#it is just a good reminder to trust myself in the present

[none-tadashi-left-hiro]

I have started associating the ritual of brushing out your hair with forgiveness

[fortunxa]

Jinx’s take on birthdays

H E A D C A N O N S

「 ✦ Jinx x birthday girl!reader (ft. Isha!) ✦ 」

author’s note: this is my birthday gift to myself, so happy 21st to me! a day late, but the energy is here 🍰 it’s a hefty “birthdays by Jinx” guide, trust. everybody’s included

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── .✦ in general

⭑.ᐟ Jinx is unpredictable and spontaneous, but she’d put a lot of effort into making you feel special. It wouldn’t necessarily be traditional, but it would scream Jinx’s personal touch. Expect creative, maybe even over-the-top plans.

⭑.ᐟ She’d probably start scheming weeks in advance. She would try to keep it a secret but might accidentally drop hints—giggling to herself or testing out her surprise explosives in the middle of the night.

⭑.ᐟ On the day of, she’d be buzzing with energy, maybe even more excited than you. She’d be jumping around, barely able to contain herself, and constantly checking to make sure everything’s “just right”.

⭑.ᐟ Chaotic wake-up call. Jinx wouldn’t just wake you up—she’d startle you awake. Maybe it’s a mini firework going off, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” screamed at the top of her lungs, or her jumping onto the bed while tossing confetti in the air. She’d think it’s hilarious.

⭑.ᐟ She would wake up early to attempt to make breakfast in bed, and it’d be a mess. The pancakes might come out misshapen, the eggs might be slightly burnt, and the kitchen might look like a warzone, but she’d serve the meal with the biggest, proudest grin, sticking sparklers in it.

– “Chef Jinx, at your service! Presentation’s… optional.”

⭑.ᐟ She would tease you all day with “hints” about what’s coming—big dramatic gestures, mysterious grins, and exaggerated secrecy.

⭑.ᐟ Alternatively, she’d pretend to forget about the birthday at first, just to make the reveal more dramatic.

⭑.ᐟ Jinx might attempt to bake a cake—or something resembling one. It’d probably have lopsided layers, mismatched decorations, and way too much frosting, but she’d remind you it was baked with love. Surprisingly, it ends up tasting quite good, all things considered. She insists on lighting so many candles that it becomes a literal bonfire.

– “Make a BIG wish!”

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would pour her heart out into making a gift. Maybe it’s a painted gadget, a weapon engraved with your initials, or a music box that hums your favorite tune. / She would try her hand at crafting something wearable—a necklace made from colorful wires and gears or a bracelet with tiny charms representing your relationship. / She might secretly collect mementos from your time together—photos, doodles, or little objects from your dates. She’d throw them into a scrapbook and complete it with her graffiti-style art.

⭑.ᐟ Isha would work on a small handmade gift for you as well—a simple drawing or a decorated trinket like a painted stone or a flower crown. She’d try to give it to you directly but hesitate, clinging to Jinx’s sleeve.

– “What are you waiting for, kid? Go give it to her!” And Isha would finally step forward, holding out the gift with both hands and a bashful smile.

⭑.ᐟ The birthday card would be a mix of chaotic doodles and messy handwriting. Jinx might overthink the message, so she’d stick with keeping it short and sweet.

“I suck at words, but you make me feel lucky. Thanks for sticking around, you weirdo. ꨄ︎ Love you. — Jinx :Þ”

⭑.ᐟ She would secretly paint an enormous mural on a wall in Zaun or Piltover, featuring your likeness surrounded by bold, neon colors and chaotic designs. It’d say something cheeky like, “the best girlfriend in Zaun (and Piltover—fight me)”.

⭑.ᐟ If someone tries to upstage her efforts—whether with gifts or plans—she would get hilariously pouty and competitive.

– “Oh, that’s cute, but did they make you a flamethrower? Didn’t think so.”

⭑.ᐟ If anyone else tries to monopolize your attention for too long (even for innocent birthday wishes), she might get possessive and interrupt, playing it off as a joke.

– “Okay, okay, enough. She’s MY birthday girl.”

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would be extra overprotective on your special day, constantly holding your hand or slinging an arm around your shoulders. She’s not only protecting you but your “birthday vibes” as well (her words). She scowls if anyone so much as looks at you funny.

– “You want a birthday beatdown, huh?”

⭑.ᐟ She would absolutely wear a birthday hat all day, and she’d insist you wear one too.

⭑.ᐟ She would write a chaotic, nonsensical birthday song and perform it with full dramatic flair, banging on random objects to create a “beat.”

– “This song’s copyrighted—only for you, babe!”

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would stick to you like glue, constantly poking you, dragging you to see surprises, and showering you with compliments.

– “Wow, your face is so birthday today. Like, insanely cute. Unfair, really.”

– “You’re so perfect, it’s disgusting.”

⭑.ᐟ She might hijack a Piltover broadcast or Zaun’s speakers to publicly shout out your birthday.

⭑.ᐟ She would watch your reactions to everything she planned, grinning like a proud kid.

– “Do you like it? Tell me you like it! C’mon—smile for me!”

⭑.ᐟ She keeps shouting, “IT’S HER BIRTHDAY!” every time someone enters the room, even if it’s someone who already knows.

⭑.ᐟ No matter how chaotic the day is, Jinx would genuinely want you to feel loved and appreciated. She’d get quiet for a moment at the end of the day, letting her vulnerability show.

– “I don’t always get things right, but… you’re my favorite person. So, yeah. Happy birthday, babe.”

⭑.ᐟ As long as there’s leftover cake, she’ll keep celebrating.

– “What do you mean your birthday is over? How am I eating a birthday cake slice, then?”

── .✦ Jinx planning a surprise birthday party

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would throw a chaotic but fun party with a theme that makes sense only to her. Think: “sharks with birthday hats”.

⭑.ᐟ Or, she’d mix everything you like to make a big, nonsensical theme. Think: your favorite animals/colors/anything relating to your interests in one big concoction. (thanks bunny!!<3)

⭑.ᐟ She would talk a mile a minute about her ideas, constantly glancing at Isha to see if she’s keeping up. Isha, sitting cross-legged on the floor, would enthusiastically point to certain parts of Jinx’s sketches or mimic explosions with her hands to signal she loves the idea of fireworks.

⭑.ᐟ Isha would be Jinx’s undercover operative, spying on your preferences.

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would drag Isha into a crafting frenzy. They’d make mismatched decorations like paper chains and confetti cannons. Isha would quietly fold a bunch of origami animals to scatter around as subtle decorations, which Jinx would “improve” by adding googly eyes to practically all of them. Can’t forget the banner that says “YOU’RE THE BOMB” (because of course).

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would initially want to handle everything herself, believing that only she could make the party perfect. She’d get flustered when things went wrong but stubbornly refuse to admit she needed assistance.

⭑.ᐟ If things got overwhelming, she might swallow her pride and reluctantly ask for help in last-minute desperation, though it’d come out dramatically.

– “Okay, fine! I need backup.”

⭑.ᐟ To keep the party secret, she would assign ridiculous code names to everything.

the party = “Operation Boom Bash”

the cake = “Project Frosty Delight”

you = “Target Hot Stuff”

⭑.ᐟ She would treat it like a mission briefing, but she’d be annoyingly cryptic with her instructions.

– “Okay, so I need, like, three gallons of paint, a live shark—just for a minute!—and maybe some cupcakes.”

– “How is the live shark a must-have for a birthday party, but cupcakes are a ‘maybe’?”

– “No questions!”

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would be offended if anyone tried to suggest a different idea. She was your girlfriend, after all, and she only wanted the best for you. But she quickly realizes that her demands are nearly impossible to meet, so she tones them down to avoid making the party a disaster. Accepting the help is her way of showing she’s trying to be a better person for you. She wants to show she can do something right.

– “I just want her to be happy, you know? I need this to be right.”

⭑.ᐟ DIY invitations. Jinx would hand-make wild, artistic invitations for the party, even if it’s just for you. They’d be chaotic masterpieces—probably involving glitter and graffiti-like design, with Isha sneaking a doodle of you, Jinx, and herself on the back. Jinx would only invite people she knows you like, even if it means threatening them to RSVP with notes like, “Show up or get kaboomed. <3 Jinx.”

⭑.ᐟ The day of the celebration, she might hand out “party favors” for any friends who join—small, colorful explosives or confetti grenades.

– “Take one! They’re mostly harmless!”

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would constantly check in with you because she’d be genuinely worried about messing things up despite her confidence.

– “You havin’ fun? You like it? How ‘bout now?”

– “You’re smiling, so I guess that means I didn’t screw this up, right?”

⭑.ᐟ She’d pull Isha aside occasionally to ask her to “spy” on guests to make sure no one was causing trouble.

– “Okay, short stack, go check on the snack table and make sure no one’s hogging the chips.”

⭑.ᐟ Isha would quietly insist on getting a slice of cake to give you herself, practically shoving it into your hands with a big smile.

⭑.ᐟ During a toast for you, Isha would quietly raise her glass (even if it’s just juice) and look at you with a shy smile, gesturing a little “cheers” with her cup.

⭑.ᐟ Isha would be in charge of keeping guests entertained while Jinx set up bigger surprises. She would direct people with expressive gestures, and they would end up following her lead because she’s so animated and endearing. She’d shoo them away to the dance floor or hand out drinks with glow-stick stirrers.

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would constantly circle back to you to check if you need anything.

– “You still good, babe? Need more cake? A drink? Someone thrown out?”

⭑.ᐟ Isha would trail after you for a bit, helping out in small ways, like passing you a drink or brushing confetti off your shoulder, subtly showing her affection.

⭑.ᐟ If anyone tried to make the party about themselves or annoyed you, Jinx would intervene immediately.

– “Go eat some cake and zip it.”

⭑.ᐟ Isha would stick close to you during parts of the party, mirroring Jinx’s protective instincts. If someone approached who looked suspicious (in her eyes), she would cross her arms, glare, and shake her head like a little bodyguard. Jinx calls it “the Isha test”.

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would rope Isha into playful pranks, like sneaking up behind guests and tossing glitter at them.

⭑.ᐟ She would start spontaneous dance-offs, grabbing you and spinning you around just to hear you laugh.

– “Dance with me, birthday girl! Don’t make me embarrass myself alone!”

⭑.ᐟ She would be darting around and hyping up the crowd, while Isha acted as her silent shadow, handing out sparklers or checking up on the games.

– “Ladies and gentlemen, step right up! And by step up, I mean do what the kid tells you—she’s in charge of this one!”

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would stick to traditional party games and activities but add her own twist to them each time, no matter how trivial.

“bomb pong” ➪ her version of beer pong, where she’d paint the ping pong balls to look like mini bombs.

“truth or chaos” ➪ self-explanatory. She would make sure you only got fun or flattering dares, even being flirty and teasing with them.

– “Oh no, you chose chaos? That means you have to kiss the coolest person at this party.” And you both know it’s her.

trivia game ➪ Jinx would want to show off how much she knows about you. The catch? Half the trivia questions would also be about herself just to test you, too.

– “Okay, bonus round—what’s my favorite thing to blow up?!”

Glow-in-the-dark darts and lit up board just because she could. If you point out the dangerous side of the game—especially with little Isha running around—she’d groan loudly but relent, setting up a glow-in-the-dark ring toss instead.

She’d hang a homemade piñata filled with tiny trinkets and candy. Everyone would take turns blindfolded, with Jinx calling out unhelpful directions like: “Swing left! No, your other left!”. She’d make sure you got the first and last swing.

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would be cheering you on during every activity and heckling the opponents, while Isha would root for you by miming cheers and clapping her hands. If you won a round, Isha would leap into the air and give you a medal she crafted beforehand.

⭑.ᐟ Like the mini-Jinx she is, she would periodically check on you, giving you a thumbs-up or tapping your shoulder to make sure you’re having fun.

⭑.ᐟ If you seemed overwhelmed, Isha would grab Jinx’s arm and point to you, miming a timeout gesture. She would sit quietly nearby, offering her company without being intrusive.

⭑.ᐟ After the chaos of the party, Jinx would unwind next to you on the couch, resting her head on your shoulder while little Isha napped, curled up in your side, making you both grin.

– “Looks like you’ve got another fan, huh?”

── .✦ birthday girl!reader who wants a low-key celebration

⭑.ᐟ If you didn’t want a big party or over-the-top surprises for your birthday, it would definitely take Jinx a moment to recalibrate.

⭑.ᐟ She might struggle to understand why you don’t want a big celebration. She’d look genuinely puzzled, her mind racing to adjust her usual plans.

⭑.ᐟ Once she accepts that you prefer a low-key celebration, she would throw herself into making a quiet day special. It might take some effort for her to tone down her usual chaotic energy, but she’d do it because it’s what you want for your special day.

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would constantly ask questions to figure out what you consider “too much.”

– “Okay, so like, if I draw a heart on the wall in paint, is that over-the-top? No? Cool. What if I set the heart ablaze? …Too far? Got it.”

– “Would it be too much if I put your name in lights? Or not enough?”

⭑.ᐟ She’d be extra gentle and overly concerned at times, to the point of being funny. She’d fidget nervously, constantly checking in. She’s worried about getting it too wrong.

– “Are you sure you’re okay with this? I mean it’s cool, it’s chill, but like… you’re sure?”

⭑.ᐟ Super simplified decorations. After easing her anxieties, Jinx would decorate with a single balloon or one small banner just because she thinks it’s hilarious. She’d point at it dramatically, bragging about how she’s “reinventing minimalism”.

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would leave funny little notes in random spots to quietly show you she’s thinking about you.

inside your favorite book: “Reading? On your birthday? Wow, nerd alert. (Just kidding, keep being the smartest, cutest, book-loving babe ever.)”

by the light switch: “Every time you turn this light on, think about how you light up my life. Too cheesy? Deal with it, it’s your birthday!”

on a snack bag: “Munch away, birthday girl! Each bite makes you 10x more adorable. SCIENCE FACT.”

on the bathroom door: “Birthday bathroom breaks are scientifically proven to be 20% better than regular ones. FACT. Don’t ask how I know.”

The scientist behind the studies? None other than Jinx herself.

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would give you small gifts throughout the day instead of all at once. She’d say it’s a “drip-feed of love” to “keep the birthday vibes alive”.

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would plan something like an art date. She would take you to a hidden spot where you could graffiti together. She’d bring spray paints and help you come up with a tag that matches her monkey one.

⭑.ᐟ Jinx might quietly admire you during the day, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with her feelings for you.

– “Y’know, I like this. Just us. You’re kinda… everything.”

⭑.ᐟ If you wanted to stay in, she wouldn’t mind just spending the day relaxing together in her hideout. She’d insist on building a “birthday pillow fort” and filling it with snacks, blankets, and fairy lights, creating a cozy little haven.

– “Just you, me, and some snacks. It’s a date. A birthday date!”

⭑.ᐟ Well, it was a date until Isha felt left out and peeked her head out from the entrance, which made you promptly pull her into the pillow fort.

⭑.ᐟ Jinx would focus on spending uninterrupted time with you—talking, laughing, and just enjoying the day together. She’d cherish the calm moments, even if it’s not her usual speed. She might actually enjoy the slower pace, realizing it gives her more time to focus on you.

– “This is nice. I don’t gotta share you with anyone else today. Well, except short stack over here.”

⭑.ᐟ Since you don’t want anything big, Jinx would ditch the giant cake and instead stick a candle in a cupcake, donut, or even a sandwich.

⭑.ᐟ If you’re worried about Jinx not having fun with a quiet birthday, she would quickly shut that down.

– “What, me? Bored? Nah, babe. I’d sit in total silence if it meant hanging out with you.”

⭑.ᐟ By the end of the day, Jinx would be extra soft and sentimental, realizing she doesn’t need a big party to make you happy.

– “I don’t care what we do, as long as it’s with you.”

── .✦ birthday girl!reader who hates birthdays

⭑.ᐟ Initially, Jinx would be thrown off guard—she would be baffled. Expect a lot of teasing questions and remarks to test your boundaries or to try to make you laugh, diffusing the tension of the day.

– “What did birthdays ever do to you? Did a balloon pop in your face as a kid? Was there a cake betrayal I need to know about?”

– “If you hate birthdays, does that mean I don’t get to wear a party hat? Because I look really good in a party hat.”

– “What do you call someone who hates birthdays? You! Wait, no, seriously—is there a word for that? Birth-a-phobic? Cake-averse? Anti-balloonian?”

– “What do you want to do on your birthday? Oh wait—you probably want to boycott it. My bad.”

– “Can I still blow up balloons? Asking for a very sneaky clown.”

– “So, if we can’t celebrate your birthday, can I just celebrate mine again?”

– “What’s worse: hating birthdays or admitting it to someone like me? I mean, now I have to mess with you.”

⭑.ᐟ If you opened up about why you hated birthdays, she would actually listen and try to understand. She would struggle at first but ultimately stick to your wishes. She will try to come up with other ideas to make you feel cared about regardless.

⭑.ᐟ She would leave a card that says: “This is NOT a birthday card. It’s just me reminding you that you’re the coolest person ever. Luv, Jinx.”

⭑.ᐟ Subtle “not birthday” gestures. Jinx would sneak in small, low-key things to make you smile without drawing attention to the day. She would spend the entire day being extra affectionate without outright acknowledging your birthday.

Random hugs.

Leaving little flowers on the table without saying a word.

Bringing you your favorite drinks or snacks, then casually walking away like it’s no big deal.

Leaving a tiny, heartfelt note that says, “I love you every day, not just today.”

⭑.ᐟ However, it would be hard for her not to be suspicious at times. She would quietly slip a thoughtful little gift into your bag with a note that says, “Not a birthday present. Just because.”

⭑.ᐟ Accidental overstepping happens. Jinx might slip up and do something mildly celebratory out of habit, like throwing confetti or humming the birthday tune. If you got upset, she would immediately backtrack.

– “Wait, wait, wait—don’t be mad! It’s not a birthday thing! It’s just… a ‘you’ thing!”

⭑.ᐟ While you cuddle in bed at the end of the day, Jinx can’t help herself from wishing you a happy birthday but in a safe way.

– “You hate birthdays, but I love you. So, thanks for being born. Even if you hate me saying it.”

[azrielbrainrot]

My Body Keeps Saying it's Yours

Pairing: Rhysand x Reader

Description: Some foolish males try to seduce you and Rhysand decides to show them who you belong to.

Warnings: Smut, Exhibitionism, Slight Dom/Sub dynamic, Abuse of power, Darker themes (not that much but just to be safe)

Word Count: 4304

Rating: 18+

Notes: This is just smut, couldn't get Rhys off my mind and this happened. Also I'm terrible with titles I'm so sorry. Enjoy!

You were making your way to your husband's office slowly. It wasn't that unusual for Rhys to ask you to come to his office in the middle of the day, you've shown up out of the blue so many times, for reasons as simple as finding a nice place for a nap or for a quickie on his desk, but something about the tone of his voice has you a bit nervous to find out what he's up to today.

Your suspicions are proven true when you open the door to find two males sitting on the sofa in the corner of his office, tied up in chains and, from the looks of it, under some sort of silencing spell, as they kept opening and closing their mouths to no avail, not being able to make a single sound. Their eyes were open wide in fear, almost begging you with their expression to help them.

You look back to your husband for an explanation but you find him sitting at his desk with a serene smile on his face, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. After a few moments of seeing you frozen in the middle of the office looking between the sofa and him, Rhys finally gets up, walking around his desk to stand in front of you.

“Welcome, my love.” He bends down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, still acting like this is a completely normal occurrence. At this proximity, you can, however, make out a glint in his violet eyes, one you know too well, one that promises trouble.

“What are they doing here, Rhys?” He merely keeps smiling down at you, running his thumb over your plush bottom lip. “What's going on?”

“I've never thought of myself as particularly lenient,” he starts with a sigh and traces a path down your jaw to the column of your throat, then wraps his hand fully around your neck, not pressing down, just holding you possessively, “but it seems some people still need to be reminded not to covet my things.” The new information has you frowning, looking back at the tied up males to try to make sense of it. “We're going to show them exactly who you belong to, darling.”

You remember now. These two males were invited to a banquet up in the House of Wind last weekend, just like so many of the more notable merchants in Velaris were. The economy in the city was thriving and Rhys thought it would be a good idea to celebrate the fae working hard to make that happen. The party lasted almost all night, which was to be expected in Velaris. Towards the end of the night, while Rhys followed through with his duties and entertained everyone in the room, you sneaked off to a quieter place for a moment to unwind. Azriel had sneaked off hours ago so you decided it was only fair that you got a break as well.

Unfortunately, two males, the ones present, had gotten too drunk or were just incredibly dumb and decided it was a good idea to try to seduce you, their High Lord's wife, in his own house. You tried not to cause a scene at the time, only slapping one of them and leaving Cassian to throw them out, but when you got back to the party, Rhys had immediately knocked at your mental walls to see what happened. You managed to convince him not to ruin the night for everyone and calm him down, showing him they hadn't actually done anything besides a few crude remarks.

Later that night, he had made it up to you, even apologizing for letting this happen. Of course you told him it wasn't his fault but you should have known your scheming High Lord wouldn't leave things at that. With a sigh you open your mind to him so hopefully he can show you what's going through his.

Do you trust me, darling? You'd be offended he even had to ask if you weren't so apprehensive about this situation. Every time you think you have a good read on his thoughts, he surprises you.

With anything. His answering smirk almost has you wishing to take the words back. He leans back against the edge of the desk, never breaking eye contact, and pulls you with him by your waist. Dropping a soft kiss to your lips, a kiss you know the meaning of too well. It's a reminder of sorts, of how much he loves you.

Your eyes move from his to the cowering males still tied up on the sofa. You have a feeling you know what he's about to do, what he wants to show them but you've never had an audience before. You can't help the anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

Do you want me to stop? You bite your lip and look back at him. You've never really thought about the possibility of anyone watching you in such a compromising position, but you don't think you're opposed to it at all. They won't do anything more than watch and you know Rhys will fix this if it all goes wrong anyway, one way or another.

No.

The look on his face as he leans down to kiss you again should be illegal, satisfaction and anticipation glowing beautifully on his features. This time there's nothing chaste about the kiss, it's nothing short of passionate. He's unhurried in his movements, letting himself taste you properly. I need you to be good for me now.

Breaking away from the consuming kiss, Rhys pushes you off him carefully to pick up one of the chairs by his desk. He carries it to the middle of the room and sets it back down so the confused males have a great view of it, sitting on it with spread legs, like a king on his throne.

He looks over to where you're standing and holds out a hand, you take it without hesitation, letting him guide you until you're standing in between his legs, with your back to them. You look down to his lap, taking notice of the bulge already waiting for you. He holds onto your waist to get your attention back on him.

“Take everything off first, my love.” You'd probably jump off the window to your left if he asked it in that tone of voice of his. You kick your shoes off first, slowly, while looking straight into his eyes. You know he has the power in this situation but you can't help but tease him at least a little, it'd be no fun if you just followed his every word blindly. He raises an eyebrow at the delay but he knows you too well, knows you don't really mean it.

The simple black dress drops to the floor soon after, leaving you only in your violet lacy panties. He seemed pleased at your choice, reaching out a hand to run his fingers over the hem of your undergarments. You thought he would be when you bought them, you just never imagined anyone else would see them. You suppose they help the point he's trying to make - a happy coincidence.

“I said everything.” You hook both your thumbs on each side of the panties and drag them down your legs slowly, making a show of bending down, letting your chest fall right into his line of sight. As you hear a gasp behind you, you remember they're also getting a show. The thought has you wanting to play into Rhys' idea even more, show them you'd never think of letting them touch you.

“Should I throw this at them?” You taunt as you dangle the piece of fabric from your index finger.

“No,” he reaches out for it and puts it in his pocket, “They don't get to smell how wet you are for me.” His words make you realize that you can't smell them at all, Rhys put up a shield between you. The possessive bastard.

“What will you have me do now, High Lord?” You know all too well exactly what he wants. Still, hearing him order you through it sounds delicious.

“On your knees, darling,” his smirk deepens when you obey immediately, “Take me out. Show them what you can do to me.”

You can see the imprint of his throbbing cock through his trousers. Not being able to resist playing with him a little you gather your hair to one side of your face and look up at him with doe eyes before leaning down to lick his erection through his pants, leaving an open mouthed kiss on the tip.

He hisses and grabs onto your hair, pulling your head away to look into your eyes. A warning. You try to fight your smile by biting your lip. You love when he gives you warnings.

Luckily for him, you can't wait to feel him in your mouth. You're also committed to showing the disrespectful males what they won't ever be deserving of. Reaching out for his trousers, you make quick work of the buttons holding them close. Pulling them and his underwear down enough to let his cock slap back to his stomach, looking painfully hard and absolutely delicious.

You grab onto it, feeling its familiar weight in your hand before wrapping your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around, tasting him. You pull back just to hear him growl and lick up a stripe up his length with a smile. Gods, he's going to wreck you tonight.

Taking him back into your mouth, you start taking as much of him as you can, getting lower with each bob of your head, sucking harder, tightening your hand at the base, just the way you know he likes. His hand tangles back in your hair, softer now. Almost petting your head and caressing your cheek tenderly as he watches you.

“Just like that,” he moans out, “Isn't she absolutely breathtaking?” His heavy lidded gaze moves from the exquisite view of your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock to the sorry excuses of males that dared to think they could take you from him. “Such a shame you won't ever get to feel her perfect mouth on you. Let me tell you, boys,” his gaze moves back to you, knowing the praise will get to your head, “It feels like heaven, hell and everything in between.”

You take him deeper in response, determined to get everything into your mouth. He rakes his fingers through your scalp and throws his head back in a breathless moan, letting himself get lost in the pleasure, forgetting the show momentarily. His hips start thrusting into your mouth, slowly at first to let you get adjusted but, when it's clear you can take it, he holds onto your hair tighter and takes over, fucking your throat with slow, deep thrusts.

You start to feel your arousal dripping down to your thighs. It seems you enjoy the spectators more than you thought you would, you don't remember the last time you were this wet without even being touched. Reaching a hand down your body, you gather some of your slick and bring it up, circling your clit in small motions, taking some of the edge off, moaning softly.

“Sucking my cock got you that needy?” He can try to tease you as much as he can but you can tell his voice is strained, he's getting close. Being watched is getting to him too, but it's the confirming moan you let out around his cock and whatever picture he finds in your open mind that has him moaning out your name and speeding up, uncaring of the slight choking noises erupting from you, cumming down your throat not long after.

He keeps thrusting into you slowly as he rides his orgasm out, mumbling mindless praise while stroking your head. After a few moments, he pulls you gently away from his sensitive cock and coos at you when you swallow the last bits of his cum without him even having to ask.

Rhys pulls you up and gives you a sloppy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. You wince slightly into his mouth as you take your likely bruised knees off the floor, moving up higher to sit across his lap so you can reach him better. Never breaking the passionate kiss, he starts caressing your sore knees, making you moan in contentment.

You're both lost in your own little world for a while, tasting and touching each other, but it seems like he remembered what you were there to do because he pulls away from you, smirking at the wrecked look on your face and the string of saliva connecting both your lips. You move back to suck his bottom lip into your mouth, licking the string connecting you away, drawing a breathless moan from his lips.

“We're being rude to our guests,” he says as he holds your hand up to his face, the still damp hand you had used to play with yourself before, and sucks the fingers into his mouth, moaning around them at your taste.

“You were the one who invited them.” As his tongue swirls around your digits, you can only think of the mind shattering pleasure he can bring you with that tongue. Your guests could keep watching or take a dive out the window for all you cared.

“And I promised them a show.” He takes your hand out of his mouth to speak and it brings a pout to your lips. It seems you won't get to feel his skilled mouth today. Later. You smile victoriously at the reassurance. So spoiled. That's your fault.

He smiles fondly at you before turning you around in his lap, leaning you back into his chest and spreading your legs over his, making you face said guests. Your eyes widen a bit at what you see, you hadn't looked their way since before you even took your clothes off. Being able to see them, with their faces morphed into awe and horror, and a noticeable bulge on their pants has a tiny glint of fear spark in your body.

Rhysand moves to reassure you as soon as he feels you tense, stroking your body tenderly and kissing your neck, whispering into your ear, “I'm right here.” You relax almost instantly, you don't have to worry about the consequences when you're with him. He wouldn't let either of them hurt you or even get close to you. “Let me take care of you.” You nod and relax further into him, letting him take over.

You let yourself wonder what you must look like in the males' eyes, spread over their High Lord, completely naked while he was fully clothed in his dark suit. One of his hands moves to rest on your stomach and the other grabs one of your legs, spreading them open even more so your guests can have a good look at your wet cunt, all for him.

“Having the privilege of watching is one you don't deserve,” he drops your leg, moving it over his so you can't close them even you wanted to, “But since you were brave enough to try to make a move on my wife,” he drags his hand from your stomach straight to where you need him most, playing around with the wetness, making you drop your head back into him with a soft moan, “It's only fair I show you exactly why you're not worthy of her.” Hearing him use his High Lord voice while he's taking care of you is making you tingly in all sorts of places.

After coating his fingers in your wetness, cursing softly at the amount he finds, he starts rubbing slow circles around your clit, just as you had done before. Letting you melt into him and become more malleable with each stroke.

“Do you hear that?” You open your eyes, not sure if he's talking to you or them but you get your answer when you see them nod with a terrified look on their faces. Seems like your husband got inside their minds. “That's all for me. All of this,” he pulls his hand away to show them the wetness clinging to his skin, connecting him to your pussy, “is mine.” You nudge your hips up, reminding him to keep giving you the attention you deserve after you did such a good job for him. He complies with a chuckle.

He speeds up his pace and moves one hand up to play with your nipples, teasing them just as he knows you like. When he starts tracing your neck with sloppy, open mouth kisses, biting you softly every so often, you realize he wants you to cum fast. You almost forgot he was trying to prove a point.

Your hips start chasing his hand, greedily wanting more. As you're moving back and forth, you can feel him already hard and ready for you again. This makes you moan louder and sink your nails into anything you can reach, one of those things being his arm.

“Want me to stop?” He purrs into your ear, slowing down slightly, pulling a growl out of you.

“Don't you dare.” You stab your nails deeper into his skin, smelling blood.

He just chuckles and picks back up the pace. Looking up to watch your guests squirming in their seats and, you assume, to fuck with their minds further. He widens his legs more, taking yours with his, baring you even more to them.

“I'm going to make her cum now,” you let out something between a whimper and a plea, “And when she does, I need you to hear exactly whose name she'll moan.”

True to his word, he speeds up again, touching you exactly how you need him to. You're really getting close, your moans start getting louder, a mix of his name and please escaping your parted lips, until the knot getting impossibly tighter breaks, washing you away in waves of ecstasy, pulling you under until you can't breathe.

It doesn't take you as long to come to, you weren't completely satisfied after all, he was intentionally neglecting your fluttering entrance. When you do, you notice he has moved his hand to cup your cunt. You almost think it's a way to cover you after the show is over but, as you notice the glint in his eyes as he's staring them on, you know it's a way to mark his claim even more.

“Rhysand.” You've played his game and you know the poor idiots more than got the message. You want him now.

“Tell me, darling.” He looks back to you, moving to kiss your neck, biting at the already fading marks he left earlier.

“Want you to fuck me.” He hums, still sucking around your neck, not giving you any indication that he'll follow through with your request.

“We have company.” What an infuriating time to start caring about the males sitting across from you.

“I don't care.” It seems like that was the answer he was looking for since he immediately turns you around and kisses you deeply. You can feel all the self control he was holding onto break as his kiss gets sloppier, more desperate. He stands up, lifting you up with him and walks to his desk, setting you down on the dark wood, devouring your mouth all the while. The room feels different around you and you don't have to look to know he let his power run untamed.

Urgency starts spreading inside you with each stroke of his tongue, moving to all but rip his clothes off him, needing to feel his body against your own, as close as physically possible. He breaks away from your mouth in favor of trailing kisses all over your chest, biting down on your nipples until you grab his hair and bring him back up to crash your lips against his once again.

You let your hand wander down his torso, running your nails just hard enough to leave red marks in their wake. Wasting no time, you grab onto his cock, giving him a few strokes so you can hear him moan into your mouth.

He pushes you down gently onto the desk, laying you down with no care for the important documents still scattered around it. He breathes out a curse as he holds onto your hips and watches your body sprawled before him, he knows he'll never tire of the sight. You take notice of the darkness that set itself in the room, you probably wouldn't even be able to see your guests through it. Not that you'd look away from him for anything right now.

Ever the tease, Rhys starts swirling the leaking head of his cock around your clit, playing with you before giving you what you want. He does this enough times that you were just about to snarl at him, but then he finally circles your entrance, pushing the head in slowly and bottoming out soon after, not being able to resist your sweet warmth.

The pace he sets is messy but you still try to meet him in his thrusts, you're both desperate, having only one thing in your minds. The hold he has on your hips is sure to bruise but he doesn't let up, and you keep begging him not to stop. You try to hold onto the desk, pushing some things to the floor, trying to keep a hold on your sanity as well. Your legs wrap around him, your body urging him to keep going. Not that he would ever dream of stopping.

You feel your orgasm reaching for you fast, screaming out his name in warning. He moves one hand to play with your clit once again, and it doesn't even take two thrusts before you're exploding around him. Your mind goes blank behind your eyes and you barely feel him cumming right after you, filling you up.

This time it takes you both longer to come back down to the world of the living. Mind blowing pleasure still teasing at every one of your nerve endings, your legs still shaking softly. You run your hand over your face before opening your eyes to catch him already staring down at you. He looks absolutely ruined. His hair is messy from both his hands and yours running through the dark locks, there were red marks all over his torso, down his hips and his arms, your marks. You don't have to see yourself to know you match his satiated expression.

Rhys helps you sit back up on the desk, wincing at the papers stuck to you and picking them off with a smile. Your muscles feel like soup but you still find the strength to hug him to you, leaving little kisses everywhere you can reach. You can't help but bite down on his collarbone when he pulls his spent cock out of you gently, burning with oversensitivity. He drops a kiss on your shoulder as an apology, wrapping one arm around you as well.

You're extremely uncomfortable sitting on the desk, you're probably ruining said desk with the cum dripping out of you too, but you refuse to move away from him. As you lean your head on his chest, almost purring at the way he's caressing your back, you look over to the tied up males, noticing they were unconscious.

“They've already seen enough,” he explains when he catches you looking. You simply hum in response, at this point you don't care if they also see you fuck him or hug him. It won't matter either way.

“You'll make them forget about it?” Your voice is scratchy from all the abuse your throat just endured, you could still feel him when you swallowed.

“Of course,” he nuzzles your hair, “Wouldn't want them to remember how beautiful you are with my cock in your mouth or screaming my name in pure pleasure.” The reminder has your thighs clenching. Gods, this male makes you insatiable.

“Was that all for nothing then?” You move back enough to look into his eyes, not resisting giving him a soft kiss.

“Not for nothing,” he pecks your lips again before giving you an impish grin. “Do you realize how hard you just came?” Your body somehow still has the energy to blush a little at his words.

“That's not what I meant.” You roll your eyes slowly, pouting a little. If he makes them forget about this whole situation, they won't learn their lesson. You hope they're not dumb enough to try hitting on you twice but if they did there was nothing you could do to save them from spending the rest of their days in Azriel's dungeons, you probably wouldn't even want to try to help them.

“I'll leave some of our previous talk intact. They can't forget who you belong to.” He looks over to the males with a serious look on his face, seems he's still on the fence about letting them go so easily. Being High Lord must be hard sometimes, having to be the voice of reason. “I'll let them remember how easily I could toy with their minds and have them think the rest was a nightmare.”

“And you're not worried about what your people would think if they knew how mean you can be?” You wrap your arms around his neck again, pulling him closer, always needing him closer.

“As long as you still love me, darling,” he kisses your forehead before leaning back to smile down at you, “I don't care what anyone else thinks of me.”

[yourmoonie]

DEALING WITH DOUBTS

Intro:

When doubts, fears, or anxiety arise, don’t fight with them or think that it is a dead-end. Instead, acknowledge them with gratitude. Recognize that fears are trying to protect you, doubts can motivate growth, and impatience signals your eagerness for good things. Invite your fears to wonder, -> "What if success is close?" Let doubts challenge limits and turn impatience into excitement for what’s coming. Rather than resisting old beliefs, shift your view on these emotions, give them a new purpose, and trust your intuition.

1. Shifting your POV

Instead of seeing doubts as barriers, let’s view them as part of our growth. When doubts pop up, it's because something within us wants reassurance or clarity. It’s a signal, not a dead-end. Now stay with me

2. UNDERSTANDING WHY IT APPEARS

Doubts don’t just appear for no reason; they’re often tied to past experiences or beliefs

Doubt -> an underlying cause -> why It appears -> how to reframe It -> moving forward

3. DONT FIGHT WITH YOURSELF

Doubts can actually help us to question, refine, & build more solid beliefs

Each doubt that you move through gives you a deeper trust in yourself. Like a good friend who’s honest with you, doubts can be useful if you listen, learn, and grow beyond them

The example:

✨️THE DOUBT: What if I am not good enough to get my SP's attention

✨️ LISTEN: Hear the doubt as f it's a friend being honest, pointing out where you might feel insecure.

✨️ LEARN: Ask yourself why this feeling exists. Maybe it's tied to a belief about self-worth.

✨️ GROW BEYOND: Use this awareness to focus on building confidence and self-love, reminding yourself that you're worthy and valuable just as you are

✨️ RESULT: Instead of letting the doubt hold you back, you're using it as a push to strengthen your self-image

4. PICK & CHOOSE

After acknowledging & understanding doubts, it’s time to release them

Imagine each doubt as a passing cloud

You notice it, see what it’s about, and then watch it drift away. You don’t have to cling to every thought

Choose which ones you want to keep

5. REMIND YOURSELF OF YOUR TRUTH

When a doubt comes up, gently remind yourself of your truth

Let’s say you doubt if you’re capable of achieving your desire

You could say, “I trust my ability to manifest & I trust myself”

It’s not about forcing the doubt away but bringing yourself back to your inner belief

6. Appreciating them & letting them go

The next time you catch yourself doubting, try saying, “Thank you for showing me what I need to work on.” This way, you honor the doubt but also make a conscious decision to not hold onto it. Acknowledging it without fear takes away its power over you

7. TODAY'S LESSONS

So today, we learned to:

✅️ To acknowledge the doubts without fearing them

✅️ Appreciate what they teach us

✅️ Letting them go and refocusing on the truth

Doubts don’t have to control you. They can be gentle reminders to dig deeper into your own strength

Trust that you’re on the right path

Some ground techniques for you:

Mindfulness Exercise (My favorite):

When doubts or overwhelm arise, bring yourself back to the present moment. Count your fingers, look around, and connect with your surroundings. Remind yourself that you exist in this moment, and that the thoughts passing through your mind aren’t truly you. Let these thoughts drift by and rest in the knowing that everything is working out in your favor.

Energetic Grounding Exercise (Another favorite):

✨ Start by sitting comfortably in a chair. Visualize roots, cords, or chains extending from your feet deep into the earth and from your base chakra. Feel as though you’re solidly anchored, like a tripod.

✨ Then, imagine a rope or pillar of light entering your crown chakra. This light can be any color that feels healing and powerful for you. See it flow through your body, traveling from your head to your feet, passing through each chakra.

✨ Declare out loud that you are grounded to the earth. Visualize toxins and negativity releasing through the roots into the soil, where they are transformed into energy. Allow the crown chakra connection to draw in healing energy that flows throughout your being.

This practice can help you feel centered, calm, and aligned with positive energy.

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (part 10)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds 📍 Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smutty💦

Part 10 Good Deeds

Alastor takes you out as promised, but work/hobbies call him away. Not that you mind, you have your own hobbies to pick up.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, references to racial violence, reference to a word that’s now very much a slur, Hate for Aubrey, inaccurate portrayal of how easy it was to drink, oh yeah murder, mentions of a dismembered body, bloody shoes, physics hijinks with a corpse, these idiots in love, gators aaaaaye baby, domestic fluff?? Kind of?? Did I do it?!」

I think about Emmett Till often. Though his heinous murder came after the time this story is set, what happened to him wasn’t an isolated incident. So it is referenced here in a sense, because I can’t stop thinking about him when I think about racial violence in the south both what it looked like before and what it looks like now. I don’t say anything explicit and change the act, but it is still important to warn you. If you don’t know about the tragic death of Emmett, here’s a site with links to articles and essays. Be careful, it is awful and his deceased and battered face will come up on some links, as his mother wanted the world to see what they did to her baby. It’s an image I cannot forget and I rightfully shouldn’t. I know it’s off to have such a heavy topic before this love story but this case is the kind that would motivate such a killer as Alastor, and I don’t want to miss an opportunity to remind us of Emmett’s short life even if it’s done in a silly fanfic surrounded by nonsense. So forgive me for perhaps an odd real life addition, I’d be disappointed in myself for not addressing it when Emmett has been on my mind every time I think about the era someone like Alastor could have lived in. An era that did exist and people did live and suffer in.  An era not far removed from us, my father was alive when this happened.

Part 10 - Good Deeds

minors if you interact I will interpret that as a deep hate for me as a person so MDNI 👌🏼

“I’ve got to speak with the valet, go on ahead and find a table you like.” 

You didn’t want to do that at all, but knew Alastor wouldn’t ask if he didn’t want it. Well, he didn’t really ask, did he? He was certainly in his element, the shining and towering hotel every bit as pristine as his own public image.

It was as if every head in the room spun around to look at you. Everyone’s hair freshly styled, jewelry shiny and heavy, clothes immaculate. Your dress was lovely, no doubt, but no one looks at the elephant in her tutu at the circus and proclaims, “A ballerina!” This was, rather obviously, not your scene.

Alastor had presented the dress to you so sweetly, though. You woke up to find it hanging on the closet door hook, the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. He had either waited for you to fall asleep to hang it or woken up before you for just the reason. It was red, his favorite color for you. The latest fashion, loose and straight. No corset. The neckline showcased a large, flat bow. 

“Partly a gift for me,” he had said as his hands slid down your sides when you had gotten dressed, “Such softness shouldn’t be hidden behind rigid boning.”

You settled into a large seashell shaped booth, the back coming up and over like you were the speck of sand yet to form into a pearl. The table was small, a glittering pattern under its shiny veneer. Everything was…glistening. Even the darkness past the windows seemed to be sparkling back at you. A few people turned to look you up and down, smiling and beginning to speak to their group before even turning back to them. 

You could wither, or bloom. So you learned back as if you were bored, legs crossed and feet gently shaking with anxiety or boredom, you hoped no one could sus out which. 

It was so odd. In your usual haunts, newcomers were greeted with curious smiles and maybe the tiniest suspicions. You were being picked apart to the bone by sharp stares and even sharper tongues, no matter how silent their jabs were to you. 

“They’re probably jealous.” Your head snapped up, when had Alastor made it in? “They look at you and know, ‘oh, that’s the kind of woman my husband would rather have a conversation with.’” You laughed, you absolutely could have stolen the attention and more from at least one of these women’s husbands.

“Perhaps they recognize these earrings, gone missing from their jewelry box earlier this year.”  You weren’t above accepting a woman’s stolen jewelry. It was her husband's fault anyway, might as well enjoy it. 

Alastor’s finger came to your chin, lifting your face further into the light, “Give em a good look, darling. I want them to eat their hearts out.” The blush that swept across your features was so fierce, the difference in temperature between your cheeks and your arms caused a chill to run down to your shins. He took a seat beside you, scooting up close and flashing that smile. A smile that had you chasing him into dark alleys and grabbing dead men by the ankles. 

A waiter came by, placing a drink in front of Alastor and asking what you’d like. You were so used to being in such spaces with the kind of men who answered for you that you didn’t reply immediately. When Alastor brought his drink to his lips, you realized it was you who was expected to speak. 

“Oh! A corpse reviver please.”

The man smiled and left with a nod. Alastor choked, hitting his chest with the fleshy part of his palm, “That was intentional, wasn’t it?”

You danced in your seat, “I’ve never been somewhere that has the stock for it that I was…allowed to order what I want.”

Alastor set his drink down and leaned back, shoulder pressing into yours teasingly, “I can’t imagine anyone disallowing you a thing.” With a sigh, you reminded him of the things you did to get your marks drunk and off their guard. You were surprised when he nodded like he remembered. ��I saw that! You would sit so quietly on their laps. I remember thinking you were much more boring than you had initially made me believe.” You recoiled, and he shot you a look, “Who stalked who first, hm?” 

With a huff, you let it go. You weren’t actually sure the answer to that anyway. Focus let free from Alastor, you began to notice the looks were back. But no longer cutting into you, but wide and devouring. A few smiled at Alastor, some tipped their heads to him and offered a look of recognition. “Aren’t you popular.”

“I haven’t been out in awhile. They’re probably curious.” He took another sip, “Should be, atleast.”

A prideful smile slid up your face. You uselessly tried to mask it by licking your teeth. 

Something that happened when in public with Alastor that was unlike you was the tendency to become small. Not shrinking to provide him space; it was a turning in of your shoulders and touching of your knees in a subconscious effort to curl into a little ball of joy. Actively fighting the tug, you leaned back and opened your chest. An exercise in mental focus. 

“It’s weird. How you can be friends with my kind of people and….well, whatever is happening here.” Your hand waved at the room before you both. 

“My friendship with these people compared to our friends at the dives is…. A light bulb compared to a fire. One was manufactured to fit a need, one exists somewhat naturally.”

Tall and slim, body flat from collar bones to knees, a slip of a woman entered the room and you felt a shift in the atmosphere. Her hair was short and pitch black, fashionable to say the least. A few heads turned, a few upturned lips shifted into sneers. Side glances, hushed words, intentionally heard huffs. You turned to Alastor to find his face was as confused as your own. 

“Who is that?” You said it low, not knowing if she was friend or foe. 

“That would be Mrs. Aubrey Debreaux. Popular socialite and frequent hostess.” A sip of his drink, speaking about her like a character in a novel. “This icy reception is news to me though. She’s usually the life of the party.”

“She’s a real wet blanket now…Your circles seem really fickle. Always a bit of gossip.” You realized as soon as you said it that, well, that was the point. Alastor needed the gossip, and, well, he clearly enjoyed it.

“That’s what the wealthy do. Gossip and pretend the drama is as stressful as someone looking for their next meal.” Swirling his drink absentmindedly, his eyes followed Aubrey through the hotel bar. When you asked if he knew everyone there, he said it was his job to know people.

“Your job is in radio. You host a show, Alastor.” You laughed through your nose.

“Well, my other job.”

“I’d call that a passionate hobby.” Your hand came to rest half on his and half on the booth bench low and hidden, not wanting to monopolize, but he quickly took it and held it on the table. Another struggle to keep your shoulders from drawing inward.

The room moved on, forgetting you both were there and eventually about Aubrey too. Or so you had thought. When you drink was starting to mellow you, you turned to Alastor to admire the view. You’d come to enjoy that silence, the kind that only existed between people comfortable enough to know they didn’t need to entertain each other to enjoy each other’s company.

He was scanning the bar still, elbow on the table as he rested his chin there. From a distance of space or familiarity it could be seen as boredom. But up close and personal, you could see the wheels spinning behind his eyes.

“Golly, when in Rome!” Alastor hooted and grabbed you by the hand with one of his and carried his drink in the other, “Let’s go gossip. Bring your drink.”

He pulled you into a group of four people in a circle talking. They opened and let you both in, smiles warm. A clamor of excited ‘how long has it been’s, ‘how are you’s, and ‘you look well’s.

You’d expected him to ask for gossip like he’d said, but realized that’d be pretty conspicuous. Instead he waited, and when Aubrey passed by one of them rolled their eyes and he had his opportunity.

“What’s that look for?” He asked. 

Everyone got quiet and passed a glance between them. Finally a woman in a beaded dress and finger wave bob piped up.

“She reported a young boy touched her on the street.” Alastor watched Aubrey cycle through the groups as the friend spoke. “Grazed her hip with his hands, made a comment about white women as he did it.”

Alastor’s head whipped back around. “He got taken away that night.”

You gasped, hand coming to your mouth in sincere horror, “Just for touching her? Is he still in jail?” 

The woman’s lips pursed together, no one looking at you.

“Bless your heart. He didn’t touch her and he didn’t make it to the jailhouse, sugar.”

Suddenly the way everyone was looking everywhere but at each other sunk in. 

Panicked, you looked to Alastor. His expression was still, like the calm waters of a deep and foreboding bay. What horrors lie underneath? His tongue wiped across his teeth, and you reached out to take his drink from his hand. The action snapped him out of his daze for a second, expression softening a tad as he nodded a thank you.

If he shattered that glass now, people would remember. And when Aubrey went missing they may recall Alastor’s dramatic reaction. You knew his smiles intimately, the ones that were true and the ones that were illusions. The expressions of joy and the mask for his rage. The smile painted on his face now was nothing short of shallow.

You spent so many days in a bubble with Alastor, shielded by his grace or by the accepting and illegal circles you ran in that you sometimes forgot the reality of life. A dark privilege you hadn’t seen until you were the one looking naive for once. 

That’s right. The world was a bad place, of cruelty and injustice. Not just for you, or for parts of you, or for sides of you. Not just for women with smart mouths or a love of dance. No matter how safe the comfort of your friends and the dark halls you all commiserate in, no matter the like minds and mixed complexions of your peers, you were all just one cruel voice from being dragged into the night. Just a single accusation from being a whispered story in a glittering hotel bar. A headline no one would write. 

And some of you would be mourned more than others. 

You took a second, blinking rapidly to dry your eyes. 

“Apparently, she did it to get Hubert to leave his mistress’s apartment and come home.” A short man whose name you never got took a drag of his cigarette, “Worked. He’s been yapping all week about the state of New Orleans society and the importance of protecting the fairer among us.”

Alastor was quiet still, lips tight. You’d seen the photos in his home. You’d never discussed it, no need. Things can’t become normal if you’re always pointing them out. Plus, that was his piece to share. 

“Glad to see most of us here aren’t too keen to welcome her. I’d hate to have to find another bar.” Someone said, glancing around the room. “George just started making my martinis right.”

“Care to dance?” Alastor abruptly turned his entire body to you with a slick swivel on his heels.

You nodded, offering small polite goodbyes and setting your drinks back on the table before turning to him.

His open palm was outstretched and offering you a dance. You spread your hand over his and felt him hold you firmly before pulling you into him. 

He held you so close, much closer than anyone else on the dance floor. A scandalous lack of distance between you two. Quiet, Alastor’s eyes were distant. You were in front of him but he wasn’t seeing you. You let the song carry on a little longer for appearances before sighing into a smile.

“Why are we dancing when you have work to do? You have your tools.” Looking up at a man was rarely a view you enjoyed but the way his eyes slid down his nose and landed so sharply on you made it worth it. A look that said he’d devour you if he didn’t adore you so much. Your hand snaked behind his back to touch the hidden outline of this trusty little knife. He briefly wondered if this could be considered foreplay, the way he felt your hand on his lower back and running over his weapon. Much more intimate than he’d ever let anyone else be.

As your bodies swayed, the lights slid across the curve of his eyes and lit that bright honey brown color like a diamond twirling in the sun. The facets of his irises mesmerizing you. 

How terribly did you love him? 

How far would you fall for him?

“This would be a long one. You’d be waiting… could be a couple of hours. I need to be out of sight before she leaves.” A chill. Oh, you’d forgotten for a second, Alastor was a killer. He didn’t do it for ‘justice’ alone, he enjoyed what he did. Immensely. His voice had a note of giddiness and anger that didn’t mix well, but was oddly arousing. 

“Correction, I’d be dancing for hours. Drinking. Letting handsome men waste their money on me.” 

“Oh? Can they buy me a drink, too?”

You brought up your pointer finger, “You remind her of her humanity, and I’ll get a man to buy you a drink.” 

He linked his finger with yours. “I’ll need to give her special attention. She’s earned it.”

You loosely understood this wasn’t attention like you’d be given. This was attention that ran opposite affection. 

“I’m not here to be in your way, Alastor.” A quick kiss to your hand, one you hoped no one else saw. While no one here would be bothered by Brady, you still wanted to keep some semblance of confusion on what you two were to onlookers. 

His laugh was louder than you expected, a few heads turning, “Impossible. I’m always going wherever you are, dear.”

Would you never get up again?

“I’ll stay at the bar. If they close, I’ll just go to Beth’s.” Your fingers lingered in his, “Be careful. The best good deeds are done in the dark.”

A kiss to your nose. So gentle despite the topic. You could imagine it, the violent death of a woman. You could hear the sounds. Hers, his, the knife’s. A pang of guilt set in before you could remind yourself why this woman was going to die. A tiny smile settled on your face, he offered you a gentle command in return, “Understood, honey. Be safe.” 

You let him kiss your hand again and bow out of  the dance. You were doing it, it dawned on you as you watched him walk away. Truly kissing him goodbye at the door as he went off to work. The closest you’d ever gotten, atleast. 

He stopped by a group and said some quick goodbyes, apologies for leaving early, and left the hotel bar. 

You knew he had killed women before, Alastor was all for equality, but a part of you worried. Women tend to scream louder, and be heard more often, than men. A man screams and people just…keep walking. What would he do? Where would he do it?

With a sniffle, you let the jealousy of just what he would need to do to get her alone flutter away. Taking a seat back at your table, you sipped your drink and watched the others dance and chat. How odd, they could sway in such large places with big windows and bright lights with no fear of cops. Your scenes were dark, dusty, never seeing the sky. 

“He left ya?” One of the earlier women came by, someone you vaguely remember him nodding a ‘hello’ to at some point in the evening. 

Thankfully you were still quick on your feet. “Well, we came separately, of course we’d leave separately.”

A laughed, “Of course.” She leaned down, touching at your hair for a second, curiously, “Don’t hold your breath. But, it is nice he got you in here, huh? Must be a treat for you.” 

Your own laugh was just as abrupt as Alastor’s earlier, your hand coming to hide your smile. All you could muster was a nod. Yes, you stood out. Yes, you didn’t fit in with these people for many reasons. But, it wasn’t your first time in nice spaces. First time not pressed into a man who’d been made to believe he was more important the whole time, but still. 

It took two more drinks for Aubrey to leave. But there was a problem. As she was trying to bow out of the room, a man kept hooking his fingers under the loose belt of her boxy drop waist dress.

With practiced skill, you took note of where her eyes lingered on him, how her hand came to his arm but didn’t actually press him away. Not earnestly.

The pushy man saw it too, every little soft ‘no’ was a half ‘yes’. And Aubrey seemed to like that. It was almost ironic, given what she had done, how she egged on the younger man before her now by pretending she didn’t want him. His hand landed on her hip forcefully, her hand on his chest gingerly. He leaned in close, she pulled away barely.

The next act was the most classic to women of your era. The false exit.

Aubrey whispered something, he nodded eagerly and his many hands returned to himself.

She smiled at the back of everyone’s heads, as nearly no one would look her way, and she slipped out the doors.

You couldn’t stop yourself from shimmying as you slid from your booth. Barely a step away, you leaned back and grabbed the last sip in your glass. You swished it around your mouth like listerine, and swallowed it. Before you got too close, you pinched your cheeks until your eyes began to water.

You’d just found a way to make yourself useful.

“Whoopsie Daisy!” You giggled, shoulder colliding with the man’s chest as you stumbled past.

“Watch - ooh, hey,” the free hand that had come to keep you from getting closer quickly softened, curling around your waist. The same hand that’d just been on the socialite. You were sure to look up and sigh into him, your breath soaked in alcohol. “You okay, doll? Had a bit too much?”

With glassy eyes you nodded, closing them and letting your head nod lazily, “I lost my thing!” You laughed, hitting his chest.

“Your what? I happen to be a thing.” 

How quickly he forgot his target when easier to pick fruit appeared.

“No, silly!” A practiced hiccup, “my little…”

“Your little…?”

Your fingers wiggled in the direction of your hip.

“Purse!” A beaming grin. He asked if you needed help finding it. “Well, how else am I gonna get another drink!” The hand on your waist fell to your hip and slunk lower. 

“Oh well, I could help ya with that.” He leaned in, looking around first as if he had a secret, “I have a room upstairs.”

You tutted, “No no, I am a married woman!” He lifted your left hand, turning it over in a dramatic search for a ring. “Well, engaged…” you diverted your gaze. He lifted his hand to his brow then and scanned the room like a sailor to the horizon. “He’s working late.” You whined.

Why did his kind of man always want the taken woman? Did they think the chase was more meaningful then? Did they feel like they’d won some tug-of-war with an invisible, unaware opponent?

Maybe they were hardwired to hoard resources.

You let him seat you at the bar, and when he ordered you a drink you asked to know your savior’s name. William.

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Alastor was none the wiser, smoking a cigarette under the streetlamp just off to the side of the hotel awning. He didn’t smoke often before you, but he found the lure of sitting on the porch passing a pill between you both too hard to fight. And soon enough the habit grew from a drinking pastime to just… something to do with his hands.

As Aubrey appeared, waiting for her driver to retrieve the car, Alastor tossed the butt to the street and walked up on her.

“I’m quite cross with you, Aubrey.” His tone was smiling as his hand slid behind her neck and tugged her away from the safety and lights of the awning.

“Oh! Alastor, I’m actually waiting for my car.” She struggled to keep up with his pace in her heels, weakly pointing back to where the valet had stood earlier. She resisted a little, the palm on the nape of her neck silently shutting her down.

“Nonsense. We have business together.” Alastor let his hand fall to her upper arm as he yanked her into the closest side street. “I hear you’ve been a very bad girl.”

Aubrey huffed, pulling back against him once, then twice, but ultimately acquiesced when she could see his car down the street.

“Fine, you can drive me home then.” A misplaced giggle, her survival skills dulled by ego.

He tossed her roughly against the car, hand gripping her face tightly. She tried to say his name, but his hold was so firm her jaw was locked.

“You’re going to get into my car now.” Alastor’s eyes had lost their pupil, an expanse of a seemingly endless dark brown in the heavy shadows left by the lamp’s light. When he let her face go, she rolled her eyes and pulled open the back seat door.

That wasn’t what he had meant, not there, but he closed the door behind her and got into the driver’s seat. He hadn’t brought the tarp tonight, not expecting to need it, so maybe the backseat was his best option regardless.

When he pulled away, she reminded him he didn’t know her address.

“I’m not taking you home. I told you. I have a bone to pick with you.” Alastor found himself incapable of putting on a ruse for her. His patience was entirely lost in his unraveling anger.

“Oooh? A bone, you say. Well, well.” Aubrey leaned forward onto the front seat, hands snaking down his shoulders and chest so she could nip at his ear, “Finally letting me have a ride.”

He had to set his right hand in the darkness of his lap to hide the tremble, a disgusted rage manifesting in uncommon ways. 

As her fingers found the buttons of his waist coat, Alastor struggled to see the road in front of him. His vision was going white, and then red. His blood pressure was so high he was nearly blind. 

And when two hot fingers broached the small space between buttons of his dress shirt and touched the bare skin of his chest, the car came to an abrupt halt. The force threw her into the backseat. 

Alastor slammed the front seat door shut before opening the back and caging her in. “I can’t stand another second of your existence.” She crawled backward, making room for him. “I’m going to fucking kill you.” 

Aubrey settled her back against the opposite door, “Oh, the petit mort.”

His head hung low in frustration, a growled  “No, the big one.” as he raked his fingers through his hair to keep from punching his own car seat.

“So I’ve heard.” She pulled up the hem of her dress slowly.

“For fucks sake Aubrey! I’m not using double entendre!” His hands wrapped around her neck. “Must I really remind you of what wrongs you’ve committed?!”

A brief panic finally came, “Wrongs?? Excuse you.”

He could have sworn the snap in his brain had been audible to her as he lost his last bit of patience.

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“Excuse me.” You settled back into the seat, having taken a bathroom break to down some water in secret. You weren’t trying to actually end up blacked out.

“Anyway,  that's how we secured the riverside house.” William leaned into you. You tried to sip your drink and found it empty, having managed to finish it absentmindedly while he rambled on about himself earlier. As you stared at him you let your eyes lose focus and drift into plans for the morning. You’d like biscuits. Alastor had some sausage he’d picked up the other day, maybe a little gravy and some eggs. It’d be like a Sunday meal nice families ate after church. You assumed. Out of the peripheral of your daydream you saw him tap the bar twice and hold up two fingers. “Charge to 1033.” He said. With the clarity of someone who wasn’t pretending to be drunk you quickly held up three.

William shot you a confused look.

“One for my darling.” He made a show of looking around, the bartender pausing. You gave him a confirmation nod, “Three, please.”

“And is he in the room with us now, Helen? I’m beginning to think he’s imaginary.”

It seemed a fine enough name to give him.

“No! But I made a promise. Or…,” you returned the lean, head resting on his shoulder, “are three drinks a little steep for you?“ With a huff, he pulled out a pair of C notes and set them on the bar. The bartender nodded, reaching for the top shelf. You whistled at the sight. Too much money for the total seven drinks he’d ordered, if you weren’t somewhere Alastor frequented you’d have slipped them under the lip of your stockings when the man wasn’t looking. He was charging the room anyway, the large bills were just for show…

“One reviver for the miss, one brandy for the sir, and a rye whiskey neat for the beau.” The bartender set the drinks down on red napkins. The whiskey sat between you both, and after a beat you realized you hadn’t actually told him what to make for Alastor. And come to think of it, your last drink hadn’t been a reviver at all but a brandy ordered by William.

“Ya know I stood up another woman to help you,” he said it into your cheek, stealing your attention by breaking your line of thought. His arm around your shoulder curled to hold you closer, “Don’t I get a reward for that?”

His breath reeked of sickeningly sweet brandy, the taste sticking to the back of your throat. Your head tilted back so you could look at him down your nose, right hand coming to rest on his thigh.

The heat of his body was radiating through the fabric of his pants and made your stomach turn. How many hot and sweaty bodies had you had the pleasure and displeasure of touching?

A smirk painted your face, remembering seeing sweat sticking to Alastor’s forehead the last time he fucked you. What had you done for that reward? Ah right, the somehow shocking act of not withholding praise for how well planned out his greenhouse was. How impressive he was to you in so many ways. You could have lingered on that recollection, on how Alastor set down his coffee and kissed you. And how he didn’t stop until you were both left undone and flustered. But movement stirred away the pleasant memory to bring you back to an unpleasant reality.

His hand roamed down your arm, uncomfortably warm palm on your exposed skin. 

“Oh, I know you did.” You said.

William chuckled, absolutely no idea what you were talking about and not particularly giving a shit. “Did I mention I have a room here?”

“Ten thirty three.” You repeated. 

He looked genuinely shocked, “How’d you know that?” The man was absolutely mystified.

“I— you just…,” your mask slipped in the face of such abject stupidity, “Lucky guess.” William drank his brandy slowly, mentioning you should bet on the ponies together. You nodded. 

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Alastor didn’t care for strangulation. It took so much time and wasn’t particularly satisfying. No pleading, no screaming, no blood and gore. Just…. someone flailing beneath you and turning purple. Boring. 

He brought up the accusations before he began to squeeze, and her panic transformed to relief. “Oh that?” She tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down, “Are you really miffed at me about that?”

“Yes, Aubrey! You condemned an innocent child to a horrid death!” His hands loosened, all of his neurons firing off to feel pain in his own heart. 

She rolled her eyes, “I wouldn’t call them children. You seem so upset, hun. Did you have a mam-?”

The rest of the word was barely squeaked out of her, he couldn’t let her finish it. He wasn’t sure what face he made. But whatever it was, it scared her. The carefree way she’d been handling the interaction finally died, and he could register actual fear in her eyes then. 

But the rage just … withered. How many children had his mother loved and doted on before her last, much kinder position? How many Aubreys had she raised. It was nothing short of an overwhelmingly violent sadness that laced his finger together around her neck and tightened, the full weight of his body coming down to crush her airways. He wanted such sentiments to be smothered out of the world like the air in her lungs. If he killed enough, could he make a dent in their influence? He could try. For her. For his mother. 

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“Ya know, I could take real good care of you. If that’s what’s stopping you from coming upstairs.” 

With a deep breath, you gulped the drink halfway down. “Your fella doesn’t need to know. I could even get you your own place, you could wait for me there when he’s late with work. Have dinner ready. Slip off my shoes like a good girl.”

“Trust me; you’ve got a better chance of her smacking you with your shoes than slipping them off like a maid.” Alastor was resting his elbow on the bar behind you, head leaning on his hand. “Hey doll. That one mine?” He pointed at the glass.

“Oh? Alastor is the fiancé?,” William gave off a snide laugh as he was interrupted, Alastor standing up and walking to come between you two, “This guy?! Everyone knows he’s a frigid bitch. You must be a dive alley-cat if you’re—,” Alastor’s fist connected with the man’s jaw, eliciting a sickening crack. He needed both hands to keep himself from falling down with William as he was knocked back out of his bar stool. Alastor’s feet slipped on the spilt brandy, causing him to seize the stool for momentary support.

Alastor took the glass of whiskey with his non-dominant hand and downed it. He cooed, “Top shelf, Georgie?” The bartender nodded. “Good choice. Picked a worthy sucker, sweetheart. Ready to peel?”

You watched William try to stand, glass stuck to his palm. He did manage to get on his knees, shouting at the staff who stood motionless and unphased behind the counter. They didn’t say anything at all, oddly, until Alastor extended his swelling hand to you.

“Have a good evening, sir.”

Alastor flashed his signature smile and guided you out of the hotel bar. You only got a few steps before quickly running back and snatching one of the 100$ bills from the counter. William would’ve taken it back from the bar anyway. What a waste!

When a waiter offered Alastor a warm and familiar look you had to wonder, did people really not know what he did in the darkness of the New Orlean’s alleys? Did a part of them not feel some kind of debt to him? Or was he just painfully friendly when socializing?

“Just to be clear,” Alastor let the doorman open the lobby door, “It’s not the accusation of sex work that compelled me to sock him. It’s the implication you’d be cheap.” He waved the valet from the car and opened the door for you, “If you chose to sell your companionship at true worth, his daddy’s money couldn’t even buy him a kiss.”

“Aww,” you smiled at him through the thin windowpane, “Would you really be so cavalier about such a job if I did?”

“Would I? Gosh that’d make retirement much quicker for me.” He slid into the driver's seat and the door shut with a sharp ting. As he took hold of the wheel he reclined to let his hand settle behind you on the backrest, and then you three were off. 

“Oh by the way, Aubrey’s in the backseat.”

You turned slowly, first coming into view were her tiny, shining silver shoes. Your eyes kept traveling; stocking covered calves and then the bottom of her dress just past her knees.

Alastor’s coat draped over her torso and shoulders caused you to flit to him, confirming his jacket was gone, and back to her. 

Her face looked like that of a sleeping passenger. 

No blood.

When the car was a few blocks from the hotel, you leaned back and lifted the jacket. Her abdomen was clean, the white of her dress pristine. At first her neck seemed clear of cuts or abrasions until you rode past a streetlamp and a beam of light revealed the slowly forming collar of bruises.

Special attention.

For a hair of a moment you began to gently cover her again, before remembering her crimes and dropping it on her unceremoniously.

“Trunk not good enough for her?”

“Got interrupted. Booked it back to you.” He shook his head and patted the seat in tandem.

What luck that just as he felt sure she was too far gone for revival, he let go over her neck and sat up in time for someone to notice him. Fishing in his jacket draped over the seat, he found his cigarette case just as—

“What exactly are you two doing?” An officer was flashing his light through the passenger side back window.

Alastor froze, Aubrey motionless between his legs and a cigarette dangling unlit between his lips. “You startled me, officer! We were just canoodling. But she’s gone and fallen asleep before the main event.”

The officer’s brass light shone down but couldn’t reach the dead woman’s face past the shadow cast by the car door and glass. “She alright?”

Alastor’s eyes drifted down to the deceased socialite, “Truth be told sir, she’s had a bit too much of the giggle water.” Fishing your lighter from his waistcoat pocket, he lit this cigarette before setting the jacket over Aubrey like a gentleman.

“Alright y'all better get lost. Tell your moll this ain’t ladylike.” The officer tapped the window with his knuckle and when she didn’t stir just left with a huff.

Alastor was quick to leave the backseat and drive off, circling around at the next block to head back to the hotel.

“Is… everything alright?” You asked, very obviously concerned.

“Peachy! I just said we were necking before she passed out drunk.“ he leaned over and kissed your cheek, “Anything exciting on your end?”

Patting his leg you beamed up at him, “Always so quick on your feet! I don’t know why I worry so much.” His face lit up and you wanted nothing more than to launch into a praise filled rant that fueled his smile. But, you moved on to the question at hand. After a moment to think, you remembered ‘the best good deeds are done in the dark’. “Nope! Just got tipsy on William’s dime. An odd woman did touch my hair…,” you recounted every second, leaving out why you chose William, to Alastor. You hadn’t meant to, and he hadn’t actually asked, the evening’s events just seemed to flow out of you. The way he always added little comments and nodded made it feel like a conversation and not just you rambling. 

When the car was pulling into the driveway, you asked Alastor if you could drive it behind the house. Puzzled, he put it in park and let you sit between his legs. You started slowly, but quickly began to accelerate. As you approached the house you turned sharply to the left, right side tires ever so slightly leaving the ground. A sharp correction to the right to straighten out. One of his hands clutched you at the waist, the other gripping the seat.

He tried to form some kind of words but they came out a jumbled and panicked mash of sounds as you barreled toward the greenhouse. 

You slammed your foot on the brakes and Aubrey flew off the back seat and hit the floor with a loud thud.

“Ha!” You slapped the wheel, “I’ve been wanting to hear that sound the whole drive!” 

He used both arms now to squeeze you appreciatively, “You’re just the bee’s knees.” Alastor nuzzled into the back of your neck, truly feeling his heart flutter. You made him skip a beat. So many days and nights not even imagining such a pairing.

The best scenario he could think up was a partner who wouldn’t ask questions, who didn’t care to know, who was maybe a little too naive but otherwise capable. Even in his wildest dreams he hadn’t dared to think someone would exist who could support him.

And not just in the killing, which was a hurdle of course, but the other parts of him. The little sacrifices you made for him without complaint. 

What did he do for you, he worried. Your body was his on the occasions he wanted but never did you ask for him. You shared the housework equally. Yes he drove you around but your skills with the car were still new. Insignificant things, like making your coffee when he awoke first and waiting for you after work. With the detective still looking for connections, he couldn’t even properly introduce you or flaunt you around to his circles.

Like a flash of lightning taking down a tree, insecurity shook him. What on earth was keeping you there? Of all the people in New Orleans, how was he any more worth your time than the next?

If anything, he was nothing short of troublesome. His hold on you twisted from thankful to desperate.

Even the lovely evening out he had promised you, he’d left you alone in a strange place. A stranger had bought you more drinks than he had. 

“Would you like to go to the woods with me tonight? To dispose of Aubrey?” His lips swiped across the fabric of your dress as he said it.

The sudden advancement into his hobby took you by surprise. You hugged his arms against you, “Really? Are you sure?”

“If you don’t want to…”

“Is that what I said?”

“Well, no….”

“Don’t put words in my mouth! I absolutely want to go!” Your arms squeezed his.

He chuckled into your shoulder and gave your hip a pat, “Let me get her packaged up. You go rest your feet and I’ll come get you when I’m ready to go.”

You watched from the kitchen, the light he hung from the greenhouse ceiling setting the entire space aglow. When he finally emerged, his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and his hair was falling into his face, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose before he could push it back into place. He waved from the porch, and when you made it out to him he was already pulling out small bundles.

“We’ll bury the pieces in separate places.” He dragged out a small trash tin with the lid already clapped down. “And this goes into the water.”

The packages were like Tommy’s, but smaller. They fit easily into the trunk, and beside them he snuggly fit the metal bucket.

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The Ford was parked down a dirt road far from sight, taking a parcel at a time and a shovel, you followed him into the woods. 

You had to ask, why not just his land? Wasn’t that safer? Easier?

“Well, a skull found out here is easier to act shocked about than on my property.”

The ground was still soft, but you could imagine it was rock solid in winter. “Isn’t this dangerous? Aren’t you slowed down in the colder months?” You kept your eyes open wide, adjusting to the pitch black of the forest. The trees were too close and too full still to see the stars. But soon they’d brown and die, revealing the sky’s light. Revealing Alastor.

“Eh it’s mostly busy during mating season because the hunters come out in numbers. But in general I avoid being here in the very early morning hours.” He paused and you reached out for the shovel for your turn, “It’s not too bad overall.”

“They mate in fall. It’s almost fall now.” You widened your stance for balance and began to dig. 

“Yeeees but I’m not alone!” He chirped.

“Fine… just, don’t come out when I’m not able to join you. Just wait or, I don’t know, burn them or something.” You tried to dig fast, wanting to spare his injured hand another turn.

“Very ineffective, brings too much attention and the body never burns all the way. It’s still identifiable in many cases.” Alastor said it quickly, as he’d had nearly a lifetime to think of these things and test them. 

You huffed, “Well, fuck. Okay. Still.” You leaned over and offered your index finger, not looking at him as you did. He laughed before wiping his hand clean on his pants and hooking his with yours. 

A small scream erupted from you, startling him. Your short heel sunk into the dirt when you leaned to lock fingers. The sudden loss of balance startled you. “Sorry… flat shoes. I need flat shoes…these are gonna be the death of me.”

Alastor’s hand came to his heart, pounding in his chest, “Of us. My heart nearly stopped.”

You dug many holes, all of them quite small in radius, just wide enough to slip in what you needed to. After each was deep enough by some standard you didn’t know, he would untie the twine around the package and let the contents spill out and down into the little cylinderical pocket of dirt. 

The first package had her hands. Then next was her feet. Her arms in pieces and then later her legs. The hips, the chest and shoulders, and finally, her head. You were grateful for the darkness, not wanting to see her face now that it was no longer attached to her body. 

The brush was so thick and the woods so dense that you found it hard to distinguish the burial spots once they’d been filled in and covered up. He explained most people came out there with a purpose, not really noticing some disturbed dirt here and there. It’s not like they’re people sized.

“You’re just something else, ya know that?” You said it into the shadows and didn’t see him wince. But you somehow, accidentally, knew to clarify, “I’m always so impressed by your way of doing things. You’ve really thought it out well huh? I know I should worry less but it’s hard.”

Because of the shade you didn’t see the way his shoulders relaxed. You never made him regret your inclusion.

Alastor carried the bucket as you slowly made your way through the darkness. You could hear the sounds of bugs, though you couldn’t see any.  The water surprised you, his arm coming to stop you from walking into the bayou.

“In winter they’ll get really still, so I slow down then too. But we still have time, it’s not too cold yet for them.” He took off the lid, the smell of copper blossoming from the tin.

With practiced moves, he tossed the viscera as far as he could into the small inlet marsh of the river. 

Within seconds the water frothed and rolled with the snapping of powerful jaws.

“Gosh they’re so neat.” You said, reaching out into the darkness for his hand. You couldn’t see him looking at you as you watched the prehistoric animals dispose of his crimes.

He wanted to kiss you. To confess every little happiness you filled his formerly hollow chest with. But he held back. He knew better. He’d tried before, once. When he thought settling was better than nothing. It ended terribly. It was better to just exist beside you for as long as you’d entertain his company. If you knew, he thought, of all the futures he imagined with you, you’d just feel tied down by his hopes. You weren’t a small bird he could hold in his home. 

You promised to not get in his way. The least he could do was not cage you with his love. He wouldn’t hold you back.

“Alastor.”

“Yeah?” He said dreamily.

“I think… ” You fought the urge to scream at the sensation between your toes, “Aubrey dripped into my shoes.”

Alastor yanked the bucket away from you, the angle he haphazardly held at it with a single finger to hold your hand having caused the liquid remains to leak out.

“Ankle boots. Ankle boots, no heel.” You muttered, the shoe rinsed off in the water with a paranoid speed now squishing under your sole. The action was enough to draw attention to your shore, long and round snouts moving toward you in the night as you got rid of Aubrey. It was time to go. 

The drive home was dark and silent. The bucket and tarps rinsed with the gas can full of water he always kept in the oversized, custom built trunk. It had taken longer than you had realized, which just brought up renewed worry for his sleep schedule.

When you finally made it home and into the bedroom, he mumbled it was too late to shower. A coordinated grumble between you that you’d both just wash the sheets in the morning. Alastor sat on the end of the bed and bent down, your hand coming to his shoulder to stop him. 

Exhausted, aching, and quite confident you smelled of sweat coated dirt with the tiniest hint of dead Aubrey mixed with alive William (blood and brandy, respectively), you lowered yourself to your knees. You untied the waxed laces of the right shoe, made of a shiny brown leather, and slipped it off. 

Alastor felt his throat tighten as he had to blink to keep tears away. You always seemed to listen when he spoke. Really listened, even when he was just being playful. Another tiny sweetness piled onto the mountain you were currently burying him under. Another ounce of inadequacy tipped on his self measured scales.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Hush, I don’t have to do anything.” You said it and he laughed breathlessly knowing he’d heard it before and praying he’d hear it forever. “I want to.”

You set the left shoe beside the right. When you didn’t stand but instead stared at him patiently, Alastor undid his pants and lifted his hips to push them down. You folded them neatly beside his shoes. Feeling up his legs as if you couldn’t see them there in front of you, you found his sock garters. 

“Keep the socks, please. It’s getting chilly.” He undid his shirt and folded it on his lap. 

When he was in just his underwear and socks, you looked up at him and wondered if he knew. That this was the closest to expressing “I love you” you had ever been. The act itself perhaps far louder than any words could be.

Sitting back, he patted between his legs like he had in the car. As you sat, he undid the buttons down the back of your dress. Why were so many women’s clothing items made in a way that required two people?

In the mirror above the dresser you took in the sight. When the dress fell to your waist he kissed your shoulder and met you in the reflection.

“Quite a pretty couple, if I do say so myself.” He rested his chin where he had just kissed and smiled at you. “What did I do to deserve your attention?”

“Affection,” you corrected. “Aubrey got attention.” He nodded slightly. “I think it’s karma.” You watched his brow arch. “You’ve earned me. Whatever that means, or looks like. We were put together for a reason.”

It was the sappiest thing you’d ever said and a year ago you’d have laughed in someone’s face for saying it. If a character in a novel spewed it out in a confession you’d have closed the book. But you meant it. Every single word was part of the fact this was supposed to happen. The idea that any timeline existed where your paths never crossed gave you the shivers.

Alastor closed his eyes, exhaustion catching up quickly as comfort opened the door for it. That didn’t make any sense to him at all. Why would anyone, god or the devil, give him something good just for the sake of being a good thing. He was very plainly bad. There must be a catch. That fear he felt before, the fear of wanting something too much, reappeared. Turning its ugly head to him as if called by name. 

Why? He could feel something, someone, setting their sights on him. 

When he opened his eyes, you were there still, looking at him. A smile too sweet. He felt the compulsion to tell you to run. That if this was his karma, it would end the way he deserved. And he didn’t deserve happiness. He didn’t deserve you.

But instead he leaned down, lifted your dress, and unclamped your garters. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to cling to what good he had now. Even knowing he couldn’t possibly get to keep it. His fingertips delighted in rolling down the delicate nylon. He watched the red stained end loosen around your toes, a mental note to burn them before he continued his undressing.

“Lift your hips, my love. I’ll get you all ready for bed.” As he pressed forward and bent into you so he could slip off the stockings he turned to look at the you in front of him, “And I’ll keep you warm.”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[rockscanfly]

Random Charles Smith Headcanon's

Has probably contemplated suicide at more than one point (see “I’m here just to hurt and suffer myself. In this land I feel stuck.”)

Maybe a little vain. He cares for his clothing well, embellishes himself. 

Has auditory sensitivity. He gets very irritable with loud people.

Has never felt like he belonged, always feels cut off

Is comfortable with violence only against folk he sees as on his own level/like himself. Has little empathy for himself so has little empathy for them (hence smoking while Arthur beats a man for information, the efficient and quick kills of the bounty hunter, the poachers)

Has a STRONG sense of justice--that includes responsibility and culpability. People make choices and Charles holds them accountable for them. Sadie is a killer, so he treats her like any other ally. That German family didn’t make that choice, neither did the Wapiti. But he doesn’t have any pity for the gang.

Animals don't choose violence, hence the protectiveness over them and their dignity. 

Comes off as cold because he isn’t loud/not good at chat. He’s really just been alone most of his life. 

Okay with drinking, does NOT like drunkenness. Back to culpability. This can make him unforgiving and harsh at times.

Both he and Arthur are so used to people passing in and out of their lives that they’re afraid to hold on too tight. Then Arthur gets captured by Colm. Hosea talks to him, about Bessie and about Arthur’s dead family. 

“I’m not her,” Charles says. “Not either of them. I’m not asking you to leave your world behind, and I’m not going to wait for you in some house. We’re partners first. I’d lose the rest of it before I let you put me to the side.” 

He likes that Arthur is big enough to push him around, to hold him down and anchor him when he can feel himself getting lost. To toss him over a broad shoulder when they’re swimming around on a hunting trip and settle him down on soft pelts, to pin him and bite the lonely from his skin. 

Charles can kick Arthur’s ass and will do so on request

He’s kind and thoughtful. He’d be the one to make Arthur little presents and leave them around for him. Practical things, made special with the careful workmanship of beading/embroidery/etching. 

Can be impatient—autonomy is his norm so waiting on others both physically, mentally, and emotionally doesn’t come natural to him

Will cut slingload on people he feels don’t value him back—would not pine for Arthur or stick around if Arthur tries to protect himself by lashing out at Charles, even if he still has feelings. His father taught him that he has to protect himself because no one else will do it. Arthur. Well. Arthur’s the only person he’s trusted to have his back. Because Arthur proved it, several times over. There’s no one Charles would have used “do it for me” on other than Arthur Morgan. 

He fell into fighting again because he had begun opening his heart for the first time since he was a child, and then fate took Arthur too. Like Charles said—he was put on the earth to cause pain and to suffer himself. 

He tries to help folks, but he’s not good at talking and he can’t use his privilege to help like Arthur did. He’s everything the US government hates, even more than the Waipiti. They reach a point where his violence is no longer useful. And for a drowning, grieving, heart sick stretch of years violence is all Charles has left to him (hence going to Saint Denis, a city he hates, and fighting people for white folks' entertainment in a transparent suicide-by-cop bid for someone to end his suffering) And then Sadie gives him the option of closure and working beside John reminds him that he is a man, not a weapon, and Beecher’s Hope makes him believe he too can change. 

Charles has never tried to be anything but who he is. He and Arthur are similar in that way. What he realizes, what Arthur realized too late, is that he can change if he wants it. And that maybe he’s allowed his past pain and scars to run his life along a course he doesn’t actually have to follow. 

Brought to you by my on-going replay of RDR2 and my undying love and devotion to princess of my heart Charles Smith.

[jaicey]

CHERRY LIPGLOSS SUCKS

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: You and Regina have a long-standing history together, and now, with your exes pairing up in a new relationship, you are reluctantly forced to work together to win them back. Will the familiarity bring you closer, or will old habits resurface, leading to further tensions?

Warnings: manipulative regina, profanity, beginner fanfic writer:so mid writing, mentions of weed and mozzarella sticks

Words:1.3k

A/N:Thank you so much for all the support on Part 1, especially to that one user who reblogged and said "go read or u suck" I LOVE U.

Regina's words echoed in my mind like a stuck record."

"Ill see you tomorrow, after school, underneath the bleache-"

"Dude!" Mae jolted me out of my thoughts, snapping. My brain instantly refocused on the present moment.

The final class had just 5 minutes left, and I had to meet Regina. I hadn't had a genuine and meaningful conversation with Regina in a while. Our last talk had taken place years ago, and it didn't exactly conclude on the best terms.

-

"Did You really have to be that honest?!"

-

"Y-Yeah?" I stammered as I shook my head, desperately trying to clear my mind.

"Are you even paying attention?" she asked with an eye roll.

Trying to cover up my shit, I responded with a snort, "Of course!" hoping she would buy my lie.

Unconvinced, she asked, "So, when is Anders' soccer game?"

Ander plays soccer?

I gulped, "Tomorrow?" I replied, my voice smaller.

"Ander has asthma, dumbass." She pointed out

My shoulders sagged as I let out a resigned sigh, muttering under my breath, "fuck you, reverse psychology."

"You good?"

I attempted to brush off Mae's concern, replying, "It's nothing."

She gave me a skeptical look, countering, "Bullshit. You didn't even touch those mozzarella sticks I brought you. You love mozzarella sticks."

"I was full," I argued lamely, attempting to defend myself.

Mae raised a skeptical eyebrow, reminding me, "You guzzle down a Red Bull every morning for breakfast. Your 'full' card doesn't fly, genius."

"I'm just not in the mood today, okay?" I reasoned again

"Fine," Mae conceded, slightly annoyed. "I'm going to go help Brynn roll some. Want to join?"

I shook my head, declining her offer.

"Nah, I have something to do," I responded, already turning to leave the classroom.

Mae looked at me suspiciously, raising an eyebrow. "Okay..." she replied, still doubting my excuse.

I was growing increasingly annoyed as I waited for Regina under the stinking bleachers. The place absolutely reeked, and I had been tapping my foot in irritation for far too long.

"I'm a bit surprised you actually showed up."

Regina stated as she approached me with a confident stride.

I responded in a sarcastic tone, rolling my eyes, "Yeah, blackmailing me about my friends really works wonders."

I glanced around, surprised not to see Gretchen and Karen accompanying her, as usual.

I couldn't help but comment, "Where are your backscratching bootlickers?" I raised an eyebrow.

With a slight tilt of her head she responded with a snarky remark, "Your mouth is still as vulgar as ever, i guess some things never change."

"As if you're any better." I mumbled under my breath, too low for her to hear

"Woah woah, dating!?" I replied, thoroughly taken aback. "No way am i going to be your girlfriend!"

Regina quickly corrected me, "Pretend." She rolled her eyes, growing impatient with me. "Do you want Tina back?" She asked, her annoyance clear. "Then there's no question about it.

I wrestled with the idea, questioning if it was even worth the effort.

My face twisted in doubt as I questioned her plan. "How do you even know this will work?"

Regina's voice took on a venomous tone as she snapped, "Can you just shut up and trust me?"

My scoff turned into a mocking laugh. "Trust you, Regina?" I taunted

-

I sat alone in my darkened room, tears streaming down my face as I clutched my teddy bear tightly for comfort. My room looked like a cyclone had gone through it; pillows and blankets scattered every which way, and pieces of paper and pictures torn up. I could hear my mother's concerned voice outside my door, saying Regina wanted to talk to me. I shouted back, my voice shaking with anger, "Tell her to fuck off!"

-

I scoffed in disbelief. "Right, because the last time I trusted you really worked out well for me." The memory of her betrayal still stung.

"Can we not discuss that right now?" Regina replied sharply, but my anger remained.

The audacity of this bitch is terrifying!

"We're going to have to work together, so if you keep bringing it up, you're just making this more uncomfortable than it already is."

My anger gradually faded, replaced by a begrudging acceptance. I hated to admit it, but she was right

— we I couldn't keep dwelling on the past if we were going to make this plan work.

I reluctantly agreed, "Fine," Part of me yearned for an acknowledgement, for her to address the past, but her lack of response just left me feeling disappointed.

Regina sneered disdainfully, her gaze traveling along my entire body, her eyes judging me. "What the fuck are you wearing?" she taunted, as if I had committed a fashion felony.

I looked down at my clothes, feeling a bit self-conscious. "What?" I replied defensively, unsure of the issue.

Regina abruptly grabbed my wrist, her touch surprisingly warm. Without a word, she began pulling me towards her red Jeep.

"where are you tak—" I started, but she quickly cut me off, her words laced with annoyance.

"I am not going to be seen with an outdated loser," she retorted, her grip not relenting as we approached her vehicle.

I stumbled slightly as she practically dragged me along, trying to protest, "It's just a band tee!"

My wrist felt the absence of her touch as Regina turned to open the driver's door of her Jeep.

As she settled into the driver's seat I glanced back at the passenger and the back seat, debating where to sit.

Opting for the safer choice, I reached out for the back door handle before Regina interrupted me.

"Sit in the passenger seat, idiot," she ordered, her tone cutting through the air.

Reluctantly, I opened the passenger door and slid into the seat beside Regina, sitting a slight distance away from her. As she started the jeep and began driving, I turned my gaze towards the window.

I tried once more to get an answer, my eyes still glued to the outside world.

"Seriously," I persisted, "where are we going?"

Regina's response was brief, "Shopping," she replied. "If I'm going to pretend to date you, you at least need some proper clothes."

The cafeteria felt oddly silent as a murmur of whispers surrounded me. I couldn't tell if it was my anxiety playing tricks on me, but the atmosphere felt eerily hushed.

"I hate this," I muttered under my breath, feeling the weight of everyone's gazes upon me. Wearing the clothes Regina had deemed socially acceptable yesterday made me feel even more out of place right now.

My train of thought came to a halt as my phone buzzed with a notification. It was a message from Regina: "Stop standing there like a statue. Come sit with us."

I glanced at my phone, finding a flurry of messages from my friends group chat. "Where are you?" and "What the hell are you wearing" filled the screen. I reluctantly raised my gaze to our usual table, only to see my friends staring at me, bewildered. Swiftly muting my phone, I headed towards the plastics table.

'Took you long enough,' she muttered, as I approached, her eyes glued to her phone, no doubt scrolling through Instagram.

Gretchen, a hint of false enthusiasm in her expression, looks up from her phone. "Why's she here?" she asks, peering at Regina through raised eyebrows.

Regina retorts with a deadpan tone, rolling her eyes slightly, "To sit with us.”

Gretchen, her voice rising in pitch, exclaims, "What?! She can't-" only to be cut off by Regina's firm interject.

"Sit," Regina says, her inflection leaving no room for argument.

I hesitantly moved to sit across them.

"Hey, sorry- uh," I greet, looking between Karen and Gretchen with a mix of confusion and frustration. "Why am I sitting here? This is not part of the plan!" I whisper-yelled at Regina, leaning in closer to avoid being overheard.

With a roll of her eyes, Regina replied, "Just go with it." She set her phone down, adding, "Tina's watching".

I glanced around the cafeteria, spotting Tina seated with her clique, watching me intently. In that moment, our eyes met, confirming that the first step of Regina's plan had been successfully executed.

Step one:Complete

A/N: next part is cadys arrival😱🥶

[galedekarios]

gale as a professor at blackstaff academy

i have to say that at first i wasn't too sold on the (then still fanon) idea of a professor ending because of gale's own prior anecdote about being irked by his previous students and their inadequacies.

i thought it might not be a good fit for him as far as professions go.

but reading the epilogue files, i have come around on it.

i think it's just one more way in which he's really grown into himself, become content with who he was in the past, the mistakes he made and what he has learned from them, and the person he wants to be in the future:

Player: You? A teacher? I'd hardly say you set the best example for impressionable young wizards... Gale: I think it makes perfect sense. devnote: Surprised you wouldn't recognise this, a tiny bit offended you don't trust him to do this Gale: Who better to warn of the perils of misusing magic than someone who was once only a wayward sneeze away from destroying a mid-sized settlement? devnote: playing up to his past a bit, you can imagine this is how he acts with his students Tara the Tressym: Don't remind me of those terrible times, Mr Dekarios. My blood pressure has only just recovered.

a few more cute banters & things we learn about gale and his new teaching position:

tara swipes at students who fall asleep in gale's classes, which he himself doesn't mind. he, too, slept through some of them (like his calishite lessons):

Player: Perhaps that's a good thing. I'm sure they're far better students than I was... Gale: Ah, so you still remember our little lesson? devnote: A little bit bashful, it was a vulnerable moment for him Gale: 'Teaching' you was hardly an effort at all. Not like my present cohort of apprentices. devnote: Complimentary, pulling the thought back to the teaching element after getting lost in the memory of the moment Gale: They try their best, of course - when they can manage to stay awake. devnote: Not upset by this - he slept through his fair share of classes as a student Tara the Tressym: The cheek of them! Nothing a well-placed swipe from Tara can't fix, though.

2. gale offered to teach more subjects than illusion via simulacra:

Player: Only a professor? With your expertise, I'd have thought you could teach every kind of magic going... Gale: I did offer, as a matter of fact. devnote: Secretly glad the player thinks so highly of him Gale: However, the Blackstaff insisted I couldn't teach every subject, nor could the simulacra of myself I offered to create for that purpose. devnote: Reluctantly accepts that this was the right decision Gale: So, I've settled for teaching the art of illusion. Magic to confound the senses, to render the impossible into reality, and to allow expression of that most magical attribute of all - imagination. devnote: Selling it a bit - he wants to make sure you appreciate how cool this is

3. gale has told his students about the player's adventures and will invite a player to be a guest lecturer:

Player: I found the love of my life. I'd say I'm pretty happy. Gale: And I couldn't be happier for you. A fitting reward for the sacrifices you made in getting here. Gale: I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know. Gale: I'd be delighted to introduce you to my current cohort - as a guest lecturer, perhaps? I'm sure they'd have plenty of questions for you. Player: It would be my pleasure. Gale: Excellent. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the allure of sharing your expertise. Gale: Of course you'll be most welcome to stay with me in my tower- Tara the Tressym: Ahem. Gale: My apologies, Tara. That would be our tower.

4. his students find him somewhat intimidating due to his backstory with mystra and the orb:

Gale: Well, that was quite lovely. I'm glad you're as pleased to see me as I am you. Gale: I have to say, I'm quite grateful to just be 'Gale' for the evening. Gale: I fear my students find me somewhat intimidating, due to my erm, explosive former reputation. I seem to put the fear of the gods into them. devnote: He plays up to his reputations a bit, so he isn't overly surprised Gale: Or the fear of Mystra, to be more specific. Gale: I surrendered the Crown of Karsus to her, as I told you I would. And in return, she cured me of the orb at last. Gale: Even now, I struggle to put the feeling into words. It was like exhaling for the first time, after holding my breath for so very long. Gale: Of course, I haven't clarified with my students that the orb is no longer a threat. The legend of my explosive capabilities is an excellent means of controlling a classroom. Too good, if anything.

5. he wants to teach his students that there is fun in studying magic:

Gale: I spend most of my time trying to convince them how much fun the study of magic can be, but it'd be easier to crack a smile on an intellect devourer than some of my pupils... devnote: Despairing a little, doesn't understand why they aren't all as passionate as he was Player: Or on a mind flayer, perhaps... Gale: Smiling may no longer come easy to you, but I've seen how your tentacles twitch at my jokes. Even the ones I'm not entirely certain I was trying to make... devnote: Last sentence a tiny bit self-conscious, aware that people sometimes find him ridiculous. Gale: Still, I hoped my students might be a little more open to the playful side of such magic.

anyhow, i hope this was insightful to someone! 🖤

[tarotchariotpickyourcard]

PAC: What makes you a good partner

This is for both singles and those in a relationship. This is for encouragement if you are still looking, to remind you of how wonderful you are in a connection. It’s plain just to make you feel good about yourself if you’re in a partnership.

Please pick between groups 1, 2 or 3. Group 1 is the woo-hoo badge, group 2 is the wing, group 3 is the be mine tag.

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GROUP 1

4 of wands (joy and stability) - Third eye chakra - communication - get centered - love

I got a feeling of insecurity and it made me wonder if that’s how you’ve been feeling lately. I don’t know if it’s about your abilities in general or directly in a relationship. 

So, I’m talking to myself here like a lunatic right, and I’m going through what the psychic tarot could be saying so far. And I just can’t help but get a state of mind situation here. And I talk and talk, wondering if this is you, could it be your love interest, whatever. Suddenly I realize - I’m overthinking. Is this what you/they do? Overthink this stuff?

I really can’t help but think this is the beginning of a status check. Because logically i would look at it in a straightforward way but my intuition tells me the reversed version of what first impressions are: The feeling of being insecure, trying to tell the future, wanting things to be a certain way, not trusting. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few in this group read a lot of that future spouse or soulmate stuff. For those in a relationship right now, you could be worrying if it will work out, how long will you stay together, will this last etc.

I honestly don’t know if this is how you used to be, this is what you’re overcoming, maybe this is what your partner deals with, I don’t know.

I feel like when you mellow out and feel calmer, it’s like there’s a box that unlocks. Maybe when you’re feeling anxious, you aren’t present with a person or able to show your more fun or loving side as much as you would like.

Your affirmation cards are great. It gives me the impression that you’re a straightforward person who doesn’t mince their words. If you like someone, you’re going to tell them. If you wonder about their feelings, you’ll ask them. If you want a committed partnership, you’ll see if they agree instead of wordlessly hoping.

I’m going to be absolutely honest, and it seems contradictory to me, but i honestly got the insecurity stuff before, but it’s like… At your best, you can be the most centered, calm and peaceful person. Your partner could be stressed and worrying or even getting argumentative and you wouldn’t react the same. You would be able to hold it together and tackle things calmly.

I have finally come to the conclusion that this is you, unlocked lol.

Group 1, I don’t know, it seems like you’re having a hard time. I’m getting distracted, the feeling of wanting to give up. This is the time when you most need peace. You don’t need to give up, you need time. You need time for yourself, and to really be so soft with yourself. Whether you’re in a relationship or not, you need you right now. You need to spend time with you. You need to hear the birds sing. You need to feel the grass at your fingertips. You need to close your eyes and know there’s something there for you, just for you. That the birds chirping right now that moment are being heard by only you in the way it’s happening, with the clouds that are showing right now. The way the light hit your window and made that little rainbow. That the funny quirky thing the person across the street was seen only by you. Isn’t it weird? It’s like some moments are made just for you. 

And that’s why there will be that relationship made just for you. This is confirmation that there will be that partnership. If you’re facing issues in one right now, get back to you for now and let what will be, be. If you’re seeing someone and wondering, let them come to you.

In a safe, happy partnership you will feel seen. You will be peaceful. You will feel secure and that feeling will spread to your partner. You are open and honest. You are loving, even clumsily. 

Things go wrong but you will know that everything is still right. Things will be alright. You no longer need the 8 ball to tell whether or not, because you will know. When you feel secure, you are your own fortune teller. You will re-align, and you wil learn to have peace and move on from disagreements. You will know how to still be loving, even when irritated.  You know what to prioritize as a partnership, what practical things you should deal with together. What matters most. You will have faith in yourself and extend it to your partner. I see you growing old with someone, mainly because you will let yourself. That security is the foundation for a long and happy relationship if you wish for it.

Love says:

“Love is a many splendored thing. Today I notice and appreciate 3 of those splendors. Like the fact puppies make me feel like a parent. Or the surge of self congratulation when I sink a three point trash basket shot on the first try. Or how about the chills I get while singing along to ___”

Get centered:

“When it gets to be too much, whatever it is, I close my eyes and return to my center.”

Communication: 

“Wonder how that other person is feeling? Ask ‘em. Wish they knew how you were feeling? Tell ‘em. You’ve just been drafted into the communication army, where there is a strict do ask/do tell policy. Speak with kindness and gentleness, and reach an understanding.”

I hope this made sense for you. Remember, it will all be ok in the end.

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GROUP 2

Support - manifest - believe & succeed

You are a cheerleader for sure. Extremely supportive of your partner's endeavors. This group seems to choose people with ambition or dreams. You lot probably are more into manifestation or law of attraction than other groups. It’s likely you’ve had your successful manifestations and know that it works, so in theory, it should for your love interest too.

You honestly seem great as a team. A very happy and willing participant. If your partner needs something suddenly sorted, whether it’s a chore, or administration work for their business, you will drop what you’re doing (less important stuff ofc) and help them.

Support:

“I look at the vast network of support in my life, and I’m reminded of what a superpower it gives me. At any moment, I can call an army of top-notch people who want the best for me, which means I’m basically invincible. Take that, loneliness! Run for the hills, boredom!”

Very good cheerful energy, I see you really trying to keep things upbeat and positive for their sake. Just in case though, do remember it’s not all your job, and they are the captains of their own ship, ok? You might get a little sidetracked because you get so excited for them. I’m getting the idea that you would never ever get jealous of a partner (it can happen sometimes. Not unusual, not bad), and you always wish the best for them. 

You really open up the other person's eyes to possibilities. You make them think about things they might not have been brave enough to before. It’s like through your partnership, you wake them up to possibilities. Maybe you even wake them up to spirituality/manifestation. You make the other person feel secure. Like they have something to come back to after they go out on a limb and try something. 

They will know that if they fail, they could hate themselves or feel bad, but you would never look down on them. You would just send them right back out lol. Try again, then. Is what I get. There’s so much confidence and faith in this other person. You know, you just know that they can make it. Where they see nothing, you see something. You know more is possible for them and yourself. You make, or will make your partner feel like they are something. When they always thought they were just ordinary or boring, when their self esteem isn’t where it should be.

Careful of carrying a relationship for the both of you though, you want someone who is able to gain the momentum and motivation that is like yours. If they don’t have the energy, it’s just not going to happen the way you see it for them. It’s got to be by them, for them, ultimately. If you are single, be careful of investing into a person who may agree with your goals/vision/excitement only to talk about it, and not follow through. You could talk someone up and big them up till the cows come home, but they will have to prove themselves to themselves. Talk only goes so far.

You might also bring extra connections or support to your partner. This could be your family being lovely and bringing them in, being completely inviting and helpful. This could be they gain a place in your friend group too. They could get networking opportunities because of who you know, that kind of thing. 

You bring a lot to the table, but remember, everyone is their own captain so you come first. You have tremendous energy, belief and determination to make things happen and work. You need to make sure it’s matched.

Hoping for wonderful things in your love life.

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GROUP 3

Release - Master (rev) - Inspiration.

You have a lovely combination of cards, group 3. I really see you’ve done the work on yourself.

Firstly, if there is anyone here that has escaped a negative or abusive situation, you are seen as an inspiration and you have become such a wise person that people look up to.

You really try to take care of yourself, and I like that. It’s often said that it’s attractive in love to put yourself first and that’s what I think your partner does/will like about you. There’s no desperation to make the person like you or want you. That kind of thing makes certain people chase.

Release here is just giving me the feeling of being chill, of not needing to prove anything. You know it’s important to be vulnerable at the right times in love. There might have been past issues regarding control, vulnerability and openness. I feel that you’ve really moved past some lessons in romance regarding those things. You could have listened to someone or read something that made you realize what was happening, or why you seemed to be having a pattern, or attracting certain people.

I see that you have intuition and you allow yourself to listen to it now. It will become invaluable for yourself and also your partner. You could get gut feelings and tell them, whether this is about their work situation or whether you feel something bad about a journey.

I'm seeing that you’ve had to let go of a lot so you’re not attached to outcomes. That same surrendering energy is helpful in partnerships because you’re not invested whether your partner will or won’t do something. You don’t want to control them, or try and manipulate them to do a chore, or to decide on an option you think is the right one.

You let love be free, and that’s beautiful. There’s a sweet, open, surrendering love that is there for the sake of being love. The person could go off randomly and you would still hold appreciation. When you are in a partnership, you look like you bare it all and choose to trust. I feel like you’ve been really hurt but you’ve come back and decided you want to love anyway.

If you’re not there yet, you will be. You have too much love in your heart to give. Just because someone was incapable of love doesn’t mean you are or should be.

You really inspire your partner, there could be a muse here. You really give the other person room to be themselves and voice their ideas. You hold that space for them and let them express themselves. There’s a lot of soft, quiet loving energy here. You don’t love loudly, it’s quiet and constant. Your love is a gift in itself, it’s how you are the most wonderful partner. Just by loving the way you do.

I think when you’re with the right person, you make them feel very safe to be themselves. I’m seeing that you would be a good parent, a good person to have/adopt/foster a child with. You would be very good at guiding and encouraging them. You are a very considerate person, and you don’t go around tooting your own horn. I get a modest feeling here. 

You help and are supportive in ways that aren’t super visible, someone would have to be really watching to notice what you do. There might be a little mischievous side, or a sarcastic sense of humour that can go under the radar. Your partner will appreciate that very much. Such lowkey energy but so strong and constant, dependable.

I feel like you should be very proud of yourself. I think you’ve overcome a lot and there’s a lot of humility here, but don’t downplay yourself. I feel like your partner does/will tell you to express yourself, or make a move on some kind of idea you have. I get the idea you’re used to someone else being the main character, or someone else being a focus or supported. Your partner will say it’s your turn.

That’s what I’m seeing group 3, have a good one.

[chichiscloset]

WHAT IS THIS SEASON OF LIFE TRYING TO TEACH YOU?

When you’re in pursuit of the life of your dreams along the journey there will be many seasons. Some seasons will be triumphant and you’ll feel like anything is possible, while others will be so difficult you’ll be unsure how you’re even going to make it through this season of life.

I want you ladies to remember, and as a reminder to myself as well, that the only constant in life is change. When change comes are you able to withstand the turbulence of life while remaining faithful and focused? And when things are great can you show gratitude for all that you prayed for and received?

“To whom much is given, much will be required”

I love that quote! It’s a reminder that if you want a lot you have to go through a lot. The best things in life are found through effort and experience. I know the “soft life” has convinced us all that being a “bad bitch” is enough to achieve the life of your dreams. However, in reality, that’s not all it takes! The life of your dreams doesn’t just appear! It is a treasure, and like a treasure, a hunt is required because you only find what you seek!

God/the universe, whatever you believe in, is always guiding you to become your best self. Let life mold into what you need to become, so that you can receive the desires of your heart. There is a lesson to learn in every season, and it’s your job to have enough wisdom to let life be your teacher.

At the end of the day, as much as we all want to, there is no avoiding the process or the discomfort that different season bring. If you are not already born into money you’re going to have to figure out how to get everything you dream of. Which means, you’ll have to go through some thangs!

How to embrace each session if your life?

I. PRAY

Pray, pray, pray.

Seriously! Without getting too religious, prayer works! Plenty of the darkest seasons of my life required a crap ton of prayer to get through the days. You have to remember nothing is happening to you, and everything is happening for you. You are where you are because that’s where you’re supposed to be. Trust that God has a plan, and it’s more beautiful than anything you could imagine.

Pray for guidance, pray for clarity, and pray for wisdom. Prayer has a way of providing calm in the midst of a storm.

II. SLOW DOWN

Take a moment to reflect on everything that lead you to where you are today.

Realize that some days will be productive, while others will feel like you aren’t doing hardly enough. We are all human, and growth is never linear. If you’re always moving and doing it’s hard to hear your intuition. It’s ok to slow down and listen to what the universe is trying to tell you.

III.FIND A NEW PART OF YOU TO EXPLORE

As humans we’re always evolving. We change the way we dress, the activities we enjoy, who/how we like to spend our time, and everything in between.

As you enter a new season of being take the time to reflect on what’s changing about yourself. Is it a change you like? Are you regressing? Take the time to explore and get to know this new version of yourself. Be curious without being judgemental.

IV. PRACTICE GRATITUDE

Practicing gratitude is the quickest way to call more good into your life. By being thankful for the good things in your life, no matter how big or small they may be it allows you to focus on the positive aspects of your life and acknowledge the good things that have come your way.

Some ways to practice gratitude include keeping a gratitude journal and expressing gratitude to others, taking time to appreciate nature, and focusing on the present moment. By practicing gratitude regularly, you can improve your overall well-being and increase your happiness, and better weather any season in your life.

Ultimately, accepting the changes and transitions that come with different stages of life, whether they be joyful or challenging. It means acknowledging that life is a journey with ups and downs, and learning to appreciate each moment for what it is. By embracing the seasons of life, we can grow, learn, and become more resilient individuals.

Until we talk again ❤️

Chichi

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

Falling in love again (Christen Press x Reader)

Writers block is being a pain at the moment so sorry it's been a while since I posted. I'll be back to trying to write my list of requests in a few weeks when I'm back from holiday. This wasn't requested, just a random idea and probably not very good but I hope you like it!

Warnings: Death of a partner, grief. If you find anything else let me know and I'll add it!

Words: 4.3K

---

Almost two years had passed since I lost my person. The person I thought I would spend my life with, the person I loved more than I thought it was possible to love someone. Life was cruel like that, giving you a person who understood you, who loved you so deeply, only to rip it away in the worst way possible. The day the phone call came, telling me Talia had been in an accident that claimed her life was a blur. Honestly, at times it still felt like a dream. The overwhelming grief, disbelief and fear I felt that day still ever present if I thought back to it. 

I had almost quit soccer for good after that, but I knew she wouldn't want me too. Talia loved watching me play, she knew how much I loved it, always encouraging me and supporting me in everything I did. So I kept going, every game I played, I played for her. The grief had faded since then. It was always there, it always would be, some days were worse than others, but it was bearable. It didn't consume me like it once had.   

One of the things Talia used to love was colouring in my tattoos. Not that I would have admitted it to her, but once we started dating, my new tattoos were purely designed so she could colour them. Our spare time was often spent with her colouring them while I drew or did random stuff. It was something I found myself doing often, especially when I was missing her.

Someone sat down next to me as I slowly coloured in one of the many tattoos scattered over my body. I didn't pay them much attention, continuing colouring, "What are you doing?"

I shrugged, not looking up at Emily, "Colouring."

"Is she colouring in her tattoos again?" Kelley asked sitting across from us.

"Yup, we really need to get her paper or a colouring book."

"Have you ever noticed even when there's paper around she still does it? Look at how comfortable and peaceful she looks. It's like a built in stress relief." I fought the urge to chuckle at how they talked as if I wasn't there. To be fair I was only half listening. 

"Why do you colour in your tattoos?"

I sighed, putting down the pen. The team had been bugging me for months now about it. These were some of the people I trusted most in the world, there was no reason to keep hiding it from them. "It reminds me of my wife. She would sit there for hours colouring in my tattoos while I drew. It became sort of a routine."

"You're married? You don't wear a ring."

I pulled the chain around my neck that held a simple black band and a silver band with a line of diamonds. "Mine and hers," I took a deep breath trying to control my emotions, "She died almost 2 years ago, I only take it off for games."

"God Y/n, I'm so sorry," Ali said, pulling me in for a quick hug.

Alex was the next to pull me into a tight hug, "How come we never knew? We've known you longer then two years?"

"No one knew except our close friends and family. At the time we weren't as close as we are now and I guess I couldn't bring myself to mention it after. We never specifically hid it, just didn't put it out there. She never wanted to the world to know who she was. Never wanted who she was with to impact her kids."

"She had kids?"

"She was a teacher at a school for kids with disabilities. They meant the world to her, she would do anything for them. It was always a worry that her suddenly being known would affect her job in some way."

"It sounds like she was an amazing person. I'm sad we never got to meet her."

"You did, you just never knew who she was to me."

"Talia? I remember you mentioning that she passed away and that's why you took that break," Alyssa asked.

"Yup, we had been married 4 years the day you met her."

"That's why you completely disappeared that day then wouldn't tell us why."

A small smile appeared on my face remembering that day. We had booked a hotel room, ordered way to much room service, gave each other massages, then had a bath and watched movies. It was simple, but one of my favourite nights besides the day we got married, "She had flown in that weekend just so we could celebrate our anniversary. We never spent one apart."

---

Christen sat down on her bed, staring up at me for a second before speaking, "That's why you turn everyone down when they ask you out? Including me."

There had been many people over the years that had asked me on dates, all being turned down for obvious reasons. Christen had been one of them though, about a year after Talia passed. Besides Talia, Christen was the only person I could actually see myself with if I ever got to a point where I felt ready. That wasn't now, but part of me hoped it would happen soon. Despite the guilt and grief that was there, I wanted the chance to be happy again with someone. We had talked about it a few times and neither of us wanted the other to hold on for too long. Talia would want me to be happy, to move on and one day, when the time was right, I would.

I sighed sitting down next to Christen. Sitting or lying on the others bed was a pretty common occurrence when we roomed together. "You know I know she would want me to be happy, but every time I even think about starting to date again, it feels like I'm betraying her. Like if I start something, I'll forget her."

"You'll never forget her. No matter what you're doing or who you're with, she will always be in your heart. She'll always be your person, but you can love someone else while still loving her just as much as you always have. It's not one or the other and if the next person doesn't understand that then they aren't worth the time. There's no rush to move on."

"Thanks Chris. Out of all the people that have asked me out, you're the only one I thought about saying yes to. I'm sorry I wasn't ready."

Christen placed her hand on my knee, squeezing gently. Something that always seemed to make me feel peace. "Don't be. I always knew there was a slim chance of you saying yes and I accepted that. I was just happy that it didn't change our friendship."

"Would you still be open to that date? Not right now, but sometime in the near future."

"Of course I would. There's no rush or pressure though Y/n/n, whenever you're ready, I'm ready. And if you're never ready that's okay too."

--- Today was two years since Talia was taken. Of course it was game day. When I realised the date it was like a weight was sitting on my chest. Christen was still asleep so I slipped quietly into the bathroom to shower and let the tears out. I had originally been thinking about pulling out of the game, but after my shower I was actually feeling okay to play. I was determined to win for her. 

The final whistle blew as I clung onto whoever was closest, my knees trying to give out on me. The rush of emotions I felt was not what I expected. Happiness, relief, grief all rushing through me as I tried to hold it together in front of everyone. Letting my emotions show in front of friends or family was hard enough, I didn't need that happening in front of the fans. 

I managed to hold it together enough to greet the fans before we made our way to the locker room. As I put the necklace back on, I broke. Tears silently streaming down my cheeks before a sob forced it's way out. Instantly, Ali's arms wrapped around me tightly as I sobbed into her shoulder. I didn't like crying in front of people, but there was no stopping it. So for once, I just let it out with the comfort of the people I trusted most. 

Once I had calmed down, Ali finally spoke up, "What's going on Y/n/n?"

"I-it's been 2 years sin-since- I'm sorry."

Ali's arms tightened as another hand squeezed mine, "Never apologise for feeling how you feel. You can always feel how you feel with us. We've got you always."

We spent longer in the locker room than we normally would as the girls took turns comforting me and making sure I was okay before we left. After dinner, most of the team ended up in one of the rooms for team bonding. There were quite a few questions about Talia, normally I didn't talk about her much because of the emotions it brings up, but everyone seemed genuinely interested in her.  Also, talking about her was actually quite therapeutic.  

Even though it was therapeutic, talking about Talia still brought up emotions so I had found myself cuddled up with Ali for comfort. I had almost went to Christen for comfort, but the guilt had started to creep in again making me decide against it.

"How old were you when you got married? It must have been quite young," Tierna asked.  

"We were. We started dating at 19, married at 23.  Possibly too young in some peoples opinions, but at the time we just got the idea in our heads and went with it. I proposed and 2 months later we were married. My time with Talia was incredible, it was fun and low maintenance. We met in college when we both didn't have a lot of money, most of our dates in our first few years were picnics, walks or movie nights. 

I mean our first anniversary, we made each other homemade cards. Talia got me marshmallows because I was obsessed with them at the time and I got her chocolate and gummy bears. We ended up at the beach, making smores before going back to my apartment and making pasta for dinner. To this day that was probably one one of my favourites. Talia never cared about fancy or expensive things, that never changed the further I got in my professional career or as our money situation changed. She was just happy if we were together."

I knew I was rambling, but I couldn't help myself. Talking about Talia before I lost her was one of my favourite things. The girls didn't seem to mind though as everyone's attention seemed to be completely on me. "She sounds like she was an incredible person."

"She was. I think she would have gotten along with all of you. Especially Emily and Kelley. Talia loved pranks and just being annoying. She wrapped up a carrot and gave it to me more than once, she would pull little pranks all the time or poke and prod at me constantly."

Later that night, Christen got my attention as I slipped into my bed, "Hey, you doing okay? I know today was hard."

"It was, but I'm feeling okay right now. I think talking about her helped. I've never really let myself because of the emotions it brings up. Turns out it's quite freeing to talk about her."

"The team would agree, it was nice to hear about her. I can see how much you love her."

"It's uh not weird for you is it?"

"No. Y/n, she was your wife, you love her, you always will. I know that. If we were to eventually get to a point past friendship, I would never expect anything else. You can talk to me about her whenever you want and I don't want you to feel bad about it."

"Thank you Chris. I don't want you to think I'm leading you on or anything. I have every intention of asking you on a date, I just need a bit of time."

"Hey, I don't think that at all. Like I said, there is no rush, there's no expectations."

---

It had been about six months since mine and Christen's initial conversation. I was finally feeling like I was ready to try dating again, all I had to do was ask. It had taken longer than I thought it would and a part of me was thinking that Christen would have lost interest by now or just didn't want to deal with my past. A part of me was tempted to not ask, to save myself from rejection, but I also knew there was no way to know unless I asked. 

"So."

"So?"

I took a deep breath, trying to clear some of the nerves that had been building. I had never asked one out let alone dated anyone else besides Talia. Christen sent me a small smile, the nerves melting away when I saw the adoration in her eyes. "Will you go on a date with me Chris?"

"You're ready for that?"

"I think so, I've been thinking about it a lot recently. It's just this is something I haven't done with anyone besides Talia so I might not be perfect or even close to it, but I'll try."

"I would love to Y/n. Just tell me if we go on this date and you realise you're not ready. I'll understand. You also don't have to be perfect, we'll figure this out as we go okay?"

"Thank you Chris. I'll pick you up at 6?"

"We're sharing a room."

"I'm going to get ready in Ali and Alex's room, that way I can pick you up."

"And they say chivalry is dead." 

---

Trying to plan a date was so far out of my comfort zone that I didn't even know where to start. Of course I had been on many dates with Talia, but that was different. It had been 10 or so years since my first and only first date. I knew Talia like the back of my hand, I knew what she liked, where she liked to go. Christen on the other hand, I knew her, but to a far lesser extent which was making me overthink. What if she didn't like what I planned? What if I did too much or not enough? 

Before I could continue to spiral, I decided to enlist the help of Tobin. Normally I would go to Ali, but Tobin was Christens bestfriend. 

"You okay Y/n?"

"No. Well yes but also no. Christen and I are going on a date tonight and I'm freaking out. I cannot for the life of me decide what to do. Every time something comes to mind, I convince myself that it's not enough. Chris will be the second person I've ever taken on a date, it needs to be perfect."

Tobin led me to sit on the bed as I had started to pace across the room. "Don't tell her I told you, but Chris doesn't care what you do, she's just happy to go out with you. Tell me your ideas?"

"I know she likes parks or gardens, beaches, picnics, museums, that sort of thing. There's not a beach around otherwise I would take her there and it'll be too late to take her to the museum but I found a nice park the other day. It has a lake and there were heaps of like lights and stuff. Was thinking picking up some takeaway and other bits to have a picnic at the park, but it doesn't seem like enough."

"Y/n, that is perfect. I know this is pretty much completely new to you, but you just need to try relax a little bit. You know Chris, she's your friend, you know what she likes. She's going to love a picnic in the park, maybe a walk around after."

"Thank you Tobs."

"Hey Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"Chris is going into this knowing there's a chance you realise you're not ready and she'll understand that, everyone will. There'll be no hard feelings or anything. Just if that happens, please tell her sooner rather than later. I know you won't do it on purpose, but I don't want her to get her hopes up."

"I will. This wasn't a decision I made lightly, I feel ready and I'm really hoping I am. I admit, it does feel a bit weird, but I really like her Tobin. The last thing I want to do is hurt her."

Tobin smiled slightly, pulling me into a quick hug, "I know and so does Chris. Just take it one step at a time, you don't need to rush anything or do anything that doesn't feel right."

After one last hug I made my way to the door, "Thanks Tobs, I should go get ready before I make myself late."

Before heading back to my room, I ran down to the shop to get a few things. Picking out what to buy took longer than it should have. Everything I thought about buying, I ended up second guessing if Christen actually liked it. Time was running out though so I ended up picking out some wine I thought she liked and some other picnic type things.

Despite almost making myself late, I knocked on the door at exactly 6 pm, trying my best to push down the nerves. Tobin was right, Christen was my friend, I knew she didn't expect or even really like some fancy date. There was no real reason to be this nervous. Part of it was probably because of how new it was, part of me was second guessing if I was truly ready for this, but I think that was due to nerves and not wanting to hurt Christen. Another part was because it was Christen. Gorgeous, kind, thoughtful Christen. Anyone in their right mind would be nervous to be going on a date with her. 

"Hi Y/n/n."

"Hi."

Christen smiled, kissing my cheek softly, "You okay?" 

"A bit nervous, but I'm okay. You ready to go?"

We made our way out of the hotel, stopping to pick up takeaway before starting the ten minute walk to the park. Christen didn't ask about what we were doing, instead making random conversation. Knowing I was nervous, I had a feeling she was doing it on purpose to try calm me down. It was definitely working, my nerves were fading away the longer we talked and I wasn't thinking so much about if it was enough. Instead, I was letting myself be excited about it. 

When we got to the park, Christens eyes lit up as she looked around. I found a nice spot by the lake, spreading everything out on the blanket as Christen got comfortable. "How'd you find this place? It's beautiful."

"I stumbled upon it when I went for a walk the other night."

"You went for a walk, alone at night?"

"Maybe not my best idea, but I needed to clear my head away from our room, away from the hotel."

Concern covered Christens face as she straightened slightly, "Away from our room? Was I doing something wrong?"

"No, no you didn't do anything. I was trying to figure out if I asked you out or not. I guess I was worried that I had left it too long and maybe you weren't interested anymore. I also felt a bit guilty, making you wait so long. It seems unfair to you. Got in my head about it I guess. If you can't tell, I'm a bit of an overthinker sometimes."

"Well I'm glad you did. This wasn't unfair to me, I promise. You were honest about everything Y/n, you didn't give me false hope or lie to me. That was all I could ask of you. Are you feeling okay about this?"

"I am. Honestly, it feels a little bit weird which maybe you don't want to hear, but I'm really having a good time."

Christen smiled, taking my hand gently, "Look, I don't get how it feels, but I will never dismiss anything you're feeling. You can always talk to me about it. It's okay for it to feel weird because it probably is for you, I don't take offence to that."

"Thank you. Now lets eat before it gets cold."

We spent the next couple of hours talking about anything we could think of. There had never been anyone but Talia that I could talk to so comfortably without running out of things to talk about. That was until Christen came along. Long before there were any feelings, there had always been something about her that made me feel comfortable talking to her about things. Now I craved the conversations I could have with her. I wanted to get to know her more, from the mundane to the personal. 

Conversation continued as we walked around the park hand in hand then back to the hotel when it started to get late. The nerves had long faded by now, instead being replaced by giddiness and maybe butterflies. Going on a date with Christen felt right. Despite the lingering guilt, I knew Talia would approve. I knew that out of anyone to move on with she would have chosen Christen for me. That in itself brought a sense of peace. 

---

Christen slipped under the blankets on her bed, pulling me down with her. I laughed as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, mumbling something about wanting cuddles. Pulling her closer, I left a soft kiss against her forehead before speaking. "You want me to sleep in your bed tonight?" 

Christen just nodded. We had just got back from our fifth date in two weeks. They could have been spaced out since we lived in the same city, but I felt like a smitten teenager again. Instead of the nerves that plagued me for our first date, I was excited about the dates. Maybe to some it was too many too quick, but I didn't care and Christen didn't seem to either.

Despite the amount of dates we had been on, we were planning on taking things slow. It was my idea to take it slow as this was something I hadn't done in a long time. We had kissed for the first time at the end of the last one, but even though we were rooming together, we hadn't slept in the same bed yet.

"That can be arranged, but I need to get changed and brush my teeth." She groaned dramatically, but let me go with a pout. After completing my nightly routine, I took my necklace off, putting it next to the bed. It felt unfair to Christen to be sleeping in the same bed as her while still wearing my wife's ring.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking it off."

"Because you want to or because you feel you have to?" I just shrugged, Christen stood up, grabbing the necklace and putting it back around my neck before her arms wrapped around my waist from behind. "I will never make you take this off. I never want you to feel like you have to for me okay? You will always love her and that's okay. It doesn't mean you can't have that love for someone else as well."

I nodded leaning back into her. One of my biggest fears with dating someone new was that they wouldn't understand or get mad at the fact that I will always be in love with someone else. That person just happened to not be here anymore. It was scary that I already felt myself falling for Christen, she was just such a beautiful person, inside and out. I don't think I could stop myself from falling even if I wanted to.

---

Christen and I were lying on my bed as the movie credits started to play. We were supposed to go out, but I wasn't feeling up to it. Talia's birthday was in a few days and I had been thinking about her a lot. No matter how much time passed, I still missed her just as much. I was feeling somewhat guilty about the new realisation that I was in love with Christen, like I was being unfaithful to Talia. I felt guilty a lot when Christen and I first started dating. It had mostly faded over the 6 months we had been together, though it always got worse near dates to do with Talia. I just had to keep reminding myself that there was nothing to feel guilty about and that she would be happy for me.

"I hope she's proud of me," I stated quietly, mostly to myself.

Christen turned her head slightly, "Maybe I didn't know her very well, but I know she is. You've come so far in your life and career. You are an amazing person, anyone would be proud of you."

"Sometimes I wish I could have one last conversation with her. See what she thinks of my life, where I am, who I'm with. I still talk to her sometimes, almost expecting a response, but of course it'll never come."

Her fingers laced with mine, squeezing slightly, "I'm sure she's listening and she's happy that you're living the life you want. That's what the people who love us should want for us."

I rolled over so I could look at her properly, brushing a piece of hair out of her face, "Have I ever thanked you? For letting me talk about her, for understanding that me loving her doesn't take away from what I feel for you, for always being there for me on days like our anniversary, or her birthday or the anniversary of her death. It's something I am forever grateful for Chris."

"I will always do all of those things, you don't ever need to thank me. I love you Y/n, I'll always be there for you no matter what."

"Y-you love me?"

"I do. You don't have to say it back, I just wanted you to know."

I kissed her softly, trying to show everything I was feeling, "I love you Chris."

[theroundbartable]

Modern AU: Uther & Arthur text messages

Arthur: father, how was your day? It's the first month since I moved out and I wanted to check in.

Uther: everything is fine. I have a meeting.

Arthur: oh okay. Didn't mean to bother you.

*marked read*

...

Arthur: Hey :) I thought it would be good to come home this weekend. Tell you a bit about my new job. Would that be fine?

Uther: 👍

...

Arthur: just reminding you that I will be home this saturday!

Uther: yes. You will have to sleep on the couch. Morgana took your bed when she moved out.

Arthur: ah yes, I know. She asked me and I got a new one for my new apartment anyway. It's okay. I won't stay long.

Uther: you should leave after breakfast. The cleaning lady comes at 10.

Arthur: ok

*Marked read.*

----

Merlin: what kind of conversations are these?

Arthur: it's not that bad! He's my father and he does care. He's just not good with texts... And phones, and talking. But he does care about me. And he accepts me for who I am and everything.

Merlin: yeah, but he's not very interested in who you are now, is he?

Arthur: he's my dad. His job is to love me, not to know me. And besides, he does know me. And he's came around to it, eventually.

Merlin: ... Arthur-

Arthur: he's not the best dad, I know. And he has his firm and he's busy, but he does try!

Merlin: When was the last time he hugged you?

Arthur: ...

Merlin: birthday presents?

Arthur: that's not fair. We generally don't do presents at home. And he doesn't like hugs and I can respect that. I haven't gotten him any for his Birthday either. And you know how bad I am at giving gifts myself.

Merlin: Arthur-

Arthur: And he does support me! Maybe not emotionally, but he's making sure I have everything I need, and don't end up homeless and I can get back home whenever -

Merlin: and he makes you feel guilty for all of it. He tells you you're a good for nothing!

Arthur: He doesn't say that-

Merlin: I see how he looks at you when you make a single mistake. How he wanted you to become a lawyer and when you finally did, he asks why you're not a doctor instead. He doesn't trust your instincts or your decisions, he doesn't even visit you! You're always the one visiting him!

Arthur: it's a long ride!

Merlin: YOU do the ride!

Arthur: yes, because I'm his son!

Merlin: you don't owe him anything!

Arthur: he's paying half the rent for me!!!

Merlin: ...

Arthur: ... I know it's difficult for you to understand-

Merlin: no, no, Arthur, I do. I just realized how chained you are.

[shimmeringweeds]

To all of us in agony overthinking what CXS's reaction to what LG has done will be (myself included). I remind you of episode 5

Look, Lu Guang knows he messed up. He took a risk not telling Cheng Xiaoshi about the earthquake (all to protect him, keep in mind) and it backfired spectacularly.

Oof. Yeah good question. Getting right to it.

Uh huh. Uh-huh yeah-- wait. Oh. No, he's dead serious about that. During the earthquake Lu Guang reminds Cheng Xiaoshi specifically of their present time. He warns that changing the node of death in the photo would affect THEM. He's protecting their present. Anyway moving on.

Cheng Xiaoshi did very much punch that handsome face in light of "betrayal." Like, this isn't a hypothetical. The initial fallout between them will be immense. And I really don't think just one punch is going to be enough for Lu Guang's actions... but were not here for the initial fallout. We're not here for a present, heated, moment. We're here for the future.

So now every time Lu Guang says "fool," what I hear is "I love you". (Thanks for that episode s2e12.)

But also. Is Lu Guang talking about himself here too?

"Don't question the future, because the future will definitely change because of us."

I don't know. I've kind of started seeing Lu Guang as going through phases. Phases where he is 100% stuck in the past. Keeping it the same, untouched. Phases where he is living in the present, relishing every moment he has. Phases where he is looking to a future. No, not just looking, but desperately fighting for that future where they all live.

These words are for himself.

Cheng Xiaoshi comes off as impulsive because he's got a big heart, but he is a thinker. He has had so much time, alone, to think. He thinks about his parents being caught in the earthquake, alone in an empty house. He takes days to think about Lu Guang words here, before forgiving him and offering that naive trust again. In Xu Shanshan's case, he shut himself in the darkroom all afternoon to think and plan, alone.

I don't see a future where Cheng Xiaoshi lets Lu Guang go. I see a future where Cheng Xiaoshi THINKS and thinks until he understands, and understands enough to finds a future for them both.

But first, they really need to have an honest-to-god talk. (And maybe a good punch.)

[its-time-to-write]

chapter 5

guys I got confused and apparently I’ve had chapter five done for a while and the chapter I’ve been stressing over is actually chapter six??? I’m so terribly sorry! But here it is lol, I’m still a bit concerned I’ve written myself into a corner but I’ll post chapter six on Monday if not sooner.

table of contents

at least I’m trying

Jamie’s the one driving the car, but he’s actually worried that he’s about to be a murder victim. He’s never been a big fan of true crime, so he’s not entirely fucking thrilled that he’s going to be come one but he supposes he probably deserves it and anyway, maybe death isn’t so bad in the grand scheme of things.

Except he wants to actually hold Clare and buy her things and tell her he loves her and never leave her ever.

So maybe death-by-Madeline is actually so bad in the grand scheme of things.

“What the HELL is your problem?” she asks, and she’s actually expecting an answer so Jamie has to think fast. What the hell is his problem? No- what has he done in the present for Madeline to come straight from Milan to chew him out?

“What exactly do you mean?” he asks carefully. He needs to make sure Madeline knows he isn’t fucking hostile or some shit, and that maybe if he handles this right she can put a good word in with you.

He knows he’s reaching, but hey. He’s made it this far in life.

Madeline glares at him. “I mean, where the fuck do you get off showing up like this? Are you trying to take Bean? Because let me tell you, only one of us was at the birth and that shit was fucking gross. But the ones who showed up are the ones who get to take care of her, not some deadbeat father who’s too busy kicking a ball and fucking models to actually care about anything.”

That offends Jamie, but it terrifies him more than anything else. Because yes, he wasn’t around, but he didn’t know. And now he does fucking know and he has to actually see if he’s a good father or if being a piece of shit truly is genetic. 

But he can’t imagine treating Clare even a fraction of the way his father treated him, so he’s hopeful.

He says, “I just want them to be taken care of,” and Madeline sighs.

“You can’t keep dragging her around, Tartt,” she reminds him as if he didn’t remind himself a year ago before thinking fuck it and calling you. It was supposed to go different. He was supposed to tell you he loved you and wanted you back and was done being a fucking idiot, except he got freaked out so he clammed up and left. And maybe that’s the strongest evidence as to why he should just leave the whole thing alone.

Jamie says, “I’m not,” but it feels like he’s trying to convince himself at this point.

“Being a parent is a lot of responsibility,” Madeline says.

He says, “I know,” then realizes he’s driven them to your street. He parks where he knows you can’t see him and waits for whatever Madeline has to say next.

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “She still loves you a little bit, you know. That’s why this whole thing is such shit. I truly think she’d take you back if she could trust the fact that you wouldn’t leave her, and I actually fucking think it would be good for her. But you’re the fucking worst so it isn’t going to happen, obviously.”

“I’m not leaving,” Jamie says. “I wouldn’t do that to Clare.”

Madeline says, “You’ve met her twice,” and Jamie gets her point. Because yeah, he’s met her twice and he loves her but that’s not really a reason to try to patch things up with you, and that’s what Madeline’s really saying, so Jamie says, “It’s not because she has our baby.” 

“Oh, is it not?” Madeline asks in her most sarcastic posh voice. “Then by all means, enlighten me as to what you think you’re doing with my best friend other than re-fucking her up.”

She’s got bags under her eyes, partially from Milan and partially because she’s just tired too. It’s her firmly-held opinion that you deserve the whole entire world and nothing less, but there isn’t much she can do to give it to you. She can try to protect you, she can threaten Jamie and torment him and bring you coffee and help put Bean down for naps but she can’t take the entire weight of it off of you. 

And she was being completely fucking honest when she said she thought Jamie would be good for you. He was the best when you were together, always taking care of you when no one else would, and Madeline worries sometimes that you’ll never let that happen again. 

“You don’t NEED a man,” she’d said more than once, “but if you wanted one just to take your mind off things or to buy your dinner I have a whole list.”

“I’m pregnant, Madeline,” you’d reminded her to which she’d just grinned and said, “Babe, there are real men out that who love that shit.”

You’d never taken her up on her offer because she knew, down in her core, that you were waiting for Jamie. She never, ever brought it up because she also knew you would be mortified to admit it. And that even though you wished for it deep in your soul, you also knew it would never happen.

“I’m not going to re-fuck her up,” Jamie says firmly, and if this were less serious of a situation he sees at least three ways he could turn that sentence into something dirty. “I have a plan.”

Madeline raises an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe,” she says. She reaches for the door and shoulders her away bag. Jamie watches her walk up the street and to your house without looking back once.

—

The first thing Jamie does is call Georgie because he actually does not have a plan. He has a vague idea of sweeping you in his arms and kissing you and that’s about it. He just can’t for the life of him figure out how to get there.

But his mum’s been on the other end of this, so she’s got to have some wisdom for him which is why Jamie calls her before he’s even out of your neighborhood.

He starts talking before Georgie can even say hello. He tells her the whole thing and about the fact that he’s an entire father out of nowhere and he has no idea what he’s even doing but there’s a part of him that wants to quit football and yes mum, he knows he’s being fuckin’ dramatic but he just wants to get his point across yeah? And by the time he’s done explaining that he just wants to make things right and permanent, he’s back inside his big empty house and wishing he were over at yours instead.

Georgie sighs and says, “I love you darling, but you’ve really fucked it,” and Jamie feels awful.

“I just don’t want to be like Dad,” he says quietly and Georgie says, “Jamie Tartt, you are nothing like that man. You’re my sweet, sexy little baby and you’ve grown up so much since you’ve been away. Don’t you ever think you’re like him.”

She’s right, Jamie knows that, but still. “So what do I do?” he asks.

Georgie’s silent on the other end of the line for a moment. Jamie doesn’t know if she’s hesitating or thinking but she says, “Now Jamie, I can’t promise this will work for you. And you need to make sure you’re listening to what that poor girl wants every step of the way. But I can tell you what I used to wish your father would do for me back in the day.”

Jamie digs around his house for a pen and paper because what’s the good in being England’s best striker if you can’t go for a long shot?

—

You’re not surprised Madeline is at your door, but you are surprised that she hasn’t been back to her flat yet.

“Your flight got back hours ago,” you say, baffled. She just shrugs. “Customs was an absolute nightmare,” she responds and you know she’s lying but you don’t question it. You just wave your hand vaguely to the guest shower that doubles as Mads’ second home and pull out a takeout menu. 

Clare is on the brink of sleeping through the night, but she still isn’t quite there so you just do not have the brain space to cook a real dinner. It’s not like Madeline cares, anyway.

By the time the food arrives, Madeline is out of the shower and laying on the couch with Clare as she recounts her trip, carefully omitting how much time she spent with Keeley fucking Jones. You know you shouldn’t hate her, but god, every time you see or hear her she just says one insensitive thing after another. So you don’t pry when Mads clearly skips over something; you only press when you know it’s about whoever her mystery fling was, which she is less tight-lipped about.

It’s only after you’ve both eaten and Clare is (mostly) asleep for the night that she asks far too casually, “You’re not thinking of getting back together with Jamie, are you?” and you nearly choke.

“I beg your fucking pardon?” you laugh and she lifts a shoulder in a shrug.

“I think he’s going to try something,” she says. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again. Just because he wants you back doesn’t mean he’s going to fucking change. It’s really not the same shit, you know.”

You say, “Yeah, I know,” because you do. But if he’s going to volunteer to be awake late at night so you don’t have to, you might just take him up on it. Especially because you think it would be a much-needed humbling experience for him.

“What if I did?” you ask while Madeline sips her wine. “What if I did take him back?”

Madeline sets down her glass with a clink. “Then I think you’d need a plan,” she says seriously.

—

Madeline’s plan consists of specifically detailed criteria Jamie must meet before he’s redeemed as a trustworthy person. It includes signifiers of emotional intelligence, maturity, and a general sense of stability that has been previously dispelled. She writes everything down and sticks it to the fridge with a magnet, right under Clare’s ultrasound photos. 

“If he can well and truly change, then he’s allowed back,” she says, and you agree. 

And for the first time, you allow your hope to come to the surface.

Meanwhile, Jamie’s finished his own list. Everything his mum would’ve like to see his dad do and everything Simon actually did do to win her over. It’s a wide range, that’s for sure, from flowers to grocery shopping to fucking cooking which he definitely hasn’t done since he was twenty-one but he knows how to fucking read, doesn’t he? Cooking’s just following instructions and he can do that pretty well on the pitch, so it probably is the same thing. 

He’s awake all night. All he can think about is how much he misses you in the bed next to him, and then around four in the morning he gets really fucking worried that all of this is just selfish and he should actually just leave you alone.

So instead of trying to sleep (because apparently it’s useless) he makes a cup of coffee and goes for a walk. 

He walks all the way to the green in the dark and goes to sit on a bench, except it’s already occupied.

“Mornin’ Jamie,” says Ted. “Bit early for a walk, ain’t it?”

Jamie just looks at him. “You’re awake too,” he points out, and Ted shrugs.

“Just a little jet lagged,” he replies.

Jamie knows that’s bullshit, and he says it. “You’ve been here long enough, coach.“

Ted shrugs again. “Guess it never really leaves you.”

He doesn’t say anything else but he doesn’t seem like he’s trying to get rid of Jamie, so Jamie sits down. A few minutes pass before Ted says, “Henry wanted to talk, so I woke up to FaceTime him. Then I couldn’t go back to sleep because I just miss him so dang much.”

Jamie says, “Same coach,” without thinking, and now it’s Ted’s turn to give him a look. Jamie ignores it and says, “I got a kid. Couldn’t fucking sleep thinking about her and her mum, you know? I just want to be fucking… involved but it’s all weird, like.”

“Weird how?” Ted prompts. He has enough questions to fill a black hole but he’s sure it’ll come out sooner or later so for now he’s just going to listen. 

Jamie leans back and stares at the sky as it begins to lighten. “Pretty sure I’m still in love with her. I sort of fucking suspected when I were with Keeley, but it weren’t till I saw her again that I knew for sure. But I don’t want to be fucking selfish and shit, so now I think I should just leave them alone.”

“Is that what she wants?” Ted asks as if he hasn’t had this conversation with himself a million times and moved to stinkin’ London to try to prove that he wasn’t selfish himself.

Jamie lifts a shoulder. “She doesn’t want me to leave again.”

Ted says, “Then don’t.”

next chapter

[krispycreamcake]

Reiji's perfect gift

From author: I'm gonna try just a tiny different writing style today sooo enjoy

Edit: I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF OH MY GODDDDDDD I POSTED THIS BY ACCIDENT AND TRIED TO CNP IT BEFORE I DELETED IT BUT IT ONLY GOT LIKE ONE SENTENCE. I AM LEAVING THE EARTH.

"Mmmm... That's- hnng- good..." I grunted out in relief as I felt their gentle fingers easily glide across my aching muscle, pulling and tugging until I could no longer hold in my voice. Just the feeling of them on my skin made me instantly fall into a state of relaxation and pleasure.

Once they were done, I rose up from the bed and rolled my shoulders. "Thank you, I do appreciate it." The words left my mouth as if butter had been smeared all over my lips. I turned around to face them, looking into their eyes. I wish I could've stayed longer but I had important duties that couldn't be dismissed.

Truth be told, I've been certainly stressed out these past few days with the events father had planned for us. Convincing my no good brothers was hard enough as it is to attend, but making sure they don't make a fool of the Sakamaki name would be the harder issue at play.

"Reiji? You're kinda zoning out, you ok?" I heard their voice and immediately snapped my attention back to them. I cupped their face with a gloved hand and grazed their cheek with my thumb. "It's nothing you should be worrying about. I'm just focusing on making sure everything turns out the way father expects it to." They quirk an eyebrow at me before giggling.

"What's so funny?" I ask. "Well if things turn out the way he expects it to, then wouldn't that be a disaster?" I grin as the joke registers to me. As much as I do appreciate the humour, it was just another reminder that without me, this family would completely fall apart.

"I suppose you're right. Truly I couldn't imagine them being on any kind of behaviour, so it'll be hard to make sure they're even on their best one." They look at me a bit despondent as if they know what has to happen now. "Goodnight. I do hope you have a good rest, if you need me, you know where to find me."

I watch as their hands grab onto mines, not saying a word. It would be so easy to ignore what must be done and just stay here with them, but I'm afraid that that's just not in my character. "Don't look so troubled, you'll feel my fangs soon enough."

"I watch as their expression changes from one of surprise to embarrassment. What a predictable human. "I assume that's why you're so against letting me go no?" As their unbelievable fibs reach my ears, I can't help but think about how I'm only wasting more time. I say my farewells and immediately head to the game room to check on my brothers.

"Really Ayato, you never fail to disappoint me." I watch as he freezes in his spot, pool table clutched in hand. "Shit.... Reiji." I sigh before crossing my arms. "I don't expect anything from you other than to slack off, but even then you prove to me time and time again that you cannot be trusted with anything. You can't even set an example for your younger brothers! You agreed to come to the gathering and claimed that you had read the event's guidelines, yet here you are lazing off and playing games! You understand the severity of your situation don't you? Of all of us? We are to present the family's greatest accomplishments over the years and yet we have nothing to show for it."

I fix my glasses as my voice grows Stern and tense. "Tch- why don't ya take that damn stick outta your ass and have fun for once? Isn't today supposed to be your special day?" If I didn't have more important things to attend to, I'd slap that imprudent little boy across his face. Where does he honestly get the audacity to speak to me of all people like that?

"You know that as vampires, our birthdays are rather pointless and tiresome to celebrate. I am not some weak mortal that needs to be pitied for having gained another year to my age. Kanato, your advanced math class is having a meet-up tomorrow, you will be attending. Laito, I've arranged for you to be giving a tour in the demon world where you'll be teaching others about our history and culture, all your notes and resources are on your desk. Ayato, you have been designated to attend tomorrow's ball along with Subaru. You all have your work cut out for you so I don't expect anyone to be slacking off."

They luckily knew I wasn't asking but still, neither seemed pleased to be bossed around. "I think I'd rather die than have an old guy like you tell me what to do you know." Laito spoke with firm determination, I could see it in his face and sense it in his voice, no matter how smooth of a tone he may put on.

"These are not my wishes, I am simply carrying out our duties and making sure you low-lives don't drag the Sakamaki name through mud." I quickly spat back at him. Why must they oppose every single thing I say? I'm doing this for them! I sigh before taking my leave.... Until I heard Kanato murmur something under his breath.

I snapped my head towards him. "Speak up, it's rude to mumble, you're no longer a child anymore Kanato." I watched as Kanato looked at the floor, fiddling with that teddy bear of his before finally speaking up with such dead eyes.

"Teddy and I think that you should just leave if everything's such a bother to you.... You don't care about us anyway, but I can't say that we all don't feel the same! Uuu..... You want to abandon us, leave us here to rot!" I was almost taken aback before Kanato started to sniffle and cry like a child that lost its mother.

I once again adjusted my glasses before giving them all a stern look. I head back to my room to review the letters we received after a certain good-for-nothing let them stack up without informing anyone that they were delivered in the first place.

Just as I climbed the stairs, I immediately noticed that they were there. Watching perhaps? Sometimes I just don't know what's going on with that person after it seems like I have everything figured out. "It's highly unbecoming to ease drop on other's conversations."

I chuckle as I watch them jump in surprise. I grabbed their hand before giving their wrist a slap with my index and middle fingers. They wince at the jolt of pain before yanking their arm away. But something wasn't right.... Their usual playful stature in moments like these, was replaced with what I could only concur as annoyance and anger.

"Is something the matt-" My ears were immediately assaulted by a loud berating. "How could you not tell me it was your birthday??? Are you insane?? We spent the entire day doing nothing! I could've made you a cake or something or- or I don't know! Get you a present at least! You told me 'not to worry about it' when I asked because it didn't matter!"

My face drops and I feel exasperation creep up on me. "Is that what this is all about? I believe you heard my explanation when I was speaking to Ayato, I won't repeat myself because you refuse to listen to anything that isn't what you want to hear. I've explained before that I'm busy, so if you don't mind, I'll be taking my leave."

I walk past them before things could escalate more. I tried to remain as composed as I could but everyone seemed to be additionally unintelligent today. Truth be told, I couldn't care less! My birthday? Ha..... What a joke, it should be forgotten and buried with that woman.

I turn the knob on my door and see my room in the state of a pigsty. I hurriedly closed the door as it let out a small slam. "Hm, it seems I've let this place get the best of me. I don't have time for tidying right now..... I need to-" I don't know what overtook me, or perhaps I did, but I slid down the wall and thre my head back, tears streaming down my face. What a fool I've been, running around catering to others and I shut them out when they try to do the same.

"Yes?" I look down to see them... But not just them. The triplets are outside as well and Subaru even. A warm yellow glow was radiating off of their face. Candles that were stuck inside a strawberry shortcake.... My eyes grew wide as I realized. I didn't say a word as I opened the door for all of them to come in. Ayato was the second to bolt inside holding a bottle of wine.

It's that damn person's fault! Ever since they got here, they've made my life hell! Their outrageous tendencies to check in on me, to care for me, to hold me! How could they..... Make me see my own flaws, make me feel this way? I hear a knock on the door and immediately stand up, drying my eyes and taking a second to breathe before opening it.

"Happy birthday dear Reiji~ happy birthday to you!" I unintentionally gave a small smile as I listen to all their uneven voices try to sing in harmony, it was absolutely awful. But I can't say I didn't enjoy it nonetheless. "Thank you all.... And I'm assuming this was your idea?" I asked them.

They tried to be humble but I knew they really enjoyed the praise they got from me. I opened the bottle of wine and poured everyone a glass, using the ones I keep locked away in my room. They all seemed surprised to see me bringing them out.

I can't remember how many drinks we'd all had, but when they kissed me.... I can't explain it. It was more sweet than any blood that I've ever tasted, more delicate than the finest of pastries. In fact, if it wasn't for that kiss, I don't think I'd recall that night at all.

I feel a presence behind me and before I could see who it was, they left. The only thing to indicate that there was someone there in the first place, was a small store bought card with the words 'happy birthday' written on it in an ugly font with bright colours. "Hmph, you really are good for nothing."

[moonstruckme]

hi love!!! I love ur work sm!! could you perhaps write a Sirius black x fem!reader, but the reader is very masculine? and sirius is more feminine? and maybe rude comments are made towards the reader for this or smthn? sorry if this is a specific request, but this happened to me recently with my boyfriend so i hope it’ll make me feel better. Ty!! ❤️❤️

Hi gorgeous! I'm so sorry this happened to you, people can be such assholes. I know "don't let it get to you" is much easier said than done, but I hope you're able to keep doing you without thinking about them too much. Thanks for requesting <3

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 602 words

“Baby,” Sirius sighs, wiping under your eyes while you sniffle and try to act like your tears aren’t falling. “You can’t let them get to you like this, gorgeous.” 

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” Your voice comes out bitter; Sirius tells himself it’s not aimed at him. 

Sirius gnaws at his lip, taking a moment to look at you while you look at your lap, a stubborn dam of tears shining in your eyes. He wants desperately to make a joke, to make light of what’s happened in the way that always helps him get through these things, but he suspects that’s not what you need right now. You’d come home red-faced and ranting, but it hadn’t taken more than one word from Sirius for your angry facade to crumple. The protective ire that had propelled you home was faded, leaving behind a frustrated sort of hurt. 

“I hope you don’t mean me,” Sirius says, shuffling closer to you on the couch so that his thigh is half atop yours. “I can take care of myself, sweetness. Trust me, you don’t need to be angry on my behalf.” 

“I’m just—they called you—” Your face screws up in indignant fury, even as a new wave of tears breaks hot and fast down your cheeks. “I just don’t get why anybody thinks they know more than us about our relationship.” 

Sirius blows out a breath. Any other time, he’d be the one fuming, but when it’s you that gets like this, it’s like calm rushes over him to balance you out. He doesn’t know how you do it most of the time; he much prefers being the one to rage. “But we know they have no idea what they’re talking about,” he reminds you. “It’s none of their fucking business, okay?” 

You squeeze your eyes closed, probably trying to keep more tears at bay. When you open them, the fight seems to have gone out of you. Somehow, this is worse. Sirius’ chest aches for you. 

“I know,” you say, softer now. Your hand comes up to hold his face, fingers weaving into his hair hardly an inch below the barrette keeping it out of his face, and Sirius can guess what those pricks said to you. About him. He’s not unused to comments on how he presents himself, but he can understand why you’ve gotten so upset; if someone said that sort of thing about you, he’d open his mouth to yell and flames would come bursting out. 

“Hey,” he says. “You like the way you look, right? And you like the way I look?”

He bats his eyelashes at you when you glance up, and you smile just like he hoped you would. It’s a small, tired thing, but he’ll take it. 

“Yeah,” you answer him. 

“Good.” Sirius mirrors you, placing his hand on the side of your face. “Then if those fuckers want to say that you wear the pants, let ‘em.” He leans down, kissing the soft, ticklish spot underneath your jaw. “Pants are uncomfortable as hell. You can have them, honey.” 

You’re laughing by the time he’s finished talking, and Sirius nips at you as you squirm away from him. 

“But if you want to try and be more traditional, I could get on top for a change,” he says, holding you in place while you cackle and writhe. “What do you think, gorgeous? Want to satisfy those conservative pricks?”

“No,” you say, panting as you shove him off you. “No. I don’t want them affecting anything we do.” 

Sirius grins. “That’s my girl. Let’s show ‘em, love.”