#i have so much love for you all it doesn't fit in my heart. it pours out and i am left no choice but to scream it from the top of my lungs

[tojislibrvry]

★ ︵ @ nanami / reader , sūggestıve , jealōusý , māsōchısm

nanami and you have been going out for a few months, and you don't think you've ever been as happy as you are right now. nanami is everything you can ask for, he buys you anything you look at, kisses you like his life depends on it and loves you like you are his religion.

but he also gets so jealous very easily

it's not that he doesn't trust you, not that he thinks you are the kind to stray, he just hates how people look at you, like you are theirs...

it was an office event, and of course nanami invited you as his plus one. making sure he got you the prettiest red dress ever, the way it hugged your body, had him so fucking hard. it was quite modest, the only skin revealed was your legs,,, but anything on you, or nothing on you (doesn't really matter) was enough to make him rock hard in his tailored pants.

"oooh- is this nanami's pretty girlfriend?" a man sauntered up to the both of you, dressed in an expensive white suit to match his hair.

you recognised him, how could you not? this was the very same coworker that nanami would complain to you about during dinner.

"gojo," his voice comes out a little strained, "yes, this is my girlfriend, you might recognise her of course, she interned in our company a while ago." kento answers, hand on your waist pulling you closer.

"awww, isn't she absolutely gorgeous, can't believe nanami got his hands on you before me." he giggles, eyes glimmering with a mischievous glint.

"i'm lucky she decided to go out with me." nanami forces a smile, his grip on your waist becoming tighter.

you gasp and giggle, "nooo... im the lucky one, kento is so kind to me," you say looking fondly at him.

you continue, "oh and thank you so much gojo! you look quite nice yourself." you return the compliment.

suddenly someone calls out to nanami, a fellow coworker and he gets whisked away leaving you all alone with gojo. he smiles like a cheshire cat, the gears in his brain working harder. he looks at nanami from where he is, making steady eye contact as he begins to talk to you.

he tells you about how nanami was actually his junior in high school and how he was really into the emo subculture then, recounting stories of young nanami that made you laugh until there were tears in your eyes. he fishes his phone out to show you a picture, teen nanami brooding and scrawny, hair swept to the side.

of course to you, you were just talking to gojo about your shared love for nanami. but to him, the one way out of earshot to understand the context of your giggling, the green fire of jealousy made its way to his heart.

he slowly makes his way over to you, pulling you away from gojo and hands travelling to your hip. you were still laughing, too far gone to notice the expression on his face.

"what's got you so giggly? hm?" he asks, fingers pinching your thigh. it's not really painful , almost like an ant biting. but you are the kind to bruise easily, red blooming the minute his fingers pull apart.

you are immediately pulled out of your laughing fit, eyes blown wide looking up to nanami. it's almost like he had conditioned you, a little touch to your pretty thighs and you were ready to cum in your little thong.

"o-oh! gojo was just showing me pictures..." you mumble, embarrassed by the heated stare nanami was giving you. you felt so small under his gaze. your tongue comes out to wet your lips, to ease the way your throat has dried up.

gojo stands still in front of the both of you, smirking as he sees the tension build. he knew very well what he was doing. rolling his eyes and happy that once again he managed to piss nanami off, he walks away to the bar.

"i think it's high time we go home, you look needy." nanami rasps out, the hand on your thigh travelling upto your ass and staying there. you nod, words unable to string themselves together.

nanami sighs, eyes darkening and his smile dropping as he guides you towards the exit.

"when we are home, i'm going to teach you to use your words."

[gtgbabie0]

Could you do VI with an insecure fem! reader? Like she walks in on the reader crying and staring at herself in the mirror wondering why she can’t be skinny and attractive like the other girls she sees. It’s just something I struggle with and if you can’t do it I totally understand!!

Thank you. 🖤

⋆⁺ ✮⋆⁺ Vi x Reader

Synopsis: {You’re feeling a little insecure about your body and Vi makes sure you know just how much she loves your curves} AN: Hope this is okay my love <3

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Maybe it was the mirror, the bathroom lighting, the dress that seemed to hug at all the wrong places… or perhaps it was just you. It was a horrible feeling that you couldn’t shake. No matter what you tried to tell yourself or what position you took in front of the full-body mirror, your reflection was starting to make you feel nauseous. Coupled with the already present nerves of this stupid New Year’s party you and Vi were meant to be attending, it was awful.

The familiar tightness seizes through your chest and you can’t stop the tears that begin to prick at your eyes as you tug at the fabric of the dress as if you were trying to mould yourself into a different shape. You were so caught up you didn’t even hear Vi rushing up the stairs calling out your name— “Damn baby-” her words immediately die on her tongue as she takes in your tearful expression.

She doesn't waste a moment, rushing over to you, her rough palms cupping your cheeks, worried eyes scanning over your face. “Whoa, hey… hey, what happened?” Her tone is so sickeningly sweet that you can’t push her away even if the embarrassment that curdles through your body tells you to.

“Mm, nothin’ I’m just being silly.” You huff, sniffling as you wipe your wet cheeks with the back of your hand— turning your head to look away from her concerned gaze.

Vi cups your chin with her thumb and index finger, making you look back at her. “Don’t give me that, it ain’t silly if it’s makin’ you cry, baby.” She replies firmly, brows knitted together.

The words are stuck in the back of your throat and the only thing you can manage to get out is a tiny whimper, a noise of discontent as she catches a stray tear with her knuckle. It breaks her heart to see you like this, so coiled up with emotions that you can’t even communicate with her.

“Come on sweetness, talk to me please?” She prompts gently, ducking her head slightly to catch your teary gaze. Your fingers curl around her wrists to keep her hand against the side of your face, enjoying the warmth, the roughness of her palms somewhat grounding you from completely spiralling into a breakdown.

You sigh softly, biting down on the inside of your bottom lip and she watches your eyes flicker over to the mirror and then back up to her with a shuddering breath— then the realisation hits her and her stomach drops, shaking her head immediately as if she could read your thoughts.

“Oh, that's what's got you all up in knots? c’mere… come here.” Her hands are dropping to your hips, trying to guide you back over to the mirror.

“No Vi, don’t… I don’t—” Despite your protests, she turns you around, hands squeezing at your hips, making you face the reflection as she stands behind you, chin hooked over your shoulder.

Her hands smooth over your hips, up along your waist to interlace her fingers over your soft tummy that was shown off by the dress you were wearing— damn if Vi didn’t think you were absolutely drop-dead gorgeous in anything that fitted your curvy figure.

“What have I told ya, huh?” Her voice rumbles softly against your back, her thumb brushing over your abdomen as she lets her eyes slowly drink in the sight of you right up against her, just where you belong.

You huff in response to her words, tipping your head backwards against her shoulder with a small frown— lips pursed out in a small pout. “I don’t feel pretty. I’m fat and pudgy, and this dress isn’t flattering.”

The more you speak the more pissed off she is, not directly at you— never, just in general because how the fuck can you not see just how much of a complete knockout you are?

“Bullshit—” she huffs, pressing a kiss to the soft curve of your jaw with a small frown. “That’s all bullshit baby, you look so damm sexy in this.” Her lips brush along your neck as she talks, meeting your gaze through the mirror with a wink.

“I’m still pudgy.” You huff, glancing down at her hands that are splayed across your tummy.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, I love my girl just the way she is— pudge and all.” She promises, dropping a kiss against your shoulder. “You got more on ya to love, more to hold on to…” she continues, the tip of her nose running along your jaw as she nuzzles into the side of your neck. “… s’all soft and warm, you’re perfect, my perfect girl.” you hate how much your stomach flutters at her words, the way she smirks against your pulse point.

Her hands smooth across your stomach to rest over your hips, squeezing the fat lovingly as her eyes flicker across your curves then back up to your face to catch your gaze.

“Yeah?” She coos, chin propped up on your shoulder.

“Mhm, yeah… m’sorry,” The words are barely above a whisper and if Vi wasn’t practically hanging off of you she would’ve missed them.

“Don’t apologise gorgeous, just means I get to kiss it all better…” her caring smile turns into a cocky smirk and her hands are mapping over your curves and dips of your form, feeling you up as she presses big wet kisses all over your face and jaw— down to your neck and over your shoulders whispering sweet nothings into your skin until your all wide smiles and happy giggles.

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[bullet-prooflove]

"Baby, that red dress brings me to my knees" for Rip, perhaps? ❤

Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @alisbackalleybbq @mia1653 @privatetruths

References to John Dutton's storyline.

Companion piece to:

Thrill of the Chase (NSFW) - Rip has always loved the thrill of the chase.

 If You Want Me, You Can Have Me - They say that Rip Wheeler doesn't have a heart.

Stay Tonight - Rip asks to stay the night.

Use Your Words (NSFW) - Rip teases you.

Clover - Rip comforts you.

The Vet - Rip comes face to face with a nightmare.

The Train Station - Rip takes you to the train station.

The Good & The Bad - Rip gives you every single piece of himself.

Nightmares - Rip struggles in the aftermath of Gina's attack.

Feral - Rip gets a little protective after what happened with the Becks.

Country Dress - Date night with Rip is interrupted when you get into a fight at the bar.

There’s a white dress laid out on the bed, the pretty lace contrasts against the dark bedding as your fingers run over the soft fabric.  The edges of your mouth tip up into a smile because you know that Rip has left this here for you, that he fumbled his way into that store in town so that he could replace the one you lost the other night in that scuffle at the bar.

You can’t express how much that means to you especially from the man who once told you he’d rather be kicked to death by a horse than venture inside that boutique.

 “You should try it on.” Rip murmurs and you tilt your head up to see him leaning against the door frame, his dark eyes fixed on you.

Your cheeks color under the heat in his gaze as you remove your clothing. Your shirt goes first, then the jeans until all that’s left is the white cotton underwear you pulled on his morning. He bites his lower lip, his gaze drinking in the dark pebbling of your nipples before he clears his throat.

“Jen honey, if you could put on that dress I’d be very much obliged.” He says once more again, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

You do as he requests, stepping into the gown, drawing it up your hips. It fits like a dream, hugging the contours of your body, the skirt flouncing just a little at the hips.

“It’s perfect.” You proclaim and he gives you that look as he strides towards you, his large hands comparing your waist.

“Perfect enough for a wedding?” He asks you, his voice low and rough. “Perfect enough for us to get married today?”

“Was that what you wanted to talk about the other night before the fight?” You say quietly as your fingers lace at the back of his neck, threading through his closely cropped curls.

It’s the conversation with John Dutton that’s prompted this, the discussion of lost time and a love that could be extinguished at any moment. There isn’t much time left for Lou Reeves but there is for you and him.

“I didn’t a ring when I asked you the first time but I do now.” He tells you, his nose nuzzling against yours. “John can deliver the ceremony in that little place you like by the stream at sunset. Lloyd and Ryan can step in as witnesses…”

“Travis and Gina.” You say quietly as you look into his eyes. “The both of them need to be there too.”

“I can make that happen.” Rip murmurs as he looks into your eyes, that handsome smile crossing his features. “So honey are we gonna do this?”

“Yes Rip.” You say, reaching up on tiptoes and kissing his mouth. “We certainly are.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[letmereedusyou]

i'm not yours

Daryl Dixon x fem reader

summary: Daryl is in a relationship with Leah (they live in Alexandria together, so completely different plot to what TWD sold us), and you have been friends forever now. He doesn't know but you love him and you finally decide to tell him.

warnings: some swearing, but nothing too crazy

A/N: this one broke my heart, I was listening to Conan Gray "Yours" and I thought it would be a great idea. Don't ask why Leah, it just fits the story the most and it's easier to write about someone who you actually dislike a little than someone like my sweet precious Connie. I know Daryl wouldn't be like that in any way, shape or form, but I wanted to write something that has a bit of a sad ending. Welp, here we are.

Knock knock knock.

The sound of it echoed through your house, and it made you jump in your place at the desk, where you were writing in your journal. You knew exactly who it was. You promised Daryl you will go with him for a scavenging trip, as you were his best friend, but also a real good scavenger. You knew you couldn't deny him when he asked you two days ago, and even if it means enduring your stupid heart beating fast every time you were around him.

Truth was, you were in love with Daryl for quite some time now. You couldn't remember when exactly it happened. It felt like day by day you heart was aching to be more to him. More than just a friend. To be able to touch him, kiss him, feel him against you, not only as a friend... but as something deeper.

You were going to tell him a few months back, but then he met Leah and everything changed. You could see how he looked at her. Even though his face did not let it show, his eyes told you that he was attracted to her. Hell, you knew way before he admitted to it. And then, stupidly, you pushed him to ask her out but he only gave you a look of "do not even go there" and waved his hand at you. It wasn't long after that, Leah decided to make a move herself. She asked him out and he said yes. Of course, he said yes. He was silently yearning for her since she showed up in Alexandria. It almost made you sick how much he was into her.

You tried to be happy for him, you really have. And a part of you is happy for him. He finally seems a bit more relaxed, smiles a little more, talks a little more. Leah had a good influence on him through the months - you couldn't deny that. But deep down, you wished you were the one who was making him that happy, that much more open.

With a sigh, you closed your journal and got up, making your way to the doors. You opened them, only to be greeted with a slight smile from Daryl and a nod. "Hey," he said. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," you say and you looked him up and down. He was wearing a weird, cape like thing. "The hell are you wearing?" you ask him, putting on your own jacket.

"A poncho," he says without missing a beat. He looked down at it and brushed an invisible fluff off it. "Why?"

"A poncho?" you raised you eyebrow, your lips curl into a smirk.

"Yes, a poncho," he says, rolling his eyes. "What's wrong with a poncho?"

"Nothing," you shake your head. "I just didn't take you as a poncho guy."

"Leah made it for me and it's quite warm," he shrugs his shoulders and looks at you with a slight smile. Of course, you thought to yourself, physically wanting to roll your eyes at it, but your smirk never falters. "I'll ask her to make you one. We'll both look like Robin Hood in the woods." You snort with laughter, stepping out of the house and following him to the gates.

Your heart was already thumping in your chest and it's only been mere minutes since you've been close to him. Your palms were sweaty. All you could think about was wrapping your arms around him and never letting him go. You knew you couldn't, but it was getting increasingly harder to be around him, knowing that him and Leah are playing house and being happy together.

If it isn't clear yet, you hate Leah. Pretty much everyone disliked her in Alexandria, but you were hundred percent sure you hated her most. Not because she was with Daryl, but she was just... so... bland. So boring. She had nothing going on for herself, she cries more than anyone you know, but yet somehow Daryl likes her? You found it strange. You found her strange. But you guessed that maybe she is only ever so bland in front of people, and she might be a bit more fun behind closed doors.

"Where are we going today?" you ask Daryl once you were out the gates, sounding casual and normal as always.

"I found some places, a couple miles out west and I wanted to check them out and see what we could find," he says, looking forwards. "We're running low on some medical supplies."

"Righto," you nod, focusing on the surroundings.

You walked and Daryl talked about Leah, non stop, like he didn't have any other topics to talk about with you. It was all 'Leah this... Leah that' and it really pissed you off, even though you didn't show it. You missed your usual banter and teasing. You missed the connection you formed over the years of friendship. Daryl quietens for a second before he speaks again.

"You should give Leah a chance, you know?"

"Kinda hard to give a chance to someone who has everything you want," you murmur.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

You stop in your tracks and your eyed widen realising that you said it out loud, instead of in your head. You turn to Daryl, who also stopped walking, and were looking at you with a raised eyebrow. You felt like your heart surely will jump out of your chest, in panic, under his questioning gaze.

"Nothing," you say, shaking your head.

"No, it's clearly something," Daryl presses and steps closer to you. "Why do you hate Leah so much? She's a really good person. If only..."

"Dear God, do you have anything else to talk about anymore?!" you roar, slinging your hands up in frustration. "I am so fucking sick of hearing you talk about her!"

"She's my..."

"Yeah, she's your girlfriend, got it!" you scoffed, the irritation building up inside of you. "You won't let me forget for even a minute!"

"What's gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?" he asks, looking you up and down, so clueless that it makes you blood boil and your face turns red. You clench your fists until your knuckles turn white.

The next words come out of your mouth with anger, frustration, so much fucking annoyance that you weren't able to stop them.

"Because I fucking love you! Because Leah gets to have you every single day of the week, while I have to watch you two from the side lines, kissing and holding each other and it makes me fucking jealous. Because I was supposed to be that person to you! Me!"

Daryl's eyes widen at your confession, and you keep looking at him. You swallowed hard, the realisation of what you just said finally hitting you and you close your eyes for a minute, trying to steady your breath. Everything seems to slow down around you, like someone switched the world to slow motion setting. Your body freezes up in place and when you open your eyes again, you see Daryl standing there, frowning.

"What the fuck, Y/N?" he asks, crossing his arms on his chest, his muscles stretch and roll under his checkered shirt. "Why would you ever tell me that?"

"I didn't mean to," you say but then you shake your head catching yourself on a lie. "That is a lie. I meant to... way before the Leah bullshit. But I've always chickened out."

"Before Leah? Y/N... How long has this been going on? And why the hell you thought that now is the best time to tell me?" his voice is cold and unforgiving. "I thought we were friends."

"We are!" you say quickly. "Of course we are friends."

"But you love me," he says slowly. "And now I know. How am I supposed to treat you now?"

"Just like you did before all of this," you say and you take a step closer to him. "Nothing needs to change. We can just forget about it."

He instinctively takes a step back.

OUCH.

You look into his eyes, your eyes pleading and questioning, like you were trying to search for answers in his. You wanted him to say that it is fine and that he will just forget about it, but he doesn't. Instead, he's standing there, his hands squeezing on the crossbow, looking at you like you've just stabbed him or something. Confusion on his face tells you he doesn't know how to deal with this information, knowing his best friend loves him in a romantic type of way, not the friendly way.

"Please, Daryl," you say, your head swing down, between your shoulders. "I'm still your best friend..."

"Best friend?" he scoffs.

OUCH AGAIN.

"Yes... Am I not?" you ask quietly, feeling the sting of the tears at the back of your eyes as you pray to God not to break down in front of him.

"You were, until you fell in love with me," he says without skipping a beat and you feel like your heart is being ripped out your chest. "Do you really expect me to just forget about all of this, and continue to be friends with you?"

"What do you mean?" you ask, your voice really weak.

"How would I know you won't try and destroy my relationship? Try to put a wedge between me and Leah, so you can have me all to yourself?" he starts to pace around, his eyes still scanning you, nothing but coldness in them.

"I wouldn't," you whisper. "You happiness is important to me."

"I cannot be sure about that now, can I?" he huffs. "So what, you're okay with just being friends with me?" he look you dead in the eyes and you could've sworn your heart stopped beating for a few seconds.

No. I want more. You wanted to say, to scream, but you knew that it wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"I'm okay with being just friends with you," you say, looking down at the ground, your words lack conviction.

"You're lying," he calls you out.

"I am," you admit pretty quickly, knowing he could read you like a book.

He looks at you for awhile, before rubbing his face with his whole hand. You could see he was trying to process the information as best as he could, and you were afraid that you just made the biggest mistake of your life. That you were about to lose a friend, someone who has been there for you forever now, just because your stupid feelings.

You bite your lip, trying hard to keep your emotions in check, your eyes still stinging at the back. Daryl was pacing around again, not looking at you anymore. His face serious, more serious than you ever saw him be. He suddenly stops.

"I would never see you as something more than a friend," you hear him say and your whole body shivers with how cold and mean it sounded.

You look up to him. He's now standing in front of you, with his crossbow swung across his body, his hands crossed on his chest. His blue eyes - oh, those perfect blue eyes - are looking at you but there is nothing behind them. His jaw seems to be clenching hard, like he's trying not to yell and scream. You wouldn't blame him if he did, but you were glad that he wasn't. Because it would, for sure, make you curl into a ball and cry.

You swallow hard and nod to him, acknowledging the words he just said.

I would never see you as something more than a friend.

You knew it. You knew you'd never be his. Deep down you were aware of it, but your stupid aching heart thought that maybe, just maybe, he'd change his mind one day and he'd see you as more than a friend... It was a delusion, promptly followed by empty hope.

"I know," you manage to whisper to him, your eyes digging a hole in the ground before you. You were too embarrassed to look at him, now that he knows and he will always know. He will always have your words at the back of his head and, most likely, he'll never treat you the same way.

Your whole scavenging trip goes in an excruciating silence. You go through the buildings and you scavenge the most of it, before going back to Alexandria. There is no goodbye from Daryl when you step inside the gates. There is no "see ya later" or anything else that would indicate that your friendship is okay. Of course, your friendship wasn't okay. You just told him you loved him, and he said he'd never see you as more than a friend...

You watched him head to his house, greet Leah and pull her inside the house, closing the doors behind him. You think about what they were doing, but you quickly shake your head to get rid of these thoughts. Your eyes finally fill with tears as you head down the street, your head down, your hands in your pockets. You let it all out, stepping inside your house, sliding down the doors onto the floor and curling into a ball. It felt like you just lost a piece of yourself. Piece that was important, maybe too important.

Days go by, and Daryl stays away from you, you both slowly drift away from each other. It was clear he wasn't comfortable with being friends with someone who loved them more than that. It was clear that your friendship was ruined, and that it was your fault. When you passed by each other, there was no words exchanged. It was like two complete strangers, just living in the same community.

You remember how he made you smile, and laugh. You you'd always tease each other and banter. How you always find ways to annoy people around you. You remember how everything that you liked about your life, it was somehow connected to him. How hearing his name made you smile every single time because you knew that day spent with Daryl was going to be full of adventure and mischief which you loved.

But one day, hearing his name didn't make you smile anymore...

[intrasun]

Brutally Soft Lore #01

A lot is going on with my most recent (and first post back!) of Brutally Soft. It really is meant to be up to interruption, but I wanted to share what I was thinking symbolically with Wednesday's dream (for anyone interested in that kind of thing).

To start, I redid this post four times, trying to figure out the best way to tell the story. Although pretty cliche, I think this dream sequence was a good look into Wednesday's psyche.

If you're an anime fan, you'll see the obvious nod to Neon Genesis Evangelion. NGE is an allegory for loneliness and depression. Alongside the other religious imagery in this post, it was a fitting reference that encompasses Wednesday well.

Neither I nor Wednesday believe in a God. Rather I choose the ocean to represent a sort of godly entity. You could interrupt this as Wednesday praying to Mother Nature as a kind of God as well. Here is where you'll see the NGE inspiration. The crosses floating in the ocean are meant to, in this scene, imply that the ocean itself is representative of a God. I wanted it to look someone what ... punishing? Almost angry? Like her prayer will not be answered, or she feels like it isn't going to be. It's a hostile interaction.

In the picture of Wednesday crying, she's facing away from the sun and the reflection of the crosses is still behind her but now they are upside down. Almost like she is turning her back on God or has lost faith. You could also interpret this as Wednesday being somewhat "sinful" and that sinfulness even follows hers ie. it looming behind her. Although this post has nothing to do with faith (and Wednesday had none, to begin with), this really is just to show a loss of hope. I love how this came out and I hope people see this detail but if you didn't hopefully now you do!

Despite the sin references, I use the daylit scenes to represent good intentions. Here Wednesday is hanging her head before she breaks down, but I placed the sun here to represent a halo. She, although struggling with motherhood, is trying. She is a victim of hardship. The dark ocean scenes came to be more of how Wednesday views herself and her situation and the daylight scene represents more of how others see her. I didn't add Amelia to this post because it is about a mother and daughter, but you could imagine, in a way, she is the sun looking down on her brightly.

Oh, Drew. I always edit Drew with angel wings because I think she embodies pure good. She's a child, pure of heart. In Wednesday's life, she acts as an angel as well. But I won't get too much into that here. In a not-so-subtle way, I chose black wings. Not to say she's fallen but perhaps darkness could or has or will enveloped her. Alternatively, the all-black is a way to mourn Drew's childhood. In the last detail, Drew is looking at a raven (or maybe you saw a crow) a symbol for a bad omen, the one Wednesday is worried about bestowing onto Drew. This scene is during the day, in the same sky as at the beginning of the post. Although you could deduce that Wednesday is either cynical or broken, she has hope in the back of her mind (ie in the background) when she envisions her daughter.

The line "I pray that my daughter doesn't look like me, doesn't resemble me." I have always said that Wednesday not only doesn't, like her appearance but she'd hope Drew wouldn't look like her. If you've seen Drew, she looks a lot like Wednesday. The resemblance reminds Wednesday of herself as a child and she worries she'll also see Drew with the same pain.

I've always shown Wednesday to be stoic (almost to fault and a symptom of bad writing). That anger masks a lot of sadness, I believe anger is a symptom of deep sadness. This is Wednesday's mind, where it is not necessary to mask her emotions, there is no reason she should feel the shame of crying. In this space, she feels free to just let out how she feels, and that is by sobbing. I feel like this could make people sympathetic or view her as weak. Who knows! My goal isn't to make the reader sad (I want them to just feel how they feel) but to show Wednesday more honestly.

The line she says is derivative of a quote by Franz Kafka.

The text in yellow! As I am sure anyone could guess it is a song. It is Tell Me by Corbin. If you can take some somber music, Corbin is incredible. My favorite artist. The lyrics and who is saying them or who they are about are really up to the reader. It could read that it was a voice speaking to Wednesday, a more sympathetic voice than her own. I think you could think of Wednesday saying it to Drew. Even a voice like Amelia's or an omnipotent voice saying it to them both. It was very fitting and I wanted it to include it to provide an alternative perspective to the reader.

I spent a lot of time on this post and I am very proud of it. IDK if this new style of storytelling is going to translate to people. Hopefully, it does to someone! This is only the first post so I won't expect too much. I hope to one day get to a point where I can hear other people's interactions and theories on the story and characters. Till then! I'll be sharing mine here. Thank you for taking the to read this post.

[graysparrowao3]

2024 Writing Year in Review

Thank you @darkurgetrash for the tag! What a nice way to round of the year and usher in creativity for the new one. Some no pressure tags and an open invitation <3 @lizziemajestic @captainsigge @lostinforestbound @velocitross @alpydk

Words posted (on AO3, not including Tumblr posts): 156,191

Words unposted: Between the 4 WIPs ongoing, the total words unposted within drafts currently is 7,903. Huh. Not as much as I'd have guessed. Tragically, it appears I do have to actually write the damn things as they appear to not be writing themselves.

Total word count: 223,513

Fandoms: Baldur’s Gate 3. Specifically Rolan, Cal, & Lia and Rugan/Aradin centered, with a smattering of other people's Tavs/Durges and their love interests.

Highest Kudos: The Night at Last Light Inn, a Rolan/m!Tav one shot.

Highest One-Shot Hits: Also The Night at Last Light Inn lol. People like to see Rolan having a good time. It was also posted at the beginning of the year at a time with more activity in general.

New things I tried: The Rugan/Aradin stuff was genuinely supposed to be a one shot where I tried writing something far more angsty and explicit than I'd ever done before. I really enjoyed it, but did not like leaving angst without exploring the underlying root of destructive and painful behaviors and emotions and finding a way to resolve it. Knowing what I do irl, this tracks. Based on the characters I thought it might not be received well, so I'm very grateful to everyone who gave it a try and saw what I was trying to do with it and gave me the confidence to keep going, including the encouraging feedback from @octoberskiies @threerattsinatrenchcoat @fangbanger3000 @lizziemajestic @vera-king-hrfl

@crowwolf @faerie-with-a-knife @forget-me-maybe @lemonsrosesandlavender @benicemurphy amongst others <3 Without community it wouldn't exist at all.

And now I'm in so deep I can't see the light any more. Hooray!

Fic I spent the most time on: Technically the one that's been sitting unfinished since the start of the year is What if...Everything Went Wrong, but though The Northern Bastards is technically a series, it's been pretty all-consuming my life lately so I think it has to win.

Fic I spent the least time on: Probably Brew, love? It was just an idea that gave me a chuckle so I threw it out quickly, but I still think it's a fun little thing.

Favourite thing I wrote: The first half of the year it was The Elturian Prodigy, which is the Rolan, Cal, & Lia fic in my heart. I took some space from it after disheartening feedback as though I always want to grow this fic stuff is something I do because it brings me joy, so for this present moment it's How To Keep a Man and Lose a Devil, my eternal thanks to @crowwolf for the suggestion to write it, I cannot wait to get the rest of it out it's turned into a real passion project!

Favourite fics I read this year: I tried to fit as many as possible during the recent BG3 fic celebration event all month, (see the BG3KudosCember posts for fics and tags!) and still have so many to read, and even that feels still woefully inadequate. Cannot believe there is so much creativity and fun and talent out there that I took so long to discover.

Writing goals for 2025:

Don't stop. Don't give up.

Get ongoing works as completed as possible.

Have more patience. Slow down and listen when you know it doesn't quite feel as you want it to be.

Believe in yourself. It's not too late.

New works for 2025: I'm hoping no new fandom works until I'm more complete with the ones I have ongoing. We'll see lol.

Thank you for all the amazing, creative experiences, and hope the next year brings what everyone needs from it. Happy new year! 🎉✨

[diyasgarden]

live footage of me talking to people here and responding to anons

[imerian]

I think i should grace all of with another charms i did, this time it's galex edition ✨

As always version without doodles under the cut and all details in the tags bc i physically cannot not put thoughts into what i do

[vaguely-concerned]

first of all rye 'hello fellow kids' ingellvar there is nothing in this world or any other I wouldn't do for you. second of all, considering where this story ends... I'm going to die. this conversation -- and how much he genuinely believes what he's saying at this point -- held up against the fact that in a couple of months max he's going to get her killed (well. that's how he feels anyway) and then go against everything she believed in and stood for as a person in the end and have to live forever with knowing that's how he honoured her sacrifice. (and live with how easy it is to live with, the way he doesn't regret what he did at all. she'll haunt him from time to time, that's fine, he's a watcher he's loved many a ghost before and will again. but that won't.) 'no one is beyond help? oh lace I'm so so sorry, wherever you are now please forgive me for who I am, but after what he pulled and by the time I'm done with him on my watcher's oath he will be beyond help. I'll hold every hand in this world that reaches back but his'. and she'll still be gone.

'or none of this matters'. im so fucking sad I feel sick *through tears* this is great I love fiction I love this game (embarrassingly genuine as is my wont)

[bloggrgirl]

this is not how mental illnesses work but i truly feel that if i look at jensen ackles too much i will develop gender dysphoria

[quietlyblooms]

Elongated limbs stretch in the habitual way he has come to enjoy since the release from his confines within the prison, body relishing in the freedom of space and the breeze of fresh air. The days before the fight that looms are lessening, but he is not worried. He will either be victorious or become a tool, regardless fulfilling his duty as a weapon of the jujutsu world.

"What's got a long face on you, huh?" he asks as he spots Chiyo, wandering over to flop down next to her, a sprawl of casual arrogance. "I'll win."

unprompted | @resolutepath has me ready to put gojo and chiyo in a safe lil bubble!

her frown remains despite gojo's reassurance. he takes up so much space. chiyo shifts from her curled up position against the arm of the couch to face him, still curled into a ball and her cheek and shoulder pressing against the back of the couch instead. she sighs at him.

" he's got megumi. "

does he even realize how much space he takes up? so many days have been spent worried for him, even before the world fell apart; so many moments have been spent with him, some of her favorites; so many thoughts have been spent on him, silly and fragile and agitated and dread-filled; and she'd never tell him, but so many tears were shed for him, too. does he even know? he must. surely he must.

" i'm worried about him. " there isn't a barrier between their gazes this time -- not even those sunglasses chiyo's always wanted to try on. something about it makes her heart awfully tender. " i'm worried about you. what will winning cost you? "

she wants to get closer, find comfort in the warmth of his arms, but chiyo remains where she is. not yet. she needs to say something. not yet. not yet. her gaze falls to the small space between them. but when? when is the right time to tell gojo just how much room he takes up in her heart? surely he must know, but he deserves to hear her say it outright. when?

not now. her throat threatens to close up as emotion overwhelms her ( what if these days are all they have left? what if sukuna wins? what if? what if? what if? ). it's a struggle to pull in a breath that isn't noticeably shaky. she doesn't want him to worry; chiyo will never stop worrying about gojo, even as he expresses his unwavering confidence, but she refuses to be a cause for concern at a time like this.

the blonde fidgets with the hem of her pants, doesn't dare meet gojo's eyes. he'll surely see right through her.

" i don't want you getting hurt. "

[444lotus]

how i manifested (+revised) my dream body ౨ৎ

This is my first post on my new account, though I am NOT new to the law and NOT new to loablr either. This post is specifically about how I manifested my dream body instantly with no technique besides knowing :)

PART ONE - the old story

In the old story, I was so fixated on my body and my weight all of the time, I was tracking my calories and weighing myself and my food obsessively and constantly gaining and losing weight. Back then, my beliefs were that 1) Excess food causes weight gain, 2) If I don't track my food and weigh myself, I will become too fat/skinny, and 3) There is something wrong with my body, and I need to diet/exercise to fix it.

Noticing these beliefs were key to changing the way I viewed food and my body, and therefore changing how I knew food to effect me and how I knew my body to be.

When I was overweight, I knew my body was too big, I knew I was eating too much, I knew excess calories made me gain weight. When I was underweight, I knew I had no appetite, I knew I was too bony, I knew that exercise makes you gain muscle which is why I had none, etc. I had to identify the limiting beliefs that made me know my body was a certain way.

PART TWO - writing the new story

Once I identified the beliefs that were holding me back and kept me from my goals ("I know I eat too much, even if I affirm I'm skinny, I'm still going to gain weight."), I could then change them. I wrote down a list of these beliefs, like I did above, and came up with reversals. For example;

"I overeat, so I will gain weight" -> "Calories aren't even real, so I can eat whatever I want and stay the same weight."

"I eat junk food, so I'll never be skinny" -> "I love how fast my metabolism is, I can eat junk all day and still stay so skinny." or "Junk food is just like other foods. Raspberries can't make me fat so neither can hamburgers."

"I don't exercise enough to be toned" -> "It's crazy how I'm naturally so toned and fit without trying."

The key for me was changing key beliefs that kept me dieting and exercising to lose weight, to sever the tie between calories consumed and weight, and hours exercising and muscles. These are limiting beliefs. We literally create our reality. Not ice cream, not soda and chips, none of that can overcome YOU as a divine creator. It sounds silly when you spell it out like that, doesn't it?

PART THREE - how i did it

Okay, now we understand that the secret is to change the rules of our own reality to allow us to know a higher truth (my higher truth? I am a skinny legend). So how do we put this into practice?

All you have to do is know. You set these rules, so you know they are true, reality is bound to them. You must know you are successful, know that reality is in the 4d, and feel truly satisfied in that realm. You can do this using whatever method you need to, but personally, I just knew deep within me that I was my ideal weight, and that nothing could change that, that is simply the reality, that is simply the way things are. I thought about old pictures I took of myself, and remembered how skinny I looked in them, I thought about the last time I saw my friends and how much littler they said I'd gotten, I thought about the last time I stood on the scale and how it read the exact weight I knew myself to be. And I just knew, deep within me, that was simply how things were.

And the last step, for me, was to feel truly joyful at this realization. To feel satisfied it came into fruition. Without seeking confirmation, because I already KNEW.

And what do you know? Pictures of myself in my phone from weeks ago, they were my ideal body. The girl I saw in the mirror when I stood up from my meditation? She had my ideal body. My clothes? XS and S, all of them. I had revised my ideal body all the way back to the day I bought them. And confirmed this by checking pictures I took in the dressing room.

I'm telling you right now it is possible if you know in your heart you've always had your desire. It's always been fulfilled within you. You make the rules because you are a divine creator. Nothing outside of you can change what you know to be true.

That's all for now ౨ৎ

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- the aha moment

or...how they realize they're in love with you

seungcheol doesn't get that aha moment, falling in love isn't something that happens within seconds for him. it's like he's slowly drifting into love, not even realizing you've become the focal point of his entire existence. when it finally hits him, it's a quiet, simple moment. he's watching you make him breakfast in the morning, admiring you quietly from the kitchen counter. he zones out for a moment, blinking suddenly and realizing damn. that's my woman. and he knows he's ruined for life.

it's kind of silly, how jeonghan realizes he's in love with you. he's just returned home from a busy day at work, entering the house to find it empty. searching the place top to bottom, he's about to call you when - BOO - you jump out from one of the closets and scares the soul out of him. he's clutching his chest, watching as you collapse onto the ground in a fit of giggles. he can't help but laugh along, realizing through the chaos that he's found his soulmate, and he'd be damned not to admit he's in love with you.

joshua's a simple man by nature. he's easily happy in life, only needing his members, his job, his lifestyle, and of course, you. it doesn't take long into your relationship before he realizes he's in love, as the two of you take a stroll along the Han River after a long day. he's watching the setting sun reflect against your figure, taking his phone out to snap a few pictures. it's when he notices his camera roll is full of pictures of you does he think well, that's it. i'm in love.

upon meeting his family, jun notices how much work you've put into it. you're doing your best to speak his town's dialect, communicating with his parents in a language that made them most comfortable. his heart swells when he sees you amidst his childhood home, trading stories and eating with the people who raised him. it's when he notes that you look so perfect here that he realizes you just fit. he's in love.

as if everything else is with soonyoung, his aha moment is full of fireworks and pizzazz. having just finished the most record breaking performance of his life, he finds himself with one thought only: i want to go home. usually, it's because he's tired. but now, ever since you stumbled into his life, he finds himself wanting, needing, to go home so he can hold you and recite everything that happened today. he's practically thrumming with energy to rush home, and everyone around him sees what is so painfully obvious. he's so in love.

wonwoo's always credited himself to be a loner. not a lot of people can fit with his quiet personality, so when you offer the idea of "parallel play" he's a little confused. his heart warms when you explain that you don't mind doing separate things as long as you're in the same area, understanding that he needs more time to himself than others might. it's when you tell him you love him enough to compromise does he think im so in love with this girl right now.

woozi's used to writing songs dedicated to his fans and members. he sits down for another writing session, brainstorming ideas and the thought of you pops into his mind. he shrugs, thinking it might be nice to mix it up a bit, sitting down to write something about you. it's when he reads his own words back does he realize he's irrevocably screwed and so in love with you. thought about settling down, buying her a house and saying screw the music. yeah, he's in love.

having always been a realist, minghao doesn't necessary believe in true love, or love at first sight. he understands there's going to be someone out there for him, but he's skeptical that that someone is going to be perfect. all his beliefs go out the window the moment he sees you - it's like you're surrounded by a golden glow - and he realizes maybe love at first sight can be real.

seokmin loves and gives as easy as breathing. he's always been a generous guy, and it's when you sit him down and kindly remind him to leave some for himself does he stare at you and realize ok i've found the one. you've become that steadiness in his life that used to be just his members, and you love and give to him like it's as simple as breathing too.

having always been the resident cook, mingyu's eyeing your food creation like it's some kind of poison or drug. he had insisted you didn't need to cook for him, he's always been the cook and doesn't mind it, but you were stubborn and he relented. it's when the first bite blows him away does he realize he kinda misses having someone cook for him too. if you're this good at cooking i might just have to marry you, he says, ignoring how you blush, going back for another bite.

seungkwan's always been the entertainer. he doesn't mind it, he enjoys the fact it's his job to make everyone laugh. but when times get tough and he's in no mood to be the entertainer, you're right there to support him. it's when he gets home to you after a particularly rough day and you welcome him in with open arms, murmuring how he's done well and doesn't need to do more. it's when he realizes he can just be seungkwan - not seungkwan the entertainer, but just seungkwan - and he loves you for that.

vernon never really thought about finding the one. he always just assumed that they would find him. and that's exactly what happens, when you bump into each other at the movie theatre - both there alone just cause. it's when you're enthusiastically going band for band with vernon about movies that he's forced with the realization that shit. maybe i have found the one.

chan's always known he was in love with you. he doesn't like to admit it cause he thinks it makes him sound sappy, but he truly never questioned his love for you. it was a simple thing in his mind - this person makes me so fucking happy - i must be in love. and how could it not be simple for him? he's staring at you quipping about some joke to his friends and he's thinking i love you. he's watching you just wake up from a nap and he's thinking i love you. he sees a text from you on his phone mid-dance practice. i love you. he's always been in love with you because he loves everything to do with you.

[yourlittlebunnyy]

tw: size kink, bit of dacryphilia, overall this is nastyyy

something about having you under him, squirming and helpless, makes azriel go feral.

it's the way you look so small compared to him, the way you are incapable of doing anything because he's just too strong and you can't fight back even if you want to.

the fact is, that no matter what size you are, he is big. all those hours passed in the illyrian camps training pay off. his hand alone could cover a good part of your back. and his cock... it's a struggle everytime, but oh man if he doesn't take pleasure in seeing you struggling.

the first time you two fucked, he had to strech you out with his fingers first. and when he saw how much you struggled with just one of his fingers, he knew it was going to be a tight fit. your walls barely capable of fitting one single finger, he couldn’t imagine how you could have taken his cock, but you did. you take it like a good girl every time.

"you can take it, baby. yeah..." he groans. "you can fucking take it. just like that..." the room is filled with the thick smell of sex, your little cries overpower the sound of skin against skin. you might almost feel embarrassed by the sounds coming out of your lips, but azriel's cock is fucking you so well it sends your brain to mush. zero thoughts behind your pretty eyes.

and azriel loves fucking you. loves watching as your face scrunches in a mixture of pain and pleasure, his cock stretching you out, breaking you in an half. he mutters praises under his breath, his eyes fixated on your tummy that bulges with every thrust, the line of his cock visible through your skin. "look at us, baby. fuck... look at us." he moans, forcing you to look at where your bodies meet. pretty tears stream down your eyes, overstimulation kicking in. you're so full you can feel him in your stomach.

he watches in wonder, completely intoxicated by you and amazed by how much of him you can take.

azriel is addicted to the power he has over you, too. the way he could throw you around like a toy, holding you in place just how he likes.

"c'mon baby, just a little more..." he whispers, supporting you with those strong arms. your back touches his chest, you can feel the wild rhythm of his heart against your back. your legs tremble, exhausted. "give me one more, just one more... i promise."

every time he says something, even tho your head is disconnected, your body can somehow still register his words, your walls clenching automatically around his girth, making him groan.

his hand presses against your tummy, feeling the bulge makes him twitch inside of you. the pressure causes his cock the hit even deeper, hitting spots that make you see stars. "keep clenching around my cock, sweet girl." you sniff, little incoherent prayers fall from your lips. you don't even know what you're begging for. "gods, gonna ruin you for everyone else. you're fucking mine."

main masterlist - azriel masterlist

[chuluoyi]

✎ treasure

- gojo satoru x reader

the strongest sorcerer meets his match in his petulant son, who inherits his six eyes and is having trouble with them

genre: taking care of your son with dad!gojo, fluff/comfort

note: AAAA i love this waaay too much!😭 this brilliant idea gave me baby fever so bad came from an anon who so energetically dropped by my askbox, thank you! and seeing this artwork by Yoon in twitter definitely gave me more ideas too!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"No!"

"Why? This helps—"

"That's ugly! I don't want to look ugly—like you!"

Satoru blinked in utter disbelief, and you broke into the most satisfying fits of laughter. In front of him, standing tall and sullen and very much like him was his own son, now barely five years old.

Your boy mentioned that he had been experiencing discomfort in his eyes lately, which also caused him to become dizzy. And Satoru attempted to persuade him to use a blindfold like he did because it was effective.

However, as we can see, his son didn't take his suggestion well at all. His bright blue eyes, ones your husband passed down, bore an intense glare aimed squarely at him.

"I..." Satoru sputtered, his eyes twitching. The sight was comical as no one had ever managed to elicit such a reaction from him. And no one ever considered him an unattractive person too! "I'm not—"

"You are!"

Once again, you let out a triumphant cackle, and this time your husband shot you a glare. But you didn't care. All those years of tolerating his antics had paid off. His son had finally put him in his place!

When he was a baby, you thought your son was Gojo Satoru incarnate. He was the spitting image of him—with all gaits and expressions too. And you had worried if he would turn out to be just as much of a menace as he was.

But apparently, life has other sweet plans because like you, he was a relatively calm boy, diligent, and didn't like to make a fuss. Satoru argued that it was definitely in his genes—claiming he had also been a sweetheart when he was a child, but you couldn't quite imagine him being remotely as reserved as your son.

That aside, the cause of this hilarious exchange did actually make you worry a bit.

"Look, I know it probably looks odd," Satoru gestured at the blindfold in his hand, but your little boy still didn't seem convinced by the pout he displayed. "But it will help you, I promise. If only you would—"

Oh, but it was almost like karma because besides his appearance, the other trait your son inherited from your husband was his strong sense of winning.

His face reddened from sheer indignation, and he once again screamed, "I don't want to! I'll just cover my eyes with—" he took a nearby napkin and pulled them over his eyes, "—this!"

Satoru sighed in annoyance, and you decided to jump in. Crouching down next to him, you gently pried the napkin from his hand.

"Papa just wants to help you, okay?" you reasoned, cupping his plump cheeks. Gods, he used to be this round thing in your and Satoru's arms and now he was already this big. "He uses it everyday and he has no problems, see?"

"But it doesn't look good..." Your son drooped his head in disappointment, and you could feel Satoru rolling his eyes beside you, evidently miffed at the thought of him being less than good-looking.

Parenting is challenging, especially when your husband still holds onto some of his childlike tendencies. So you decided to end the discussion here.

It was later at noon, while you were in the kitchen preparing lunch when you heard your son's scream and something crashing. Your heart was in your throat as you rushed to the backyard, only to see something that made your heart lurch even more.

Your sweet boy was wailing on the ground, clutching his head, and Satoru—

His expression was as horrified as yours if not more, as he ran and caught your son in his arms, pressing him tightly against his chest as if shielding him from the sun altogether. "Shit. Hey, hey—buddy, you okay?”

Satoru lifted him up and carried him inside. You were right beside him as he settled on the sofa, gently hushing your son, who was still shaking and had his eyes covered against his chest.

"M-My head..." your son whimpered, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. "...h-hurts..."

"It's okay, it's okay..." he murmured, caressing the child's hair in a soothing manner, and it reminded you so much of what he would do to you in the early mornings. "I've got you now, nothing’s going to happen to you. Hang on a little longer, yeah?"

You felt warm tears threatening to well up in your eyes at the sight. It was heart-wrenching to see your son in such torment, and the way your husband was consoling him deeply touched you. It served as a poignant reminder of just how many years had passed from when Gojo Satoru was still that brat who used to mess with you during high school.

Soon, your little boy's breathing became even, and he went to sleep in Satoru's comforting embrace.

You looked at him while biting your lip, undiluted worry in your voice. "What should we do? He's been experiencing pain often lately..."

Satoru really wanted to wipe that expression from your face, but with his precious child clinging onto him for dear life, even he didn't have the heart to.

"Don't worry, I'll be with him," he assured, a plan already forming in his mind. "If he hates blindfolds that much, then I'll get him some pairs of glasses just like the ones I have—for kids. We'll start with that."

Bearing the weight of his clan's revered eyes was a heavy burden, and honestly, he would prefer it if none of his children had to inherit them. After all, he went through it all too as a child—the manifestation of the six eyes' powers marks the beginning of life as a sorcerer. The perilous world he was still trying to keep away from his son.

Nonetheless, he would be there for him every step of the way. It was what he vowed to himself on the day he was born. He wouldn’t let anything befall him—or you.

You had calmed down after hearing his plan, and as you gazed at your precious boy’s innocent face in his protective grip and the gentle pats he gave him, you suddenly found yourself in a mischievous mood once again.

"Heh, quite the doting papa, aren't you, Satoru?" you winked, a teasing smile on your face. You could have sworn his cheeks slightly flushed as he retorted:

"Hmph. He is my personal little body warmer, after all."

[swiftdove]

collateral damage

pairing: rio vidal x agatha harkness x fem!reader

summary: after being stranded by your ex-lovers, you've found a new life, hoping to finally move on. unfortunately, fate just doesn't seem to be on your side.

content: angst, allusions to smut, sapphic yearning

a/n: i'm obsessed to say the least

You should've known.

From the moment Agatha stepped foot into your pitiful excuse of a store, you should've slammed the door shut. For years, you'd been reeling from the wounds inflicted by your so-called lover. If you could even call her that. Never, did she once, refer to you as anything other than her 'pet'.

You supposed the name was fitting. You were practically a dog, groveling at the ground she walked on. Hoping, begging, praying, dying that she wouldn't leave. 

Then, without a trace, she vanished from your life, set on her next twisted mission. You had simply been a means to an end, a brief footnote in her life. 

It didn't help that the only other person you cared about, Rio, had followed in Agatha's absence. They'd left you alone, desperately trying to piece together the shattered remains of what you once had. 

Sometimes, you wondered. You wondered if they ever felt guilty about what they did, and if they ever thought of you from time to time. Then, you scolded yourself for even daring to believe that the Agatha Harkness and Rio Vidal would have the time of day to care about you. You had drowned in that pit of self-deprecation for years, slowly re-learning how to live without them. 

And just as you thought you were finally free, the wretched witch came back, pulling you back under her spell. If it were anyone else, you would have said 'no'. But it wasn't just 'anyone else'. It was Agatha. You weren't sure where this sick, borderline-obsessive love for her came from. You had left it to depreciate in the back of your mind, where you would have preferred for it to have stayed.

Unfortunately, Agatha had had other plans.

It was stupid. You hated yourself for it.  You hated that tiny spark that you felt when she said your name, that familiar warmth in your chest when she came close. You would've given anything to stop the feeling.

If only Agatha knew. Throughout her long, melodramatic speech about the rewards of The Road, all you could do was stare at her in disbelief. The promise of being with her, even if it were for a short while, was enough to have convinced you. If you had known, back then, that Rio would have been joining you, you would have eagerly accepted the offer without hesitating.

But then again, time had cast a golden glow over your past relationships. You hadn't remembered how unwanted you had felt in their presence, how much they hadn't cared about you.

Sat around the warmth heat of the fireplace, your gaze lay wistfully on the two women. Situated across from them, you felt more distant to them than you had when you were alone.

"I have a scar," Rio suddenly spoke, glancing over at the coven.

"No, you don't," Agatha shot back, almost instantly. 

Your ears perked, waiting for Rio's next words.

"Yes, I do," Rio replied, glancing over at Agatha, her solemn gaze worth a thousand unspoken words. It was their dynamic, their silent conversations, that left you feeling like a second-choice. The feeling settled into the pit of your stomach, which you desperately tried to keep from coming back up.

"A long time ago, I loved someone." Rio shot another pointed look at Agatha. "And I had to do something that I did not wanna do, even though it was my job. And it hurt them. She is my scar."

If you had the choice to go deaf right there and then, you would have chosen it immediately. Although, you knew it wouldn't stop the sharp pain you felt in your heart. Seeing them together was enough. 

"I have to go stretch my legs," Agatha said, walking away.

Just like she used to walk away from every problem in her life. Like she did with you.

You couldn't bear it. One more second in their presence, and you were sure you would have thrown up.

"Same," you replied quietly, walking in the opposition direction to your past lover. 

It was only until the warmth of the fire was long gone, that you felt the tears sliding down your cheeks. 

Breaking down into sobs, you brought your knees to your chest, burying your head inside. You shouldn't have come. You should have said no. 

It seemed as though fate was constantly punishing you, tugging at your heartstrings until they threatened to break. You hated that a part of you wanted to hurt them. Just enough, so that you too would have left a scar. But you knew you couldn't do it. You wouldn't. Not after they shared, so intimately, their past with you, letting you devour every fiber of their being.

You knew why they were the way that they were. That's why it hurt so much to watch them, again and again, fall victim to their pasts. That's why you could never leave, knowing how much pain they had endured, knowing that their wounds ran too deep to ever heal.

Sympathy was a knife, stabbed straight into your back when they left you to dry.

"You good?"

You'd been so deep in your emotions, you hadn't noticed the dark shadow looming over you. Swiveling around, you were met with a pair of manic brown eyes.

"Rio," you exhaled, quickly wiping away your tears. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Rio shook her head softly, pushing her tongue against her right cheek. Her fingers trailed up your leg, sending shivers down your spine. 

"Come on, now," she lulled. "You never were much of a good liar."

"Maybe I've changed," you replied sharply, pulling away from her touch.

Rio's grip tightened, her fingernails digging into your thigh. "Maybe you have," she replied dismissively. "Is that why you never called?"

You scoffed, turning away from her piercing stare. "No. We're not doing this - this wasn't my fault. You and Agatha left without saying a word to me. Call me crazy for assuming you were done with me."

"Now there's the Y/N I know," Rio bit back. "Always jumping to conclusions."

You rolled your eyes at her. "What does it matter anyways? You seem perfectly fine without me. I didn't seem to have left a scar."

"Is that what this is about?" Rio questioned, a taunting grin tugging at her lips.

You refused to dignify her question with an answer.

"Aww, was our little baby feeling left out?"

A mocking, cruel voice rang out in the air, one that you knew all too well.

"Fuck off, Agatha," you snapped. You were hardly in the mood to deal with her heartless jests tonight.

"Someone's forgotten their manners," Agatha remarked, her voice laced with venom. 

Rio chuckled, her grip still deathly tight on your thighs. You could feel the blood seeping out of your skin, onto her fingers.

"I wish I could have forgotten you instead," you retorted, unsure where this newfound attitude was coming from. 

"Now, now. Don't get too cocky," Rio warned, although the grin on her face said something entirely different.

You bit back a scoff. "What's this, anyways? Last time I checked, you both hated each other."

The Green Witch shrugged. "We both share a common interest."

Refusing to take anymore of this, you made a move away from them, eager to escape Rio's death grip. Unfortunately, the two witches were unwilling to let you get away so easily.

"Don't," Agatha cautioned, her voice alone enough to stop you in your tracks.

"What do you want?" you snapped, finally turning towards her.

Your eyes narrowed as Agatha's smile turned into something sinister.

"You," she replied definitively. 

You laughed sarcastically, barely believing what was happening right now. "Are you fucking kidding me? You left me. You can't - I - don't you think we're too far gone now? I mean, you left me wondering where the hell you -"

"We didn't want to leave," Rio interjected.

"Then why did you?" 

"We cared too much about you to stay," Rio explained, gently interlocking your fingers with hers. "It would've only have hurt you."

"Well, you hurt me either way," you replied bitterly, flinching at the coldness of the witch's fingers.

Rio sighed. "I know. I know we did."

Exasperated, Agatha tilted your head up with her fingers, forcing you to look her in the eyes. "Pet, we're sorry."

"Well, sorry doesn't cut it anymore. Not in my books," you snapped, wrenching yourself out of their grasps. "And don't call me that. I'm not your pet."

Without looking back, you walked back towards the fireplace. Unbeknownst to you, the two witches you left behind were hardly satisfied with your answer.

"She's forgotten who she belongs to," Rio murmured, staring into the back of your head.

Agatha tightened her jaw, shaking her head. Her eyes met Rio's, a knowing smirk playing on their lips. 

"It looks like we'll have to teach her a lesson then, hm?"