I don't care what path you walk, the fact that you walks enough to get slain” Oh so like they're definitely killing people . so like regardless of what they did before they're probably definitely killing people still- “”we are your friends, we're in your crew, we are like you,” or that what they say” so maybe they're killing the people they used to associate with question mark? “Your choice is easy just pick a side but pick the wrong one and you'll probably die” funky funky funky for sure guys . normal

-> [Leave Me Alone]

-> puts my fingers together . toxic ex makes an appearance perhaps . I dunno something about this song in combination with Rats (and also Bones a little) is giving very toxic ex vibes and also probably like- their past group too but. lemme toxic ex truth here for a little bit please <3 “you took the money but the money couldn't buy a friend” points, there was a reference to money in rats and it was In a very oh this person wants this but I won't give it to them and this also maybe has that kinda vibes. also the whole just . leave me alone idea . toxic maybe kinda controlling vibes from rats and bones - it's not a *long* stretch to assume they might be after star!sherb? “The devil that you is better than the devil that you don't” perhaps like- maybe star!sherb not wanting to hurt whoever after them despite everything (the devil they know being the person after them, and the devil they don't being star!sherb? something about how star!sherb definitely is like . okay with murder-) “go fly a kite until your tangled in the hanging tree” Well that's a way to tell someone to kill themself- okay no for real something about how maybe in this case star!sherb doesn't want to get their hands dirty? and they want someone else, or even the person after them, to do it themself as opposed to otherwise (if we go toxic ex situation, something about still feeling things for them despite everything?)

uhhhhhhhh, I think that's all. word count on all of that is like two thousand words . thought that'd be shorter guess I'm just too much of a loser for that. anyway I have brainworms about starbound!sherb I hope that's clear 🧍‍♂️

[strangecreaturewrites]

mickey barnes x f/gn!reader ⊹ after your life is upended, you move to a new city to start over. you take a job at the first place that will hire you, which just so happens to be a dubious little bakery owned by two men named timo and mickey. pre-canon au. (18+) nothing crazy here, but it will be nsfw if i write more in the future. ( this fic was built off of some ideas i wrote down in my notes app over the past couple weeks, and i wasn’t sure if i wanted to develop it into something more. i could totally spin this out into something so much larger, i have several ideas for it, but i already have too many wips at the moment >.< ----- divider by saradika-graphics )

You knew the business was going to fail as soon as you set foot in the building. The place used to be a bakery, so it looked the part of a macaron shop, with its faded sea-foam green wallpaper and white counters and tables. But it lacked one crucial element: demand. No one even glanced at the storefront as they walked past, a detail you immediately picked up on during your interview.

But you needed the work, so you took the black T-shirt that would be part of your uniform and shook hands with your new employer, a man around your age named Timo. His business partner wasn’t around on your first day, but it wasn’t too long before you met him, too.

Mickey Barnes. You were obsessed from the moment you saw him, but not in the usual way. He was an awkward man, clumsy and self-conscious, but he was kind to you and easy to talk to. He had a pretty face, an unflattering haircut, and an earnest sort of demeanor you hadn’t seen in a long time, especially since you moved to the city. He was sweet, much sweeter than a lot of guys you’ve known. This sweetness pulled you in, made your heart flutter, made you curious — it even made it easier to show up for work most days, knowing you'd get to see him.

Personality-wise, your two bosses were like night and day. Timo was charismatic, witty, a people-person. A bit of a liar, a bit selfish. You didn’t trusted him too much, and working for him was… well, let’s just say, you had to deal with some dumb shit. He paid you in cash, and usually only after you hounded him for it.

While Timo stayed in the manager’s office all day doing who knows what, Mickey would stand behind the counter with you and talk. When a rare customer came in to buy something, he would box up their macarons while you rang them up.

You only worked there for a month, but in that short time, you got to know him well. You learned his favorite movies, the music he liked to listen to, the jokes that made him laugh. You knew he had no family, no relationships, no plans for more than what he already had in this phase of his life. You became familiar with the deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes when you told him he looked good, and you knew his ears would turn red if you pointed out when a customer was checking him out.

It was no time before you found yourself thinking about him in your bed at night, spinning fantasy after fantasy. Eventually, nearly every hour of the day was consumed by thoughts of him. He was just too cute. You imagined pushing your flirtations farther, wondering what he would do or say if you pressed his buttons enough. He didn't seem shy — just awkward.

Was he a virgin? No, no, you didn't think so. You wanted to ask him...

On the flip side, you were shocked by yourself! It never used to be this hard, keeping things professional, especially with your former bosses. (Then again, you've never been this attracted to someone you've worked for before.) You tried not to cross too many boundaries, but it was just too fun to tease him. Even when he seemed embarrassed, he laughed right along with you, so why stop? It made you feel good to have his attention, and he seemed flattered by the attention you gave him.

There were some times when you thought he was a little too easygoing, though. You quickly picked up on the odd dynamic between Timo and Mickey; they were friends, roommates, and the co-owners of this failing bakery, and it was clear to see who called the shots and who fell in line regardless of whether or not those decisions made sense. You often defended Mickey from his friend’s snide comments, but half the time he didn’t seem to care that he was being insulted. He would tell you not to worry about it, smiling his good-natured smile and waving his hand dismissively.

You wondered if Mickey was really unbothered, or if there was something he wasn’t letting you see.

The day you decided to quit, you told Mickey first. It was the end of your shift, the pink-purple sunset reflecting off the shop windows across the street. You just finished cleaning out the display case and boxing up the cookies that couldn’t be saved for the next day. Timo was in his office, and Mickey had just finished sweeping the pristine floors.

You thought he might panic and beg you to stay — you even hoped he might tell you he’d miss you too much for you to leave, or ask if there was a way he could see you outside of this place — but he just nodded, scrunching up his nose in a wince.

“Okay. That makes sense,” he said, almost as if he was apologizing to you. “I wouldn’t wanna stay either if I were you.”

You gave him a confused look. “You own the place, you could close shop and leave anytime you wanted.”

“Ah, well…” A blush crept across his face as he stumbled over his words. “It’s a little more complicated than that, with money, and- and we don’t exactly, uh- ‘own it,’” he stammered out, bringing his hands up to air-quote the last couple of words. You continued to stare at him, waiting for him to explain further, until he waved his hand, as if batting the prickly topic away. “Doesn’t matter. What I’m saying is, you have so many more opportunities. I don’t know why you applied here in the first place.”

“I needed a job,” you replied curtly, looking away from him. Why you moved away from your small town to the city, why you had to find work so quickly — it was a sensitive subject for you.

Thankfully, Mickey seemed to pick up on your discomfort.

After a tense pause, he cleared his throat, then asked, “What’ll you do next?”

You laughed humorlessly, pulling yourself up to sit on the counter by the register. He took a few steps closer, resting his hand on the edge of the counter near your knee.

So close… It’s been too long since you’ve felt anyone’s skin against yours, and he has been on your mind so much lately. You imagined sliding your hand over his as you answered him.

“Applications are supposed to be opening up soon for that expedition Kenneth Marshall is attempting." You sneered a bit as you said the politician's name, causing Mickey to laugh. “I’m gonna live on what’s left of my savings ’til then, and I’ll see if I can hitch a ride on that.”

“Doing what?”

“I was a paramedic before I started working here. I was a pharm tech before that.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a sly smile curling at the corners of your lips. “You think they’ll need medics in space?”

“Definitely,” he replied, sounding a little awed, smiling that adorable smile of his. “They’ll be lucky to have you.”

You hummed, warmth blooming in your chest. Sometimes, his sincerity made you ache. You decided to make your move and put your hand on his, squeezing it gently. You told yourself it was just a way of saying thank you, even as your thumb slowly brushed his wrist, back and forth, over and over. The tips of his ears started turning pink, his wide eyes locked on your hands, and it made you felt powerful.

“Can I be honest with you? Because you’re a good guy and I worry about you.” When he nodded, you continued, “This place isn’t gonna last, Mickey. You need to get out of here, do something else.”

He rolled his eyes, grinning a little. “Like what?”

“Literally anything else. You could… I don’t know…”

He nudged your leg with his knee, his grin growing wider. “See? That’s the problem, I don't know either.” For a moment, he looked off toward the window, lost in thought. Then he shook his head. “Nah. I’m gonna stick this out with Timo. He’s my good buddy, I trust him.”

You scoffed. “Whatever you say.”

“He’s good to me,” he replied defensively, his brows furrowing. You couldn’t help but stare at his lips, set in a little, almost pouty frown. You thought about bringing your hands to his face, pulling him closer, when the electronic doorbell chimed.

Quickly, you leapt off the counter and whipped around to see two women lingering in the doorway. By their looks, they were in their early twenties, wearing short club dresses and heavy make-up. They were bright-eyed and beautiful, giggling between each other and looking around the mostly empty room. They seemed hesitant to come inside, making eye contact with you as if they were waiting on some instructions.

“Oh, hey, sorry, we’re closing in-” Mickey looked down at his watch.

In a jarring bit of motion-and-sound, Timo breezed through the swinging kitchen doors, past the counter, toward the women. “Don’t worry, Mick, they’re here for me.” 

“Oh, okay,” Mickey said faintly, startled.

You both watched Timo nestle between the women, his arms around their shoulders. Then, as if on cue, he winced dramatically and said, “Damn, I forgot to tell you, man. I need the apartment for the night. You know, company and all. You understand.”

Mickey blinked, giving a little shake of his head, then corrected himself. “Right. Yeah. That’s fine, I’ll figure somethin’-”

The trio were already turning to leave as Mickey spoke, Timo yelling over his shoulder, his voice overlapping Mickey’s, “Hell yeah, man, you’re the best. See ya tomorrow, Mick! And uh, you too…”

Even after a month, he still didn’t remember your name. Why are you not surprised?

“Asshole,” you snarled, watching the trio strut past the window. You turned to Mickey, who still looked a little baffled. “Do you have somewhere to go?”

He shrugged. “Nah, but it’s not a big deal. Usually I just walk around for a few hours, then I sneak in at around two or three. Hell, I can sleep here if I gotta.”

You stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to say he was joking. When he only stared back, his blue eyes so full of that earnestness you’d grown to associate with only him, you grabbed the boxes of extra macarons and told him, “You’re coming home with me.”

“Oh! Uh-”

“Hush. Come. Now.”

He scrambled to keep up with you, barely remembering to lock up in his haste. You smirked, feeling that private sense of power once again. But there was also excitement — finally, you would get to have him all to yourself.

( i planned a sex scene for this, but i tragically lost focus and i don't even know if this would be interesting to anyone, so if you want to see more, please tell me! i want to write so much more for this, but i am not a self-sustaining machine, lmaoooo )

[drownedinlavender]

what are your fav domestic hcs for your fav sp ships !!! 🫢

Aksnzkzmzkkz omg volta, this is SUCH a cute ask!! This was getting rather long so I had to stop myself from brainstorming more akjssknskzmz

Kyman:

They're MAD shit-talkers. They bond over talking shit about their neighbors while they do chores together like folding the laundry or washing the dishes.

Cartman loves to use pet names like “babe” and “honey” while Kyle rarely ever addresses Eric by anything other than his last name. Kyle has a harder time expressing affection through words and blushes whenever he occasionally calls Eric by his first name.

They're rather touchy feely and are always seen touching each other whether it's holding hands or having an arm around the other.

They're both jealous lovers. Cartman can create rather elaborate schemes if he ever feels like someone is getting too close to Kyle. The schemes never work, Kyle ends up having to clean up Cartman's mess, and he reassures Eric about his position in his life. Rinse-repeat, Cartman never learns lol.

I like to imagine them as a power couple. Eric being a successful CEO and Kyle being an environmental lawyer. I think they'd enjoy being childless until they got bored and decide to adopt.

Cartman would have a hard time settling into the role of father since he didn't have many fatherly role models growing up, but it would be a rather healing experience for him.

They bicker a lot and constantly drag someone else into it, feeling like they need a third perspective (not because they care what the third perspective thinks, but because they want to be told that they're right to rub it in the other's face). They each hate being wrong and proving the other wrong can get them into all sorts of trouble. However, at the end of the day, they wouldn't have it any other way. They each would feel like life would be boring without the other.

Stendy:

My personal favorite headcanon for Stendy is that they separate during college since Wendy studies in a top notch, Ivy League University while Stan feels like he's falling behind and stays in Colorado. They reconnect years later in adulthood and get married.

Both Stan and Wendy would have careers while they raise children. The kids’ grandparents would be very helpful when it comes to babysitting.

I feel like Wendy would mostly run the home while Stan would be the type of dad that would say stuff like, “did you ask your mom?” and, “what did your mom say? Did she say it's okay?” It would be very operant who has the final word and Stan wouldn't have it any other way lol

Stan would be the kind of husband to, at the end of the day, always rub Wendy's back or feet as a sign of love, care, and appreciation for all her hard work.

Stolkien:

Stan takes a break from work to be a stay at home parent for a year or two while Tolkien makes bank. Stan is a loving, doting father who tends to be very lax with rules while Tolkien is a bit stricter but still incredibly loving, welcoming, and reliable.

They'd both be the type of adults their kids could rely on and go to for help.

Their favorite date night activity would be cooking a fancy dinner together at home and having a game night with wine.

They'd be great at hosting small gatherings and would genuinely enjoy doing so.

Bunny:

They'd be such a power couple. Leopold funding Kenny's projects with the huge amount of money he made investing in bitcoin and selling NFTs lol

Leopold and Kenny would be very supporting of one another, always encouraging of their partner’s next endeavor.

I like to imagine Bunny fostering kids, helping them get an education and giving them the support they need

I think they'd both fund many charities concentrating on disadvantaged children. They'd be philanthropists trying to build a better future for kids in need.

[bodyintheabyssy]

The One Where Ravi Calls Out The Bullshit

The next shift Buck looks rough , like he has not been sleeping. Which should not be the case unless something went south after he left him with Tommy.

Buck keeps zoning out in downtime, and glaring at Ravi. He thinks it is intentional.

Chimney of course picks up on it. “Buck, leave Ravi alone. He probably didn’t do anything , unless he like puked on you the other night or something.”

“Yeah something.” Buck mumbles.

Ravi crosses his arms and goes over to them. “I guess you are blaming me for a bad night? When you dragged me out and was being a drunk sap?”

“Whoa!” Chimney holds his hands up, “What happened?”

Buck frowns, “Yeah I guess I am. Sure I had a few drinks but you dragged Tommy over, knowing how much I am still hurt over the breakup.”

Hen winces, Chimney shakes his head , “Oh Ravi. Matchmaking isn’t for everyone, you need to do it under better circumstances, and some grace.”

“I wasn’t trying to match make ; I just wanted a break from Buck.”

Buck frowns, “Well fuck me for trying to make new friends.”

Ravi sighs, “That is the problem! You weren’t trying to be my friend! You talked all night about how much you miss your best friend! Yes , Eddie is gone and I am sure that sucks for all of you. Imagine how I feel as his shift replacement! Even Bobby called me Eddie ! I am not Eddie and I am not trying to be!

You never wanted to ‘hang out’ before in all the years we have worked together. So yeah I didn’t want to hear anymore about Eddie and hang out with you when I could be with my actual friends.”

That makes everyone lapse into silence. “I am sorry Ravi. You are right, I have not been a good friend to you.”

Ravi sits down, “Buck, you don’t have to be my new friend. You just need to find a work-life balance. Join a book club, start a new hobby, try out new groups. Make friends that are separate from your job.”

All three of them loom at him like he is asking for something crazy.

“My god you people are helpless. You can have a life outside of your co-workers and romantic partners. It is possible. I am very good at it, many people have social circles outside of work. You all have just woven yourself into a concerning co-dependent web of work friends that attract danger. Do you guys have any friends outside of work? That you still keep in contact with?”

“Damn Ravi.. with the cold hard truth.” Chimney sighs.

Bobby comes into the room, “Ravi, I apologize that we have not been considerate of your feelings into this transition and made fitting in hard. I am sorry we made you feel excluded. I will do better to try to connect with other team members going forward.”

Ravi nods, “With all respect captain, I don't really want to be a part of your work family. I am afraid if I do get initiated my life will get considerably worse, I don’t want that unpredictable energy in my life.”

Chimney laughs, “Are we that bad?!”

“How many times have you almost died, each?” Ravi responds.

“That is irrelevant.” Chimney mumbles.

Ravi looks at Buck who is deep in thought, “Look I get it, making new friends is hard and scary but you are going to be fine once you get used to it. I am sorry things didn’t work out with Tommy the other night but that had nothing to do with me. You could have left, or talked things over when you weren’t drunk.”

Buck nods, “Thanks Ravi I needed that reality check.”

Hen then nods, “We appreciate you Ravi.”

“We need someone to call us on our bullshit. How are you wiser than us?” Chimney smiles.

“I was surrounded by more adults than kids my own age growing up.” Ravi shrugs.

Chimney nods, then looks to Buck, “Wait, what happened with Tommy?”

Buck groans and takes another sip of coffee.

Later on before their shift is over Buck comes to talk to Ravi.

“Look man, I am really sorry. I have been thinking about how I acted abd it was not cool. I didn’t really listen to your interests and was not very present as a friend. Believe it or not I don’t make friends easily. I feel like I have to act cooler than I am . I can get pushy and clingy.”

“It is all good. Really.” Ravi smiles.

“You did make me realize that even though the firehouse feels like family , I really have not branched out. But I am going to sound ridiculous,” He pauses, “How do I start? Everyone my age is married with kids , have friends from childhood and college or doing adult shit.” Buck laughs.

Ravi nods, “It isn’t a personal failing Buck. A lot of people have trouble making new friends as adults. Especially finding people you don’t see everyday like work friends. You just gotta put yourself out there.”

Buck sighs, “Out where exactly?”

Ravi chuckles, “You have interests right? Maybe try looking up groups online that meet in person. Something like pickup basketball that you actually enjoy. You like learning stuff right? It is old school but maybe see what adult events the library has to see what kind of stuff you are looking for.”

“That is really helpful. Thanks. How did you get so good at this?” Buck smiles.

Ravi pauses a minute, “I missed out on so much as a kid. I was in and out of school for treatments, and couldn’t do sports. I couldn’t keep up with my classmates, so I stopped trying to. I found out what I like and spent a lot of time playing games , watching movies or fucking around online. Then I started looking for people who liked the same stuff and just kept going to events. I warn you it can be awkward as hell. Like going to a bar where everyone already knows each other or has a date. Even just showing up is better than nothing. There may be social groups for a lot of stuff online too. It is LA ! People do a lot of weird shit here.” Ravi laughs.

“Thanks man. You are a good guy.” Buck pats his shoulder.

“No problem. Good Luck out there & have a good weekend.” Ravi smiles.