#it’s to go forward to somewhere new where I do and learn new things and become a new version of me

[simpingforbots]

*hi-hi, can I request Alpha Trion and his ward (reader) who studied with him when he was a sparkling, now (reader) has grown up, and they saw each other again, (reader) had to change his character and color (I hope I put it correctly) in order not to be killed, (the reader) is incredibly glad to see his teacher again and cried and hugged to death

I am more then happy to do request from any one and the idea sounded so cute. i hope you will enjoy it dear friend.

Little sparkling - big cat

Another day in Iacon city filled with all buissy life – every one had somewhere to be, something to do. Even Primes. Being leaders of entire nation was not easy – they had to deal with laws, taxes, had to attend courts and just make sure every thing ran smooth.

Alpha Trion let out a grumble of exhaustion, tossing another tablet on to the table, next to the other neatly stacked pile of it. Laws. Why they had to be so difficult to deal with. Not a day passes by where there is a new document brought to him by Sentinel about some new law, some one misbehaving or reports about quintessons. He is tiered of this, but he has to keep on going. A sudden noise of small peds alerted him, moving a hand away from his aching head and turned to the side, to see a little sparkling happily run in to archives. Without a second of though, he smiled.

“Ah, I see it is another day for our  little adventure? – he chuckled softly, getting up from his chair.

This little sparkling was one if a few thing he was looking forward seeing. Every day this little sparkling would make it’s way here, away from their proto-hatcher, all way up here just to have a field day in archives. Trion still remembers the first day he saw them, seating by the shelf, wiggling their little peds as they scrolled though pad for sparkling’s, grinning widely. They did not even noticed him until it was to late, looking up with big orange optics filled with shock. After that he made sure that this little one was safe and would be happy every time this sparkling visited them, with permission of their proto-hatcher of course.

He chuckled softly as the little one giggled and hugged his ped, looking up at him with happiness, excited for another history lesson. Not wanting to disappoint them Alpha Trion lifted them up, comfortable settling them in his arms.

“Ready? What shell we learn about today?” he asked with smile, walking though countless shelf with sparkling looking around with wide eyes like of they were in a candy store “how about we learn something” Trion hummed as he scanned though pads “ah, there we go”

He pulled one pad out and turned it on, the bright light attracting sparkling’s opticks towards it, focusing on letters. He gently moved it closer to them, letting their little digits wrap around what must be huge pad for them and slowly read out what the pad said.

“M. Ma. Marti. Martial art. Martial arts!” proud of them self the sparkling looked up with smile, hugging the pad “what’s martial arts?”

“it’s art of fighting” little one let out a gasp of amusement, smiling even wider, earning a chuckle from Trion “I knew you would like something like this. You look like a fighting spirit.”

“Fighting spirit?” small one coked their head, confused “what is that?”

“it means you are strong” Trion explained, returning to the table, settling little one on table. “ so, do you want me to read or?

“I want to! I can do it “ the little one proudly proclaimed, making Trion’s spark flicker with warmth. It only been few cycle since they started reading by them self and they were very proud of this achievement. Though, even if Trion was embarrassed to admit it, he would miss reading for them. He leaned on table, supporting his head with his arm as he pationly listened to little one started reading the pad. Stumbling over some word, with which he helped. It was a very peaceful moment and he craved it very much. This little ball of joy brought peace to his turbulent life and he started thinking of something. What of he can train them? They look interested by the book about martial arts, so why not to teach them. Surely he will have to be a bit harsher, yet still, it be nice to have them by his side. After all he sort of though of them as his sparkling as well. And not that their proto-hatcher would mind it. They seemed quite happy to know that their little one was under his care. He watched them read with peace, time to time saying hi to his fellow primes, who would swoop in to place some more work pads on his table and coo over the little one. After some time the little one came upon images of different and did their best to copy the moves, making Trion certain of what he wanted to do. After that day he started taking little sparkling to training grounds, showing different moves, which they instantly copied. He was right, this little one has a good potential in them.

He watched them grow with every sickle and soon they were grown bot, getting more and more taller and wiser, almost growing taller then him, almost reaching Megatronus tall stature, which was a surprise for him. And they also grew closer to him. They were always by his side, keeping an eye from anything out of place, ready to though them self in front of any dagger, which Trion appreciated, but whished they would not.

“Say, little one” he spoke softly, looking up from another pad, staring at tall bot by his side, who stood motionless, keeping any eye on door frame “How is your proto-hatcher. Haven’t herd from them for a while.

“they are alright. Buissy a bit” ward replied, keeping straight face.

“hm.... my Primus this is boring” Trion stood up, immideatly getting his wards attention “how about a little break”

“sure” a soft familiar smile appeared on the stern face, knowing well what one of 13 Primes meant.

They followed Trion in to archive, where he picked up a pad about some legend, seating down on the floor, crossing his legs. They joined him as well, seating close by them and happily listened to them read, something that Trion insisted on. They set there for a while, getting a bit of rest from every thing.

----

Years, no, centuries pass by and little ward was tiered. They had to go in to hiding as false Prime rose to power, changing their colour and even body, all to avoid being hunted down by Arachnid. They knew something that Sentinel did not wanted to be a publick knowledge, and being Alpha Trions ward did not made it easier. They had to flee the Iacon, hiding above and scavenging for any energon they could find, time to time even raiding the trains for some just to make it thought. It was hard. The constant threat of Quintessons, constant bickering with once High guards made it hard for them. But after some years they grew close to this environment, knowing well what to and not to do in order to make another day. So it was shocking to see 4 cybertonians  out so openly. They rushed forward, helping them evade the scan’s of quintessons by hiding under old building, notisisng how small they were. It’s not normal for grown mechs to be this size? Until they saw their empty slots for t-cogs. It made them seethe with rage. Did Sentinel really was willing to step so low as to steal other’s T-cog just o make end with deal he made with Quintessons? They want to rip him apart. So they decided to join the stranded miners on their little adventure, hopping to at least see the grave of their Master one last time. They ventured though and found a cave, where was the last resting ground of Primes. It was a sombre sight. They all were left there, to rust away and be claimed by green, like some kind of criminals. Hell even criminals don’t deserve this. They simmered with anger until Orion called out and their turned to see what was the commotion.

Trion. Their spark still glowed with soft blue light and a sliver of hope rushed through their brain, as they rushed forward. Orion fed the rusted Trion an energon, and like a miracle, Alpha Trion rejuvenated. He stumbled a bit, saying something, ready to fight, only to be caught by someone before he could fall. It took some time to get used to his eyes again after what seemed like centuries of being offline, looking around. Bots. He can see bots, small for some reason. Where they still young? No, something was wrong. What happened to their chest, why they were empty. What is going on?

“Alpha Trion?”

Was that? He quickly looked around trying to spot a source of this familiar voice, looking around wide eyed. But there was no little one, instead there was a different bot – tall, dark plating, red eyes, they were nothing like the little sparkling he watch grow with bright paint and golden yellow eyes. He had to push him self up, but the bot refused to let him do it by him self, helping him up.

“are you alright? Oh primus what happened?”

After some second it clicked. He though his hand up, wrapping his hand aorund the brought shoulder of strange mech, staring at them with wide eyes. It could not be this. It is not right. The sparkling he grew was soft, had soft features, not sharp fingers, fangs and sharp edges. But the voice. The soft and worried eyes. It could not be.

“Little one”

Without even a second the tall mech wrapped them self around Trion, pulling him closer to them, letting out quite sobs and apologies, blaming them self for not able to keep them safe. Trion could not bring him self to blame them to begin with. It was never their fault, they did their best. He hugged them back, letting a heavy sigh. He will make sure Sentinel pays for all the pain he caused to his little sparkling. Even if they are no longer small.

[chirpovs]

sometimes you leave your home behind

and that doesn’t mean that you don’t think about it, that doesn’t mean you don’t look back with an ache in your chest and wish you could go home again

but that doesn’t mean you will go back because that ache is for the home you had when you left and for the person you were when you left it

and you are not them anymore and it is not the same

instead, sometimes home is in going forward and finding a new one

or not finding a new one, just going forward

because life is too short to be going backwards and though we might look back with sadness and nostalgia, we must keep moving forwards

[pathologicalreid]

heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕

If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)

Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)

three's a family | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think

“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.

Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”

Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.

You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.

Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.

Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.

You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”

Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?

Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.

As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”

Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.

“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.

Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.

You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”

He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.

Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”

Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”

Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”

While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.

“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.

Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”

Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.

He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.

“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.

In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”

Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”

“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”

You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”

For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.

Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.

He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."

You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.

By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.

Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.

You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.

“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.

Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.

You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”

Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.

At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.

With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.

You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.

Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”

When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.

He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.

“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.

As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“

“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.

Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”

Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”

He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”

Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.” 

You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.

When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.

Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.

Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.

“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”

Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”

In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”

He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”

“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.

You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.

The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.

Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.

Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.

According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.

Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”

“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.

Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.

The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”

Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.

Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.

The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.

“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.

Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.

Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.

“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”

[unabashegirl]

Love Island (one shot) – sneak peek

Harry’s arrival on Love Island stirs Y/N’s feelings, sparking tension with her partner, Tom, and the rest of the ladies, as she’s drawn to Harry’s charm and intrigue.

Author's note: Hello everyone! Here is the concept of the new one shot that has been posted on my Patreon. I hope you enjoy the sneak peek. Let me know what you think!

The italics is the narrator just like in LOVE ISLAND!

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to the rest of the chapters, various one shots and much more :)

Tom’s lips tightened, and he gave a small nod. “Fair enough. I can’t stop you from seeing where things go. I mean, you’re right—it is early days. Just�� give me a heads-up if you start to feel like it’s going somewhere else, yeah?”

“Of course,” she assured him, offering him a warm smile. “I’ll always be honest with you, Tom. That’s a promise.”

He smiled, though it looked a bit forced, then let out a sigh, looking back towards the villa. “Right then. Just have to up my game a bit, won’t I?”

Y/N chuckled, nudging him. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Just keep being you.”

But will that be enough, Tom? With Harry’s arrival in the villa, we might just see if Tom can hold his own—or if his steady confidence starts to crack.

After Tom walked off, Y/N settled back into her lounger, taking a slow sip of her coffee. The warmth of the morning sun was comforting, and she let herself enjoy the peace, though her mind kept drifting to Harry.

Across the patio, Harry was surrounded by a small group of girls, each one caught up in his easy charm. There was Georgia, always the first to get a word in; her dark hair bounced as she laughed at one of his jokes, flashing him a look that said she was more than intrigued. Beside her was Chloe, who toyed with her braid as she angled closer, her gaze fixed on him, and Lila, who had barely left his side since his arrival. They all hung on his every word, their laughter blending with his deep chuckles.

Y/N watched him, noticing the way he seemed effortlessly at ease, making each of the girls feel like they were the only ones there. He was charming, no doubt, and that little smirk of his told her he knew exactly what he was doing. There was something magnetic about him; he was the kind of person you couldn’t help but notice.

Then, as if sensing her gaze, Harry’s eyes lifted, meeting hers across the patio. The moment their eyes connected, a playful glint flickered in his. His smile softened, turning into that cheeky grin she was beginning to recognize. He said something to the girls that made them all laugh again, and then, with a quick apology, excused himself from the group.

Y/N’s heart gave a little jump as she saw him walking towards her, the confidence in his stride obvious as he crossed the patio. When he reached her, he didn’t sit right away. Instead, he leaned forward, his arms resting on the back of her lounger, his face close enough that she could catch the faint scent of the sea on his skin.

“Morning,” he said, his voice smooth, that smirk never leaving his lips. “Didn’t expect to catch you staring.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, raising an eyebrow. “Staring? I was just observing… thought I’d get a better sense of what all the fuss is about.”

He chuckled, settling himself on the edge of her lounger without breaking eye contact. “Ah, so you were curious, then. Good to know I’ve got your attention, even if just a little.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she replied, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “I was just checking to see if you were actually as charming as you think you are.”

He tilted his head, feigning contemplation. “And? What’s the verdict, then?”

She shrugged, pretending to consider it. “I think it’s too early to tell. But I’ll let you know if you manage to impress me.”

Harry leaned back, grinning. “Challenge accepted. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t come over here to see if I could learn a bit more about you too.”

“Oh, really?” she teased, crossing her arms as she watched him. “So, the big mystery man’s got questions?”

“Maybe one or two.” His gaze softened, the playful edge giving way to a hint of sincerity. “Like, what exactly is a girl like you looking for in here?”

She held his gaze, considering her answer for a moment. “Honestly, someone genuine,” she said, her tone earnest. “It’s easy to get caught up in all the surface stuff, but I’m hoping to find something real. Something that lasts.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Right. Thought I’d take a risk, try something new.” His voice softened, a touch of vulnerability creeping in. “Been a while since I let anyone in.”

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade. She felt a spark, a warmth that hadn’t been there before, and she knew he felt it too.

“Alright then, Harry the risk-taker,” she said, breaking the silence with a playful smile. “Let’s see if you’re as good as you say.”

Harry’s cheeky grin returned, the playfulness back in his eyes. “Oh, you’ve got no idea what I’m capable of, Y/N.”

Looks like Y/N’s little morning coffee break has turned into something a bit more steamy than she bargained for. With Tom on edge and Harry moving in, she may have her hands full. So, who’s in it for the long haul? Stay tuned.

[moonstruckmoony]

A Ravenclaw Lunch 🦅

Drew some of my favorite Ravenclaws on this platform. Although one isn't necessarily a Ravenclaw. (@traceyc-uk I genuinely thought he was a Ravenclaw when I first saw him lol but I saw your comment reply somewhere that your first playthrough was Ravenclaw so I think this counts… a bit? 😂)

This post is basically a peace offering (and a love letter) bcs I want to make more Ravenclaw friends 👀👉🏻👈🏻 definitely not because I'm obsessed with you guys' MCs

I swear it was supposed to be a silly doodle at first but idk how or when down the line but somehow it turned into this mega drawing. Took me weeks to finish it. I’m not happy with a few technical things especially lights and shadows… and some other things as well but I leave it be bcs I’m aware that I’m still learning 🥲 The rest I’m pretty satisfied with, I’m just happy that I got to finally finish this.

Front row (left to right):

Violet and Pearl Castellar by @vienguinn Omg HAPPY BELATED BELATED BIRTHDAY TO THESE BABIES! These 2 are some of my favorites and everytime you post I always open my phone real quick, your short comics are my comfort 🩵

Clora Clemons by @choccy-milky I cannot not draw Clora?!!?! I consider you a legend in this fandom tbh 👑 also I want to thank you bcs your fic and illustrations literally helped me go through my stressful period when I was at my lowest bcs of my new demanding job that I started half a year ago. I look forward to your post everytime and your Clora and Seb always heals my soul 😭🩵💚

Sally Salamander by @siboom777 Sally is just so wacky and unapologetically herself and I love her for it 🩵 Does she take commissions for toys tho?

Marvin Jerry by @runicxraven MY LOVELY SILLY ADORABLE LITTLE NERD 💗💗💗💗 I need more Marvin in my life honestly.

@najiang ‘s MC - I’m so so sorry I didn’t draw her full face😭, I tried my best to show her face as much as I can while still looking like she’s taking those sausages haha. But anyway please know that I love your art so so much and I kept going back to the curry one and the one where MC came across Amit with beard as adults (that one is hilarious). Idk if your MC has a name or you left it nameless? I assume it was the latter but if she has one I’d love to know!

Faustine Daemon by @faustinio27 Hey, a fellow INFJ! Winter is the same 🩵 I really love her story and especially her personality character sheet, you drew her expressions really well and I’m a fan!

Back row (left to right):

Oliver Lennox by @pixie-dustss Handsome boi 🥰 We’re friends already (I hope I’m not the only one who thinks that way 🫢) from TikTok and you made me a video for Secret Santa last year and I just found out recently that you’re on Tumblr too so I want to say thanks by drawing Oliver! 🩵🩵🩵

Aurélie Collins by @morelikeravenbore I loove this look for Aura, she just looks so chic with the hat and scarf 😭🩵 Sassy Ravenclaw bebe 🥰 My Winter has some French heritage (the lore is still rotting in my notebook bcs I haven’t had the chance to draw her family members 🥲) so I do hope they can be friends and Aura would teach her French bcs she can’t speak much of it 👉🏻👈🏻

Alistair Dusk by @speedysart Surprise! You commented on my last speedpaint on Tiktok yesterday and I want to spill this art so bad but I was almost done so I kept my mouth shut haha. I love the pretty boi’s hair and piercings, and the fact that you chose this blazer for him, I just love it he looks so dapper in that 😣🩵

Eleonora Russel by @zordanna I love sweet Eleonora and her fascination with the moon and stars 🩵🌌 Oh and I kept coming back to your “I feel like an orange” Tiktok bcs it’s so fluffy and it heals my stress… also I adore your art it’s super soft and painty and delicate 🥹💗

@traceyc-uk ‘s MC - YOUR MC. I SWEAR TO MERLIN HE’S ON MY MIND 24/7 LATELY. Not sure why, it’s probably bcs I kept re-reading your comics. Also bcs he’s an adorable little golden retriever (but also a fierce cat!😼) You’re super talented in drawing comics and facial expressions, I have a lot to learn especially in terms of layouting… last time I made a comic I hated the layout and the fact that it looks stiff to me, so your comics has been such an inspiration!

[thecharacterchronicler]

Memorable || Sebastian Sallow x Reader || Smut

Outline: Sebastian invites you to the ball, the very first one you get to attend at Hogwarts. After learning that you have yet a few more first times to experience, he vows to make this night memorable for both of you.

Word count: 5’595

Warnings: Aged up characters, first time sex and explicit smut.

Sebastian was sitting on the grass, his textbook opened and resting on his legs. Despite the soft spring rays of sunshine warming his face, the birds singing in the trees and your quiet presence right next to him, he still felt nervous.

He stared at you in awe of how beautiful your eyes looked in bright sunlight, how shiny and soft your hair seemed to be, how the first two buttons of your blouse were popped open and how he could catch a glimpse of a forbidden sight every time you slightly leaned forward to turn the page of your own textbook, scribbling notes on the parchment on your lap. He had suggested you studied together this afternoon, which wasn’t such an uncommon occurrence, but this time, getting himself to focus on anything else but you proved close to impossible.

“Hey, what are the two of you up to ?” A familiar voice asked. Sebastian managed to peel his eyes away from you to see Garreth Weasley, making his way to you with a friendly smile on his face.

“Studying.” You replied, barely looking up at him which somehow pleased Sebastian more than what he’d want to admit. “You should do the same if you want to pass your exam.”

“A wise advice.” Garreth replied, shaking his head as he sat down on the grass next to you.

Sebastian groaned. Getting you to agree to a study session with him without letting Ominis know about it had been harder than what he anticipated since the three of you were almost always together but he had managed to make it happen, but Garreth joining you wasn’t something he had planned on. He wanted to be alone with you… Not to mention that he didn’t like the way the redheaded gryffindor had decided to sit, so close to you, his knee almost touching yours…

“Oh look, there they are.” Sebastian said, pointing behind you to redirect Garreth’s attention somewhere other than on the parchment paper on your lap, where your skirt was slightly pulled up and letting a silver of your skin appear.

You and Garreth both turned around in time to see a group of Beauxbâtons students passing by. They had arrived a few days earlier along with students from Durmstrang for the Triwizard tournament organized at Hogwarts. This year being the ten year anniversary of the tournament, Professor Black had decided to make it special by hosting it in the middle of spring instead of waiting until winter.

The French students were so elegantly dressed, walking graciously towards the castle like a fascinating herd of absolutely gorgeous creatures. Sebastian knew the new students were Garreth’s current obsession, he even knew he kept failing to find the courage to invite one of them to the ball so, as expected, the young man jumped on his feet to take a better look at the light blue airy uniforms passing by, even awkwardly waving in their direction.

Unfortunately for him, none of the French girls paid him any mind, only one of them shooting a bright smile in Sebastian’s direction before vanishing inside the castle. Sebastian had smiled back at her instinctively, without really thinking about it, but the exchange between him and the Beauxbatons student didn’t go unnoticed, causing him to face Garreth’s envious disbelief and your dark stare.

“I think you caught the attention of the one with the long legs and plump lips, you lucky bastard.”

“I was just being friendly.” Sebastian argued, unsure of how to interpret the way you were staring at him. The only thing he knew was that he was in imminent danger of an ancient magic lighting hitting him if he didn’t justify himself quickly enough.

“I get it, I really want to be friendly with them too. All of them. At the same time.” Garreth continued, with a stupid smile on his face.

“Alright, you guys can drool together all you want but I have to study so I’ll find a quieter place to do so.” You snapped, closing your book and rolling your parchement papers with impatience.

“Wait.” Sebastian demanded but you were already walking away. He watched you until you reached the doors leading back inside the castle. Maybe you were dressed in a plain gray uniform like everybody else in Hogwarts, maybe you weren’t that gracious while walking around the castle but by Merlin, you were the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on. Those girls from Beauxbâtons were so elegant and full of poise which seemed to seduce pretty much every other guy but not him. Sebastian Sallow couldn’t care less about elegance, decorum or grace, because all he wanted was you and the beautifully chaotic way you fought against poachers, ennemies and acromentulas. You and the insanely hot way you always beat him up at duels. You.

“Dammit, Garreth.” He groaned, looking up at him and noticing how he still was very clearly lost in his daydreams about the Beauxbatons girls. “I wanted to ask her to go to the ball with me.”

“Who ? Long legs and plump lips ?”

“No, you idiot.” He replied, rolling his eyes. “I swear if I missed my chance because of you and someone else asks her…”

“Well, I heard Leander talking about inviting her the other day so maybe you should hurry up.”

Sebastian cursed under his breath, packing his books and quickly stood back up. He reached for Garreth’s shoulder, forcefully pulling him with him as he headed to the castle to follow on your steps.

“I’m going to need your help.” Sebastian explained, the gryffindor cloak of his friend tightly balled up in his fist as he dragged him along until they reached the library doors. “Mrs Scribner banned me from the library for the rest of the semester so we’re going to have to be careful… and creative.”

“What the hell did you even do for her to go to such extremes ? Usually she only gives you detention.”

“Err, I might have damaged a few pieces of furniture when I broke into the restricted section… Turns out those armchairs really aren’t sturdy enough to resist the embers of a few confrigo spells shot at the restricted section gates… And old books ? Highly inflammable.”

Garreth quietly nodded at him, no stranger to such incidents himself. Together, they sneaked inside the library, stopping to hide behind the first bookshelf, out of sight from Scribner’s desk. Both leaned over to take a look, easily spotting you sitting at a nearby table, all alone.

Sebastian called your name, as quietly as he could but you didn’t hear him. Garreth tried making random sounds, as if you would be more keen to answer to a bad imitation of an owl shriek rather than your own name, but nothing worked, you stayed focused on your homework.

…Homework ? Brillant.

Sebastian opened his texbook, retrieving a crumpled piece of parchement on which he scribbled something. He balled up the paper in his hand and peeked from behind the bookshelf, aiming at you and throwing the ball of parchement, hitting the back of your head. You barely moved in reaction, looking around but not where he was hiding from the librarian.

He scribbled another note and repeated the process, this time the ball of paper getting caught in your hair. He heard your loud, annoyed, sigh from afar as you pulled his note out of your locks and placed it on the table next to your book without giving it a second thought.

“And this is the hero of Hogwarts.” He grumbled, rolling his eyes. Garreth let out an amused sound, reminding your slytherin friend of his presence. “Go see her, tell her to check the notes.”

“What ?! Why me ?” Garreth asked, a bit too loudly.

“Because if Scribner catches me here, I’ll probably get expelled.” Sebastian reminded him. It was only fair that Garreth helped him since he was the one who had ruined his first plan but the young man seemed pretty uncomfortable at the thought. “What are you scared of ?”

“Her.” He admitted, without hesitation. “She’s in a bad mood because you flirted with the Beauxbâtons girl and I know better than to go and face her wrath.”

“I did not flirt with that girl… Now, go!” He pushed him out of their hiding place and Garreth hesitantly walked towards you, glancing over his shoulder a few times to make sure Sebastian didn’t change his mind.

You didn’t notice him standing next to you right away, too busy taking notes on a chapter until he cleared his throat, making you jump.

“By Merlin, what do you want ?” You asked him, slightly annoyed to be interrupted while studying once again.

“Err, Sebastian says you need to check the notes.” Garreth repeated, awkwardly glancing to the bookshelf behind which Sebastian was still hiding.

“The notes ?” You repeated, confused, wondering if it had something to do with your homework until Garreth pointed at the ball of crumpled paper on the table. You reached for it, smoothing it so that you could read a single word written in runny blue ink.

“Ball ?” You read out loud, looking at Garreth for an explanation but he clearly had none. You turned around and bended down to pick up the other ball that he pointed to, still on the floor, and repeated your gesture to smooth out the wrinkled paper. “With ?”

What were they up to ? Was it a prank ? A joke ? Because you definitely didn’t have time for that, not so close to your exam.

You looked up to where Garreth kept nervously glancing, seeing Sebastian’s freckled face peeking from behind a shelf. Your eyes met but he didn’t register it quickly enough to stop his movement as he aimed another balled up note right at your face.

Ouch. It hit your nose before falling on the floor.

He mouthed a quiet sorry in your direction and you shook your head disapprovingly before picking up the last note.

“Me ?” You read, placing the wrinkled notes next to each other, like a puzzle. “Ball with me ?”

You looked at Sebastian again. A slight pink blush was now coloring his cheeks as he anxiously stared back at you.

“Well ? What do I tell him ?” Garreth asked, unable to remain still any longer.

“Oh uh… Tell him to meet me tomorrow afternoon in the gardens.” You replied. Your friend seemed to find the answer odd but didn’t say anything, simply walking back to Sebastian to rely the message to him.

Sebastian listened intently then looked at you again, a confused expression on his face. So you shyly nodded at him and a smile slowly appeared on his lips. He felt himself bursting with joy and pride that you accepted his proposal, even forgetting that he was persona non grata in the library as he fully stepped out of his hiding spot before Scribner’s voice reminded him of what he risked if he got caught. So, with one last smile in your direction, he ran off before she could spot him, leaving you to your studies with a silly smile on your face too.

The next afternoon, Sebastian met you as promised at the same place you had attempted to study together the day before. You weren’t too sure what to say or do as he walked to you, the question of whether he had asked you to go to the ball with him as a friend or as something more had kept you awake all night long. The only way to know for sure would be to ask him, but you couldn’t quite gather the courage to do so. Not yet.

Instead, you awkwardly led him further away from the mass of other students, behind a tall bush and on a small patch of wildflowers. You stood with your head held high in front of him, trying to fake the confidence you suddenly lacked in his presence, his coy smile making it even harder to keep your composure and not melt in front of him right away.

“I’d like to practice.” You told him, a bit embarrassed to admit that you didn’t know how to dance. Not properly. Not like the Beauxbâtons girls probably did.

“Practice dancing ?”

“Yes. Do you think you could… teach me ?”

A faint amused smile appeared on Sebastian’s face, instantly making you regret asking for his help. He was probably going to laugh at you for lacking such a basic skill in this time and age...

“Of course.” He simply said, stepping closer until he was able to place his hand on your hip, the warmth of his skin radiating on your own through your skirt. He outstretched his other arm to the side, his palm up to welcome your hand in his. You followed his lead, resting your other hand on his shoulder, the unusual proximity between you leaving you breathless for a moment.

He took a step to the side and you followed a bit late and again when he stepped back, unable to properly anticipate his movements. You stared at your feet, trying to follow his lead and after a while, you felt like you were getting slightly better at it…

“Now ideally, you should be looking at me.” He instructed, amused by how complicated it seemed to be for you to let him lead you while he was so comfortable swaying to imaginary music.

You looked up to his brown eyes, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

“When did you learn how to dance ?” You asked him, in an attempt to make small talk so that you wouldn’t be staring into his hypnotizingly beautiful eyes in silence.

“Years ago, with Anne. Ever since our first year at Hogwarts she’s been looking forward to the balls. Back then she promised that if I practiced dancing with her, she’d let me borrow her books on advanced metamorphosis.”

“A deal you couldn’t possibly refuse.” You smiled, imagining a young Sebastian dancing with his twin and pretending that it wasn’t fun.

“Obviously.” He smiled back, as you realized that you had managed to follow his steps without looking for a moment.

With his face so close to yours, smiling at each other, it was almost tempting to lean just a little bit closer and see what would happen if you pressed your lips against his. Would he step away ? Would he return the kiss ? The way he was looking down at you made you feel like the latter was the most plausible outcome but you didn’t have much time to ponder as he suddenly attempted to twirl you around… And you crashed against his body instead of gracefully turning in his arms.

“Sorry, it’s my first time doing this.” You said, feeling the need to justify yourself.

“Will it be your first ball ?” He asked, curious.

“First ball, first dance, first date…”

His eyes sparked with excitement and some kind of mischief at your words, prompting him to try to twirl you again just so that you’d crash into him once more. With your chest pressed against his, he held you closer and tighter, looking down at your face with a smirk.

“You can count on me to make all your first times memorable then.” He promised.

“Will you please stop it, Sebastian ? The whole bench is trembling because you keep bouncing your leg.” Ominis complained.

Sebastian tried to still his body, taking a deep breath to appease the growing nervousness inside of him but a few seconds later he was back at absently bouncing his leg again, causing Ominis to sigh in despair.

After a few afternoons of practicing dancing with you, Sebastian felt comfortable and rather confident doing it. Especially with you. It had been the highlight of his day for the few days leading up to the ball, he’d joined you behind that bush and get to hold you in his arms for an hour or so, swaying with you and pulling you close every once in a while, each time getting dangerously closer to letting his instinct kick in and passionately kissing you… But he had promised himself that he would be on his best behavior with you, that he’d be a gentleman, and that he’d make your first ball as amazing as it could be.

But he just couldn’t help it but feel nervous. It wasn’t a quiet dance in the garden anymore but a real party with music, nice clothes and other people around. He was worried everything would be different this way, and mostly, he was worried that after this night, he wouldn’t get to share with you such intimate moments like you did while practicing anymore.

He tugged on his collar, adjusted his vest and ran a hand through his brown hair. He had tried to comb them back in the same way Ominis did with his but his hair were too unruly to fully comply with that idea, some locks already shooting in different directions and sometimes grazing his forehead.

All the students old enough to attend the ball were making their way to the ballroom, excitedly chatting and laughing. The crowd was growing outside the doors as well, young people dressed in gorgeous gowns and suits waiting for their date to arrive.

Sebastian spotted Garreth and Leander entering the ballroom together and smiled mockingly at the realization that neither of them had been able to find a date. A while later, Poppy shyly approached, dressed in a pretty extravagant yellow dress for such a usually quiet girl. She complimented Ominis on his white costume and they awkwardly linked their arms together as they left Sebastian on his own.

His stomach tightened as the possibility that maybe you had changed your mind and didn’t plan on attending anymore occurred to him. Or maybe you had decided to go with someone else at the last minute. Maybe a guy from Durmstrang convinced you to sneak out with him instead and would steal all your first times from him…

But then, he saw you.

From the moment you walked in, everyone else disappeared from his sight, leaving only you in your gorgeous dress. You were like a vision, something otherworldly and he couldn’t believe that it was him you were walking towards. How did he get so lucky ?

“Good evening.” You greeted him, with a smile but he didn’t return it right away, too busy staring at you in awe of your beauty.

“You look… You are beautiful.” He said, nervously pulling on his collar again.

“Thanks. You look pretty good yourself.”

He smiled, glad that you liked the all black suit he had bought for the event. It had costed him more than what he had budgeted, but he was determined to look his best for you. He offered you his arm and you took it, gladly using it to keep you balance as you walked down the stairs in your impressive ball gown and uncomfortable shoes.

You entered the ballroom together, marveling at how beautifully the decor was and how lovely the music playing sounded. You tried the buffet, eating and drinking merrily at a table with your friends before putting your dance practice to good use. Sebastian twirled you around, bended you over and even kept you closer than required for a few dances, making you laugh and smile joyfully while having a great time.

But unfortunately, it was all over too soon, the party coming to an end as more and more students left the ballroom. Soon, Sebastian and you were the only ones left still swaying to the music, the few last couples quickly grabbing something to eat or drink before heading to bed.

“Maybe we should go.” You told your date, reluctantly. Both of you could have continued dancing and holding each other like this forever.

Sebastian nodded as the last song ended, releasing your from his embrace. He walked you out of the ballroom, leaving the magical decor and the soft music behind. In the hall, faint sunlight was already shining behind the windows, indicating it was very early morning. He looked down at you, the thought of letting you go back to your dorm and be separated from you again feeling all too overwhelming suddenly.

But what other choice did he have ? Maybe next year, after you both graduated from Hogwarts he could ask you to move in with him in Feldcroft, or maybe he could follow you wherever you wanted to go… But for a few more months, you still were students and had no choice but to each sleep separately.

Resigned, Sebastian quietly walked you back to your dorm, adjusting his pace to yours and your aching feet and tired legs. Once you reached the entrance of your common room, you turned around to look at him, unsure of what to say apart from wishing him a good night.

“And thank you for such a memorable first time.” You added, with a smile.

His eyes darkened slightly at your words, giving him a sudden unexplainable need to share many more first times with you. So, as a rush of pure adrenaline seized him, he stepped closer and his lips crashed against yours, kissing you more feverishly than you imagined he would. Your first kiss.

He pressed his body against yours, his hands finding the small of your back. He deepened the kiss and, with the strength of his own body, forced you to take a few steps back until you were both inside the - relative - privacy of your common room.

“You shouldn’t, if someone catches you here you’ll get detention.” You reminded him, knowing the intrusion of a slytherin inside your dorm would cause quite a scandal if anyone heard about it.

“I don’t care.” Sebastian replied, silencing your worries with another hungry kiss.

All he ever knew was the Slytherin common room and dorms, he had never stepped inside any other students quarters during his seven years at Hogwarts. Of course, he had always been curious about the other houses’ dorms. He often said he would love to see what they looked like, to compare them to his own but now that he finally was inside one of those forbidden areas, he couldn’t care less about what it looked like. The only thing that mattered to him at this very moment was where he could find a couch - or a table, anything would do - to lay you down so that he could take that dress off of you.

The common room was plunged in darkness at this hour, the only light coming from the dying fire in the chimney and filtering through the tainted glass windows. You bumped into an armchair and he cursed when his shoulder hit a stone statue, but he kept walking you backwards until you could no longer move, your legs pressed against the back of the sofa facing the fireplace.

Finally.

Sebastian allowed his hands to roam over the fabric of your dress, stopping at your shoulders and slowly peeling the straps off until they loosely rested on your arms. Then, he gripped the soft fabric over your belly, pulling it down in a torturously slow motion, revealing your skin inch by inch.

“We might get caught.” You warned him, in a whisper.

Probably. But he was too far gone now to step back and walk away. After all this time, daydreaming about what it would feel like to touch you like this, imagining the curves and lines of your body hiding underneath your school uniform, wanting you to be his and only his, he was too close to fulfilling the dangerous desire he had fought against for so long to renounce.

“It’s alright.” He breathed, his fingers grazing your lips as he angled your face in his direction, his brown eyes plunging into yours, a hint of mischief still blazing in his gaze. “You’ll just have to be very quiet.”

You couldn’t quite decide what to do. The consequences you’ll both have to face if you got caught doing this would be enormous… But at the same time, you had wanted this for so long - probably as long as he did - so stopping him and sending him back to his dorm seemed to require a huge amount of willpower and you clearly lacked it. You nervously glance to the stairs leading to the bedrooms, making sure no noise could be heard expect for the faint cracks of the fire and the sound of the wet kisses Sebastian was placing all over your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder…

Your dress pooled around your feet, exposing yourself to him and, although you felt kind of vulnerable like this, the hunger that passed on his face as he took in your almost naked body in front of him was an obvious indication of how desperately he wanted you.

By Merlin, you were beautiful. Even more beautiful than what he ever imagined in his daydreams. You looked like you were made for him, like every curve of your body was perfectly tailored for his hands to caress, like the softness of your skin was an invitation for his kisses and his touch. If his heart wasn’t beating so fast in his chest, he would have wondered if he had died and gone to heaven. Or maybe he was dreaming again, but if it was the case, he sure as hell didn’t want to wake up. Not now. Not before he could lead you around the sofa and lay you down on it, wanting to remember how incredible you looked in this very moment, with the dark leather of the couch around you and the warm light of the chimney flashing in your eyes.

He quickly took off his vest and unbutonned his shirt, feeling like his body was on fire. His pants were getting alarmingly tighter around his growing erection. Everything inside him was begging to have you. Right here, right now. But he knew better than to rush things. He wanted to savor this, make sure that if it was his only opportunity to have you, he’ll take his sweet time to carve each moment in his memory forever.

He sat at the end of the couch, his hands finding your thighs and attempting to push them apart but you stayed still under his gentle touch, nervousness rising in you.

“I’ve never… What if I’m bad at this ? Like I’m bad at dancing.” You admitted, afraid he might be disappointed with you.

“Nonsense.” He said, with a cocky grin. “But I won’t mind if you want to do like we did for dancing and practice every day until you’re comfortable enough.”

You laughed and your body relaxed, allowing him to slowly pull your underwear off and spread your legs apart. Before you could even realize, his face disappeared between your thighs.

Sebastian knew one thing or two about how to make a woman comfortable, all thanks to the forbidden books and journals Garreth had shared with him and Ominis last year. He had made sure to remember every tip and trick written on the pages, understanding that - unlike men - women needed to be prepared and sufficiently aroused in order for them to find an intercourse enjoyable… So he was just doing as advised, running his tongue between your folds. One thing he didn’t expect though was the way you reacted to this new sensation, shuddering with pleasure under his soft licks. He must have been doing something right.

With this welcomed boost to his confidence, he kept moving his tongue over your sensitive skin, exploring and tasting you, finding it surprisingly pleasant and delicious. He could faintly hear your ragged breathing, your thighs pressed against his ears preventing him from focusing on anything else but you and your pleasure. At some point, you reached for his hair, your fingers entangling in his tousled locks, a soft moan leaving your lips which was almost enough to make him cum in his pants.

But he knew it wasn’t it. Not yet.

He had to make sure you were ready to take him. All of him. So he plunged a finger passed your entrance, making sure to keep lapping at your center so that it would still feel pleasurable to you. You trembled in reaction, thighs tightening around his head. He took it as a silent permission to keep going, gently pumping his finger in and out. After a while, he boldly added another one to stretch you out for him a bit more which seemed to surprise you at first but the discomfort you felt quickly faded with his simultaneous - and merciless - treatment of your clit with his tongue.

You arched your back, doing your best to stay quiet as a wave of pleasure completely took hold of you. Sebastian resurfaced in front of you, watching with a satisfied grin as your body shook with the orgasm he had given you, his chest puffed out with pride.

But even though he loved to see you come undone, especially since it was his doing, he couldn’t forget the fully grown and rock hard erection in his pants, almost painfully demanding attention too. He reached for his trousers, if only to free his cock from the tight fabric around it and was surprised to see you spread your legs open again, silently inviting him in for more.

He angled his stiff cock at your entrance, ready to push past your glistening folds but you placed a hand on his bare chest, stopping him.

“Be gentle.” You asked him, before allowing him to continue.

He looked at you with a tender smile, his erection slowly sliding inside you as he leaned over, until his face was close enough to yours to plant a kiss on your lips, a softness that clashed with the overwhelming feeling of his cock stretching your insides. It wasn’t painful but the sensation felt foreign and it took you a moment to get used to it.

Sebastian stayed still, giving you time to adjust to him, leaving a trail of gentle kisses on your lips, cheeks and neck in the process. When he finally felt your body relax, as if it had finally accepted his presence inside you, he attempted to move. Very slowly.

Attentive to the expressions on your face, he made sure to slow down every time you grimaced, until finally, your features told him that you were starting to enjoy his movements as much as he did.

“This feels pretty nice.” You informed him, breathlessly.

Pretty nice ? Was it all it was to you ? Because to him, it felt like fireworks going off in his brain, the feeling of his cock buried inside your warm and wet center, your walls so tight around him was the best thing he ever experienced and if he could have it his way, he’d simply never stop fucking you.

He wanted you to feel as good as he did, not just pretty nice… So he decided to stop worrying about hurting you and finally let go of his restraint, thrusting into you much deeper and quicker than before. You closed your eyes, making him unable to interpret the way you felt about it all anymore. But then, a moan slipped from your lips, making his body tingle with pleasure in reaction. He was making you feel good. Finally.

“Faster.” You demanded, your voice a barely audible plea among your panted breaths.

But Sebastian heard you loud and clear, putting all the strength he had left into his fast thrusts until you tensed all around him, your cry of bliss causing him to release himself inside of you with a loud gasp of relief.

Then, he collapsed on top of you, his face resting on your heaving chest as your body trembled with a pleasure like none other.

“That was…” He started, interrupting himself to catch his breath.

“Memorable ?” You finished, with a giggle.

He agreed, his body feeling so numb that he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to move from on top of you. Not that he wanted to anyway. Now that he had you, he was determined to never let you go again. He’d be the most annoying boyfriend you could ever ask for, he’ll follow you around like a puppy, he’ll do whatever you asked of him and he’ll make sure to kiss and hug you at the most inappropriate and inconvenient times…

A noise resounded up the stairs, suddenly alerting you both, reminding you of what you risked if you got caught by someone in such a compromising situation.

“It must be the prefect.” You whispered, helping Sebastian get off of you so that you could both get up and move. “You need to go.”

You helped him button his shirt up as he tugged his satisfied cock back into his pants. He reached for his vest and you reached for your dress, putting it back on as quickly as you could. Once Sebastian was more or less presentable, he rushed to the door as some footsteps slowly approached the common room. You anxiously looked, hoping he’d be able to get away before your prefect could see him and report him but instead of leaving, he hurried back to you to plant one last kiss on your lips. You quietly giggled, pushing him away after a few seconds to remind him that he needed to go and he did, running off into the deserted corridors and back to his dorm with yet another silly smile plastered on his face, very similar to the one that stayed on yours for the rest of your short night.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

[loveemagicpeace]

9th house of marriage/ travel/ believe💍⛵️🎨

9th house is very beautiful house and have a lot of things that are so amazing. It represent luck, travel, faith, long journeys, adventure, philosophy, teaching, higher education, quest for meaning. It means exploring the unknown and having fun doing it. Wisdom & greater understanding of ourselves and the world around us. Here we seek answers to life’s bigger questions. Get to know the world around you. Learning and growth. And it is also the house of marriage (how do you see marriage , what kind do you want to have, what beliefs do you have about it).

This in signs through houses and I actually believe that 9th house is so much more connected to marriage and wedding live than it is 7th house. 7th house represents the person you love the relationship you want or need & what it is good for you and the marriage you want. And yes it is connected to wedding and which wedding do you want to have or where do you want to have but it’s more like thinking it’s not doing it. And yes 7th house is your first marriage you have and the 9th house is your second marriage (if you have the second marriage)but most likely 9th house is more connected to the spiritual bonding the spiritual marriage do you have with someone. And how marriage grows.

✨Aries in 9th house - you go on with your life inspired by a higher meaning. You feel independent in your own world and love to explore all parts of the world. Above all, this energy is more related to you. You like things that are bold and spontaneous. That's why your wedding can be spontaneous and not expected. It can also mean that you will have a bold wedding. And you want to always have good energy and action in your marriage. It can also be a quick wedding. Your spiritual curiosity keeps your faith at high levels and helps you move forward through the challenges of life.

🦊Taurus in 9th house- you love to travel and you are strongly connected with mother nature. Many of them decide to live far away from where they were born. You explore the world slowly and with pleasure. You like to enjoy life and like to experience the energy of other countries and cultures. Your wedding can be old school. It can have many flowers and it can also be in the garden. Maybe a wedding in a castle or something similar. But it's usually always simple. Your marriage is usually nice and pleasant. You can enjoy a lot with a person and share a lot with them.

🌵Gemini in 9th house-you can learn new things very quickly and you can quickly adapt to a foreign environment. But you also like to change things, which means you like to travel but you don't like to stay in one place for a long time. Even your beliefs can change. You like to discover new things. They like to talk and write on philosophical and religious topics. Marriage may not be a priority for you. But you are the person who will want to have a written promise and read it aloud at the wedding. Your wedding can be very interesting. But it can also mean that you get married more than once.

🏝️Cancer in 9th house- usually, people with this placement feel other places more than their own. Maybe you can feel that your home is somewhere else. And you can spend a long time looking for a place where you will truly feel at home. You have an emotional approach to things you believe in and are important to you. They can travel with their minds a lot, especially when not wanting to be far away from the places they’re used to. Your wedding will be where you will feel the most safe, beautiful and emotionally refined. And in a place where you will feel the energy. It can usually involve more family and people close to you. Your marriage will be emotional, comfortable and safe (maybe it can be with someone you've known for a long time).

🫧Leo in 9th house- you are very passionate when it comes to traveling and you like to experience new things. You like to party. This brings a dynamic and spirited energy to higher learning, spirituality, and exploration. They’re only going places in which they can learn new things and experience something from a spiritual point of view. Inspiration comes easily for them because they’re enthusiastic and ready to live their life in the most beautiful manner. The wedding will be big and there will be many people at it. Usually, the wedding is dramatic and contains a lot of people that you may not know very well. But you are usually with the person from your childhood.

🌙Virgo in 9th house- you tend to criticize a lot or always have something that could be better than it is. You are smart and focused, meaning that you can find solutions to problems easier than others. You are pragmatic when it comes to matters of philosophy and religion. You have your own principle about what you believe in and you stick to it. A wedding can often be practical and contain many details. At the same time, you can be a person who can analyze everything before getting married. Marriage is usually aimed at wanting it to be perfect and practical. Animals may also be present at the wedding.

💘Libra in 9th house-you can travel a lot with your partner and explore a lot with him. Relationships help you grow and become your own person. You believe in the beauty of the world and everywhere you go you find something that is really beautiful to you. You can dream a lot about places and want to experience as much as possible. You can fall in love with places and corners of the world. You see life as something worth living for. And you want to experience love through travel and exploration. You can do all activities with a partner or someone you have an emotional bond with. You can meet the love of your life while traveling. Or you have someone who is from another country. Even your wedding can be in a foreign country. Your marriage can be very beautiful and pleasant. You can travel a lot with this person and have fun and learn a lot from your partner as well. Can also be a dream wedding.

🩵Scorpio in 9th house- you deeply believe in things that are important to you. You have an intense view of the world and events. You like to travel to places that are mystical, mysterious and by the water. You like trips that bring you some inner healing. You experience a lot of transformation when you travel, and that's how you grow the most. Your wedding can be somewhere out in the open or even secret (so no one will even know you got married). Many things that will happen between you and your partner will remain hidden from others. Everything just between you two. You value privacy.

⭐️Sagittarius in 9th house- you live life to the fullest and with optimism. You live like every day is your last. You have a lot of passion for travel and this is where you find yourself the most. You can deal a lot with spirituality and things related to it. You can teach others a lot. And you can tell a lot about your travels. But you can have a strict opinion about what you think and about your view of the world. You accept all people and cope well with unknown things. You can gain a lot from your partner. U two can also travel a lot. Your wedding will most likely be in another country. Your marriage will be active, interesting, optimistic, fun and full of travel.

🎸Capricorn in 9th house-this has a significant impact on a person's views, academic pursuits, journey, and devotion. Capricorn signifies ambition, discipline, and realism. You may travel a lot on business or your job is active. You like to help others and look out for society. Usually these people do not have specific beliefs or have a hard time believing in anything. It may be more difficult to find trust and faith in something, but when they find it, they feel a sense of responsibility towards this. The marriage with the partner is more likely to be busy or perhaps even more distant. Or both have a more public role. Even your marriage can be publicly exposed.

🪴Aquarius in 9th house-you will probably resist anything that will be publicly exposed. You will never believe in the church or have any special contact with it (unless you have some aspects of the planet that are different). You will not be everything that others believe. You will have your faith. You will be too lazy to learn new things. You will travel to places that others will not, or to places that are a little different. You may want to travel to the same place many times. You can have a lot of friends from other countries and also a lot of people you can meet while traveling. Your wedding can be unusual and different from the others. Your marriage can be unpredictable and different. Maybe you can have many unexpected things with your partner. It can always be in flux.

🐚Pisces in 9th house-you have faith, which can also be infinite. You never stop believing because you have a lot of illusion inside you. And there is definitely a mission you should follow in this lifetime. These natives can’t be kept to only one place. Pisces are known for creating magic around them, but also for poisoning their environment when it comes to the aspects of life they haven’t explored. You always have to follow your passion & things that are good for you soul. You are very nice to everyone. And you believe that the world is full of magic, dreams and goodness. You deeply believe in soul connection of people,soulmates and everything that requires somehow higher meaning to this life. Places by the ocean are good for your soul and you actually love to be near Ocean. Your wedding can be dreamy, by the water or somewhere like a magical world. A marriage with a partner is spiritual and more deeply connected. But you have to make sure that the person doesn't cover things up or lie to you.

✨Ig-bekylibra✨

-Rebekah☁️🌊💍

[justmatches]

Let Me Be Your Own

Charles Xavier (Professor X) / fem! reader

Chapter 1

Word Count: 1490

First Meetings, Slow Burn, SLOW slow burn, set in mid-First Class

Note: Reader's mutation gives her the ability to manipulate/communicate with plants. Her powers are there but not very developed whatsoever, that's what Charles is going to help with :). This is him finding her after using Cerebro.

The world was quiet where she sat, her serene little nook in the park giving her a breath of fresh air for the first time that day. Work had been stressful – her boss angry and her coworkers impudent – leaving her mind buzzing and strained.

The grass beneath her was thick, a carpet on the damp Earth where she resided. She found peace in the seclusion of nature, listening to the warm thrum of the plants around her. One thing she learned since she developed her mutation was that even though there were significantly more plants than people, they were much quieter, speaking only when spoken to or when they felt something strange, something new.

Speaking of which, her thought process was interrupted by a whisper from behind her, somewhere on the ground. Someone’s coming. 

The soft sound of dress shoes clicked across the path that wound through the park, the sound turning into a light shuffle as it turned toward her, nearing closer. “Is this seat taken?” A warm voice spoke over her shoulder, compelling her to open her eyes. She turned slightly, glancing at the man behind her.

It was a generally younger man, his hair short on the sides and swept up top, a warm smile on his face, and faded blue eyes bringing forth an almost boyish quality to his features. He was put together, and dare she even say charming.

“Not yet it’s not.” She smiled, trying to hide her confusion at his sudden appearance. She watched silently as his smile widened and he came forward, sitting down in the grass beside her. She felt the grass rustle around him, the blades as curious as she was. 

As he finished settling in the grass he looked out across the park, a warm expression crossing his face at the swaths of green painting the precious little patch of the city.

“Beautiful day out, isn’t it?”

He mused, eyes flicking to read her expression, noting the curiosity of her gaze before flicking back, fixing on something in the distance.

She could feel the flora around her thrumming with a strange energy, enamored by his presence. There’s something special about him. The world seemed to hum, one of the lower-hanging branches, rustling with interest. That thought sparked her thoughts, the feeling registering that he was like her, a mutant. But a simple mutation wouldn’t send the world around them into such a state, it was almost as if his energy was reaching into that of everything around them. Strange.

“Who are you?” She asked, a little more bluntly than anticipated. Somewhere in her mind, she felt bad about being so straightforward, but her curiosity was killing her. Her eyes were trained on his, studying his features, his reactions, trying to pick up anything she could.

He chuckled, his head turning to her in reaction to her blatancy, an unbothered look on his face. “Charles Xavier,” He smiled, a nearly smug expression on his face. “You know, I’ve actually been looking for you.”

“What?” She choked, not expecting that whatsoever. What could he possibly want with her? She knew he was a mutant, but did he know she was, too? How could he know?

“I know what you are, though I haven’t quite figured out what you can do.” He stated, the words somehow answering the questions flashing through her mind.

“How did you know?” She asked, her voice low with caution.

“I have some tricks, too.” His voice echoed in her mind, her eyes squinting and then widening as she realized he never opened his mouth. He was inside her head.

“How did you-?” She stumbled, blinking away her shock. She felt an odd mix of emotions inside of her – shock, fear, comfort – all swirling in her stomach. Was she going to puke? She might puke. She had seen other mutants before but she had never talked to them, too scared to interact, and the premise that one (much less one that was literally inside of her head) was speaking with her was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.

He chuckled, the light sound coming out in more of a breath than a laugh.

“Telepathy, darling. I can see every little thought flying through your mind, you know.” He teased, voice dancing on the air between them. She briefly thought that the sound was borderline musical.

She breathed out, a slight sound of amusement at the mix of the pet name and how obvious it was that he spoke to her through telepathy. She internally chided herself for the near idiocy of her last question, though she quickly blamed it on the shock of his voice inside of her skull.

“Then you already know what I can do, can’t you?” She asked, quirking her brow. He smiled, though lightly shook his head ‘no’.

“I’m afraid I don’t. You see, I do my best to avoid prying into people’s minds past the prominent, surface-level thoughts. I find it quite rude to snoop.” He explained, his voice serene but still laced with that joyous, youthful tone. She recognized it as hope, as though he looked confidently at every word that came from his mouth.

She nodded in acknowledgment, understanding his reasoning. “For what it’s worth, I appreciate you not picking my grey matter,” She joked, feeling the tension start to ease from her body. She was still a bit unsure of him, but he was kind, charming, seemingly honest, and the plants hadn’t yet had any objections to him. “Nevertheless, I assume you want to know what my mutation is, then?”

His lips quirked with amusement at her attempt at a joke. He could feel she was nervous, her emotions being one of the most prominent, unsilenceable thoughts she had, but nodded, affirming her question.

“I showed you mine, I think it’s only fair you show me yours.” He teased, returning her lighthearted, joking manner.

She bit back a chuckle and nodded, placing her hand in the grass between them. “It’s nothing much…” She muttered as she focused on the green blades around her fingers, the energy of their livelihood thrumming through her veins before channeling it into the ground a few feet in front of them. She listened to their voices, using the energy to spark the growth of a plant, stems and vines suddenly spilling out of the ground, sprouting up a foot or two before blooming into a delicate flower, the petals bright with energy and life. She heard him laugh beside her, a joyous, excited sound.

“Stupendous!” He uttered, amazement clear in his voice and eyes as he took a knee, leaning forward to examine the new plant closer. His hand twitched at his side and he reached out, about to touch the petals before looking over his shoulder, exhilaration electric in his eyes. “May I?” 

She nodded, a bright smile on her face as he watched him carefully take a petal between his fingers, thumb ghosting along the top of the smooth petal. He muttered something to himself, too quiet for her to catch before he turned back to her, his attention devoted to her. 

“I suppose I haven’t yet told you why I came looking for you.” He chuckled, wonder still lacing his tone.

She shook her head, a small laugh bubbling from her throat, surprised that she hadn’t yet to ask of his intention throughout their meeting. “And I suppose I never asked. Care to tell?” She smiled, eyes meeting his, his excited energy still prominent in the air.

“I’m creating a school for mutants – a safe space for anyone interested. So many of us have lived our lives in fear, in hiding; I want to help those who are willing to come with me. To learn how to control and embrace their powers, to use them for good. To build a better future,” He explained, serious and passionate at the same time. “And I want you to come with me.”

She felt a lump in her throat at the idea of leaving everything she knew behind. But in hindsight, would it be worth it? She didn’t have much to leave behind – no family, not much of a social life, and a pretty awful job. In her few seconds of indecision, she realized that what he was offering would be much better than her current life. She would be surrounded by people who understood her, who were like her, and she would have friends and a stable home. She could have everything a reasonable person wanted.

“Okay,” She breathed, her smile growing as the hopes of his better future embraced her thoughts, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the man in front of her. Though they were strangers she felt comforted by him, she knew she could trust him as he stood up, offering his hand. His smile was warm and exhilarating, giving her a hope she had never known before.

A/N: I just want to say this is my first time properly writing and publishing a chapter of a fic, so feedback is very welcome and appreciated!! My requests are open if there's anything you're itching for, and if you want more of this story, let me know :)

[bobluvbot]

someone you loved

pairing: sirius black x f!reader  summary: your relationship with sirius hurt so much, that the only way forward was to forget. wc: 3k a/n: angst angst angst!!! lots of negative self talk and low self esteem, allusions to a bad childhood (not stated directly), implied emotional abuse & cheating, both sirius and reader are going through it.

snippets of his voice echo in your head like a haunting lullaby that doesn’t seem to end. its funny how the mind is known to block out the traumatic memories, but for some reason, yours kept record of the most painful ones that left his lips.

you’re just too much. 

i can’t love you the way you expect me to.

i’m ending this.

i’m sorry, but i can’t deal with this, with you, anymore.

it keeps repeating like a song once loved, now loathed left on repeat, and a stop button might be somewhere but you can’t bring yourself to turn it off. it reminds you of that habit you secretly developed when you had two large bruises on both your knees after a nasty fall, bone hitting pavement. nothing bled, which was a relief to the new babysitter as no bright band-aids would be blatant proof of her lack of attention on the kid she was supposed to keep watch on. blood kept within the skin, nothing left to do but to watch your body slowly take it back. you were curious of how the color changes each day, the angry reds bleeding into dark purples that resemble galaxies that you’d see on your astronomy books. one day spent examining your bruises again, you pressed on the reddish purple one too hard and tears spring up your eyes when the sting hits. but as it lingered and faded, a strange feeling of satisfaction replaced it, and you felt the urge to press on it again, curious to see if the same unknown feeling makes an appearance again. It does, and the fascination as you play in between the lines of pain and pleasure follows you as you grew up. Curious, you once read up on it from those muggle books, where you learn that the body itself releases pain-killing hormones that help relieve the perception of pain, leading to a temporary feeling of relief. 

you knew thinking about sirius’ words will never not hurt, will continue to bury you in a deepening hole that you have to fight to the nails to crawl out of, but you couldn’t stop. 

It gave deep seated satisfaction to that green monster in the back of your mind, responsible for only seeing the negative in each situation you find yourself in. ‘i told you so,’ it says in a tinny singsong voice, clearly pleased with each iteration of sirius’ words and the raw metal stabbing your heart each time.  

it also serves like a constant reminder of your failure. Failure to love like a decent person, failure to be the person that sirius needed, failure to gauge what was too much that the other person drowned without you knowing, failure to protect yourself and your dignity from being trampled on like nothing, and failure to just simply accept the fact that love just wasn’t made for people like you. 

being friends with lily made you forget a lot of things, fundamental parts that you realized so young. you knew better, should have after everything you’ve gone through, but somehow with her, anything seemed possible, achievable, tangible when you’re a kind person. marlene would always say, doing good things meant you can expect to receive good things back from the universe.

and for the most part it seemed to always work that way. you’d witnessed james nurture the simple appreciation he had on lily’s genuine smile at him that eased his nerves while they were in line to get sorted into houses throughout the years, growing as he’d gotten to know her innate kindness and wit, and finally erupting from him like rays of sunlight until he became brave enough to speak it out loud starting fourth year. 

Even though the marauders had acted questionably during their early years of exploring their pranking abilities, james had always been full of love. Never hesitating to share it to those he truly cared for. it took lily years to accept this, and more to gain courage and let herself experience it. 

by 7th year, you never believed a love could thrive like that whilst cradled with such young hands until you saw james and lily do it effortlessly. 

so what part of this could’ve made you think otherwise? 

were you to blame for believing in that fantasy, that something like this could be attainable for someone like you, too? 

you had always housed deep adoration and awe for sirius black, like many others, despite his wild reputation and scandalous rumors that seem to always follow when his name gets uttered.

why? Because he was once the raven haired boy who slipped the trolley witch a few sickles when he saw you return the pumpkin pasty after realizing you couldn’t afford it. 

it had been a gloomy tuesday. the trolley witch was supposed to go compartment by compartment, but the bumbling first years seemed to miss that memo and started piling up close to the cart to see what was being sold that she had to force them all in a line. you were quiet and unobtrusive as you stood patiently in line; which was nothing compared the boys’ raucous laughters and animated chatter behind you. sirius would’ve accidentally pushed or stepped on you if he didn’t see your figure. the train was loud and so was james’ mouth, so excited to be away from his parents and to have his first official Hogwarts friend, but sirius also stood close enough to you that he could hear your stomach grumbling and see your arms crossed over your midsection. he admitted once that he found the gurgling sounds funny (like an eleven year old would do) but he didn’t have the heart to poke fun at you because he remembered he’d hear the same thing from his own when his parents would send him to bed without eating. 

even before your turn, you were already overwhelmed at the amount of food and candy available, none of which sounds or looks remotely familiar to what you’ve had growing up. your heartbeat picked up when you heard loud sighs, feet tapping impatiently (both James) snorting and shushing (sirius), and just grabbed something that resembled bread, quickly apologizing to the witch that gave you a kind smile. you hadn’t eaten anything as you rushed to pack the mismatched, secondhand supplies that the headmaster had sent you, and you were dropped off to the station just in time before the train left. your fingers trembled in excitement to finally eat and in hunger as you fished out your coin purse. It took a few seconds before it sunk in that you don’t have enough to buy your pasty. How embarassing. 

You swallowed your tears back, willing the hateful voice in your head to keep quiet for a minute or two, just enough time to put back the pasty and run to your deserted compartment, where you could freely go to town beating yourself up for your stupidity. Just quick enough so no one will notice. 

It took three deep breaths before the dam opened, for the tears to run uncontrollably down your cheeks. You couldn’t even wipe it off because your hands were still clutching your stomach, trying to ease the growling, gnawing pain. Pathetic.

The compartment door opened and you didn’t even hear someone clearing their throat, only looking up when a hand dropped three pasties, a chocolate frog, and a bottle of pumpkin juice on your lap. Barely balancing it, you looked up to see who took pity on you, but only caught a glimpse of stark raven hair and alabaster skin.

you’d find him later during sorting, squeezed between three boys that couldn’t seem to shut up about what house they thought the other would go. not used to kindness, much less from a complete stranger, you hesitated approaching him. but fate always had a weird way of showing you it does listen to your wishes once in a while and you found yourself later on, scooting a bit to your left to make space for him on the bench of your shared house. you both exchanged a knowing smile, and you’d always remember him like that. The kind boy who gave you a feast even without knowing who you were. 

you’d remember that boy when the pouring rain had finally soaked through your thick coat as you waited patiently for him at madam puddifoot’s on your first Valentine’s day. Despite the fact that he was already two hours late and the cafe would be closing soon, you chose to wait. 

you’d remember that kind boy when some mean ravenclaw girls in class would pick on you for the most absurd things, embarrassment coursing through your veins as you looked back at him desperately for some reprieve, only for him to avoid your gaze and continue to guffaw at something James said, effectively ignoring your existence. 

You once asked him why. It was embarrassing how quick he figured out what you were really asking. In fact, he knew a lot of things: that he didn’t deserve your love (or anyone’s for that matter), that someone as pure and selfless as you shouldn’t even associate with the likes of him, and that he was aware of every single thing he does that shatters you whole. He knew that he should tread this conversation gently, to not let his claws rip further skin more than he already has, but the Black darkness has its way of slithering out of the deep recesses he tries to bury it in. 

Words leave him exasperatedly, like he’s not spouting words that cut through skin. “I’d been clear to you right from the start, of what I can give you and what I can’t. You knew what you were getting into, Y/N. you put this onto yourself.” 

He storms back into his dorm before he could hear your quiet sobs echo through the empty common room. 

—-

lily knew in the back of her mind that this wasn’t just a simple, silly request now, but more of an obligation to her closest friend. 

it’s been three weeks. three excruciating weeks to be handed and given and filled with so much love she didn’t need to ask for, whilst seeing her best friend chip away with the lack of, like a once-bright porcelain doll that was abandoned and exposed to the direct heat of the sun. 

you had finally gone silent by last week, like a shut door. refusing to eat, go to class, speak—- hell, lily bets, if you could also not breathe by choice, you wouldn’t. It’s like youre keeping everything you once had given to the world thoughtlessly, close. Dorcas thinks you were keeping close to heart the mundane things that make you alive, to remind yourself that you still are. She had said, like air to a balloon. lily cried herself to sleep that night, the thought of losing such a fundamental part of her life, you, inch by inch, day by day, in front of her very eyes was a haunting, damning thought. Something that she and you both thought would come so much more years later, with unsurmountable memories, many glasses of champagne and slices of cake, wrinkles and smile lines, more laughter and loving hugs exchanged. 

she had thought the silence was a welcoming sign of change. A necessary step towards acceptance and moving on. she was relieved when your crying stopped, tremors leaving your fingers, and there was a chance again for the redness to vacate the whites of your eyes. She held hope that she and the girls can start working on instilling your light back, hopeful that a few months from now their star can find its way back to its rightful place in the sky and everything could be okay once again. 

Lily looked forward to nights that were filled by snores and shuffling of sheets, not the unmistakable sound of your feet on the wooden floors, misjudging that everyone was asleep, the muffled creak of the dorm room door opening and closing, and your footsteps fading in the dark. She’d wait fifteen to thirty minutes (the longest was an hour or two on the first night) before she’d hear you return, footsteps still light but she could hear the slight drag in each step, almost as if it was taking so much of your might to even make it to the bed. the quiet whimpers would start, followed by muffled hiccups lily knew only happens when you cry too hard. it took so much of her to exercise self-restraint, to keep herself on her own bed and not lay beside you and hug you as if it’s something that could put you back together. 

She has to turn her back on you even if it felt like raw betrayal. 

Because that one time she didn’t, she couldn’t forget the look of horror, dejection, desperation, and pure unbridled embarrassment on your face when you realized she knew what you were up to late at night. She knew you came up to the boys’ dormitory, crawling into sirius’ bed, where you begged and begged for him to take you back, that you’ll be a better more doting and loving girlfriend this time around, that you won’t be too attached this time and will give him the necessary space and time he needs so he doesn’t feel suffocated, that you’ll be anything, do anything just for him to welcome you back into his arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear until your throat was raw, and sirius has to physically take you back to the start of the staircase to your dormitory. 

this happened for days and days on end until the boys had to lock their door at night, or whenever sirius is in. 

james couldn’t meet lily’s eyes when he’d ask for her help to keep you apart from Sirius as it would do you no good. they had gotten into a fight because of this, because lily heard nothing but  ‘stop her from making a fool of herself’ and her best friend is the smartest intuitive empathetic kindest witch she had ever met; the farthest thing from a fool. 

But one day those very words came off your lips with a hollow laugh. “But I am a fool, Lily. No one in their right mind would even do half the things I do.” It would be hypocritical for lily to deny sneaking out at night and crawling into your ex’s bed and begging for him to take you back as something of a desperate fool would do. A girl once had chased and pined for Remus during the entirety of fifth year and the things she did to get his attention were laughable at that time. But she didn’t plan to see the same, even worse, done by her best friend, and she still couldn’t wouldn’t call you a fool.

After all, your only fault was that you loved. And that shouldn’t even be a fault because that’s what she did with James, marlene with dorcas, her father with her mother. even someone as selfish as petunia could find love and be loved right back. 

you of all people deserved to love and be loved right back after everything you’d been through, and james would say the same thing for sirius as well. 

but sirius was a complex person, lily could recite this on top of her head from endless times where you stood your ground, defending sirius’ honor like he’d see your great martyrdom and suddenly consider you once again worthy of his love and affection. Before, she knew of sirius as a friend and James’ brother— but she knew more than what she signed up for because you’d fill in the gaps for her when she’d try to beat some sense into you during the unacceptable treatment you’d accept from sirius. 

You’d say with such confidence “he loves me, he’s just going through a lot right now, especially after that howler his mother sent him a few days ago.”

You didn’t have to elaborate, lily remembered that day vividly, not because of the way sirius’ face fell when the howler began its assault had reminded her so much of how she’d react after getting bitter letters from petunia, but because that same day she saw sirius being manhandled by a hufflepuff, both kiss sick and all over each other, into a secluded broom closet. 

It was years worth of push or pulls, of moral dilemmas that would get the outspoken redhead to choke on her words, and dejectedly sweep them under the rug out of your sight. Because the beaming smile and flushed cheeks you’d sport when Sirius murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, the weight on your shoulders dissipating when tucked in his arms, the jump in your step whenever he’d kiss you on the forehead and wish you good luck for the day— Lily couldn’t bear the thought of robbing you with those moments of bliss, even when it’s all done in private. 

So in an empty classroom on a gloomy Tuesday afternoon, she points her wand at you, fingers trembling and tears trailing down her cheeks, but you don’t see any of these. Instead, your beautiful features wear a serene expression that weakens lily’s knees. Oh how she missed her dearest friend. She’d do anything in the world to get you back, hold your hand, and dance with you in the autumn rain. 

So she does the wand movement like she practiced for days and takes a breath. She pictures you and Sirius happily dancing barefoot during the yule ball, your blushed cheeks when you told her about the feel of his lips on yours for the first time, you on sirius’ shoulders as you carried the quidditch cup, both smiling big as remus snaps a picture from the muggle camera, you drifting off to sleep on sirius’ shoulder while your hands were laced as you rode the train back to hogwarts.

Before mumbling the incantation, obliviate.

[kittenintheden]

Where were you, when I was new?

AO3 Version Here bonus gift art by tavplum!!

Even the masters have to start somewhere.

Rating: E Word Count: 5.6k Content: 18+, Virgin Astarion, Pre-Canon Astarion, Law Student Astarion, Young Astarion, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Intercourse, Gender-Neutral Partner (3rd Person), Unnamed Partner (3rd Person)

Astarion Ancunín is twenty years old, a law student, and a virgin. At least, he is for the time being.

It’s not as if he doesn’t know he’s an exceptionally good-looking young man, not as if no one’s ever asked before. Not as if he’s completely inexperienced. He adores kissing. Flushes with pleasure when someone plays with his long, elegant ears. Participates in a little hand stuff here and there. He even received head and gave it back, once, at some party.

Really, it’s simply that he’s had other things to do – other lessons to learn, other books to study, other concerns about his future position – and no one ever seemed worth sharing himself with fully. At least, not the first time. What can he say? He has standards.

It’s neither here nor there, to be honest, because he’s deep in his notes from a recent lecture when a friend puts a hand on his shoulder and draws his attention away. He grumbles, annoyed at being yanked out of his zone.

“What, arthehole?” he says from between his teeth because he doesn’t want to drop the pair of gold-rimmed glasses that dangle from his mouth by one temple. He never did quite outgrow his oral fixation.

His friend tilts their chin toward the large double doors that offer entry to their university’s library, which is where they’re currently holed up. “Look sharp,” the friend says. “The mock trial team from Neverwinter just walked in.”

Astarion sits up and shifts his gaze to the group of unfamiliar students following behind an enthusiastic prefect who seems to be giving them the full tour of the Grand College of Baldur's Gate. They certainly look like standard Neverwinter fare – wizard-chic robes, scrutinizing stares, Northern city attitude. He leans his cheek on his hand, lazily sizing up the competition.

There’s one that stands out and he quirks his mouth up as he observes. This student is smiling brightly, slowly spinning in place to take in the shelves around them with wonder. Their clothing is simpler than the others, more street-friendly than cosmopolitan.

“Huh,” he says to himself.

“I think we can take them no problem,” his friend says. “But what do you say about running a bit of an insurance policy? Some friendly distraction, if you will.”

Astarion glances their way. “I’m listening.”

The friend points to someone toward the front of the line. “I’ll take that one. You know I’m a sucker for tieflings with blue… everything.”

He laughs. “Have at. I think…” He folds his glasses and slips them into his pocket, training his eyes on the student who stuck out to him before. “... I’ll deal with that one.”

“Good man,” says the friend, holding up a hand for him to clasp.

***

Some time later, Astarion leans casually against a support beam in the university’s canteen with his supper in hand, waiting. It isn’t long until the Neverwinter students begin to filter in and he quickly spies his target.

They’re taking in the room and the people around them, eyes soft and gentle as a cow’s. Elven, like him, he thinks. They look over their shoulder and happen to catch his eye for a scant moment. He tilts his head and they give a polite smile before stepping forward in the queue.

Astarion examines his nails closely during the several minutes it takes the group to retrieve their food and find seats. As the elf walks along the line of chairs, he makes his move.

Before they even notice his approach, he steps just in front of them and then startles as they knock into him.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” they say, mercifully righting their tray before anything spills. “I didn’t see you.”

“No, no,” Astarion says, smiling bashfully. “My fault entirely. I didn’t look to see where I was going. I’m terrible that way. Please, join me?”

He pulls out the nearest chair and gestures for them to sit. They blink at him, wide-eyed, then lean around to look for their friends, then back at him in slight confusion.

“Ah, sorry, that’s presumptuous, I shouldn’t-”

“No, it’s fine,” they say, their face brightening with another grin. “We’re supposed to be here to meet other students, anyway, so. Yeah. Yes, I’d be happy to join you.”

“Wonderful,” Astarion says, pushing the chair in under them as they take his offered seat. Behind their back, he casts a look over at his friend across the way. They waggle their eyebrows at him and go back to chatting up their blue tiefling. Astarion smirks.

He schools his features back to neutral as he takes his own seat, giving the Neverwinter student a tight smile, playing the part of the nervy introvert superbly. Right on cue, his glasses slip down his nose a bit and he adjusts them back into place.

“Do you actually need those?” his guest says, their cheek already full of food.

Astarion’s smile drops for a second before he snatches it back and gives a laugh. “What?”

They chew and swallow their bite before pointing at his face. “The spectacles. I was just wondering if they were for show or…” They pause and their eyes go even wider than usual. “I apologize, that’s really rude of me, forget I said anything.”

His surprised laugh is genuine this time. “You know what? I don’t actually need them.” To illustrate his point, he removes them, folds them, and puts them in his jacket pocket. He leans in like he’s about to tell them a secret and quietly says, “Honestly, I just think they make me look smart.”

Immediately, they burst out laughing and he joins them. The conversation flows smoothly, after that.

“What are you doing all the way down at the Gate?” Astarion asks, placing a forkful of his own food in his mouth to chew as they answer. He now knows their name, their year, that they adore snow foxes, and that they are indeed visiting from Neverwinter.

They pick off a piece of their roll, then another. “I’m here with the mock trial group. You know that one? We playact cases like you’d find in the courts. We’re here for a competition with the Gate’s team.”

“Really?” Astarion says, the picture of innocence as he leans in closer, fascinated. “Like theater? I didn’t even know we had one of those.”

“Oh, yes, it’s a lot of fun.” They’re animatedly waving their forgotten roll around as they speak. It’s cute. “We each take the side of either the prosecution or the defense and we sort of, you know, duke it out.”

Astarion giggles. “Maybe I should come watch this thing. Which side are you on?”

“Defense,” they say with a wink. “And we’ve got a killer case.”

“Is that so?” Astarion’s grin spreads wide over his face. “I’d love to hear more.”

***

It had been quite the productive evening. His companion spilled the details of nearly everything that mattered, from their witness list to the evidence they hoped to sneak in last-minute with a legal loophole. Astarion flirted up a storm, keeping them talking. And talk they did, punctuated with laughter and light touches and a general aura of friendship .

Astarion grimaces as he organizes his notes for the trial. It should begin in an hour and he’s been hiding out in the nearby lecture hall that serves as the makeshift judge’s chambers. If he’s really, truly honest with himself… he feels awful. His opponent had been sweet, friendly, and genuinely enjoyable to be around, if a little… south of brilliant. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize he actually kind of liked them. Would maybe consider flirting with them for real, even.

If only they hadn’t been so naively trusting . That was their own fault, wasn’t it?

He swallows the sour taste in his mouth.

Around then, his friend swaggers into the room with a blooming bruise on their neck and a sleepy smile. They flop down in the seat beside him.

“Good night?” Astarion asks, cocking an eyebrow at them.

“Blue everywhere,” they say as if they’re doped up. “Everywhere, Ancunín.”

Astarion chuckles and shakes his head. “But did you learn anything useful?”

His friend doesn’t answer and Astarion clears his throat to prompt them. They focus back in on him and say, “Erm, we were supposed to be learning something? I proposed running distraction.”

“Oh for the gods’ sake.” Astarion rolls his eyes. “No matter. I got all the details from my date, anyway.” He taps his notes against the desk to straighten them and slips them into his satchel.

“You mean their team captain?” his friend says.

Astarion freezes with his hand on the latch of his satchel. Turns his head slowly to gawk at his teammate. “Their. What?”

The friend shrugs. “Guess I did learn one thing, after all. My companion said you were sitting with their team captain. Thought it was a pretty bold choice.” They wink at him. “Good for you.”

“Shit,” Astarion whispers.

His friend frowns, but before they can ask, he’s up and pulling open the door that leads to their mock chambers. The Neverwinter team is already well underway on their setup. He storms down the center aisle and sure enough, there’s his dining companion, looking polished to a fine shine with their hair properly styled and robes of deep blue setting off their elven complexion.

They turn just in time to catch him glaring at them with his jaw clenched.

“Glad you could make it,” they say with a much slyer smile than they wore last night.

Astarion has never been so simultaneously angry and infuriatingly attracted to someone in his life.

***

The first trial of their three-day competition is, naturally, a complete bust for Team Baldur’s Gate. Astarion is completely off his game and operating off of a strategy that proves totally useless. The Neverwinter team absolutely trounces them.

He got played. He got played and he’s furious about it.

Worse, he’s impressed by it. Gross.

Afterward, they come up to him to offer a genuine, friendly handshake. Astarion reluctantly accepts it.

“I’d apologize,” they say. “But honestly, I let you take the lead completely. You didn’t have to listen to a single word out of my mouth.”

Astarion sniffs. “Yes, well. Congratulations. You won.” He leans into their space ever so slightly. “This time.”

They laugh and it sounds almost the same as it did the night before. “Come on, let me buy you a drink.”

“You don’t have to rub it- wait, what?” Astarion says.

They shrug. “Secret’s out now, I guess, so I don’t see any reason for us to pretend that we didn’t enjoy one another’s company.” When Astarion doesn’t immediately respond, they put a hand on their hip and smirk at him. “At least, I enjoyed yours.”

“Well, I…” Astarion huffs and looks askance, then back at them. “I don’t even know which parts of you are real , so. I can’t say.”

The elf reaches out a finger and taps him right on the center of his chest. “You’re the one who saw someone from one of the top universities in the realm and assumed I must be some foolish bumpkin who’ll spill their guts to the first pretty face that comes along because I smile too much. I’m the one who should be concerned, I think.”

“Ugh, okay, fair,” he says, tossing his head. Then he smirks back. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Come on,” they say with a laugh and a tilt of their head toward the exit. “Let’s get that drink.”

***

Hours later, Astarion stands in front of the tiny vanity in his dorm, turning his face to examine his reflection. His cheeks are flushed from a second and then a third drink, his curls looking a bit flat at the end of the day. He pulls back his lips to examine his teeth, making sure the wine didn’t stain them. Fine. He looks fine.

He huffs at his reflection. Normally, his confidence in his appearance is, one might say, inflated . Tonight, he’s feeling unusually self-conscious about it. He pokes at the moles under his eye and grimaces.

It had been a marvelous time. True to their word, his fellow captain had bought him the first cup of cheap wine. He’d pitched in for their second round, and they’d each decided on a third. After agreeing that tonight would involve absolutely no discussion of the next day’s case, they simply let the conversation take them where it would, and took them it did. 

It was… easy. Instinctive. He told them all about leaving his terribly boring hometown behind for the call of Baldur’s Gate, determined to polish himself to a high shine and enjoy everything the city life had to offer. They told him that Neverwinter was a beautiful, sparkling metropolis, but woefully lacking in people who weren’t head-and-shoulders up their own arse.

Astarion fidgets with the wooden comb and brush laid out on his vanity, smiling. Wine loosened their tongues a bit more and they’d given into the compulsion to openly flirt with one another, and it had been… good. Very good. It’s been some time since he’s felt genuinely interested in spending an evening with someone this way. If anything, he thanks his dates for the delightful makeout session and goes on his merry way.

He runs his fingers along his bottom lip, remembering being partway into that third cup and snatched up with the overwhelming desire to kiss them. The air around them felt heated and heady, their laughs going lower in pitch as the night wore on, their eyes half-lidded when they looked at him.

He’d wanted to. He’d wanted to so badly. More than he could ever remember wanting to kiss anyone. And he’d let his nerves get the better of him.

They’d bid their goodnights, he’d come back here, and now he was flopping down onto his too-hard single bed with a huff, covering his face with his hands. He sighs and drags them over his skin, looking at his wall covered in parchment, his reminders and notes to himself everywhere, a few tickets to events he wanted to remember pinned here and there.

He reaches out and taps the flyer advertising the mock trial competition, feeling a slow grin spread over his face. They’d bested him today, but tomorrow… tomorrow’s another story.

***

The look on their face when Astarion delivers his final arguments to the judges is delicious. He’s back in the game, fully and completely, using every bit of performative flair to make sure all eyes stay on him. When he wraps it up, he pays them a smug glance and they’re looking at him with lips slightly parted.

Better yet, they’re blushing .

He positively beams.

Baldur’s Gate comes out victorious, leaving the teams one-and-one. Tomorrow will decide the competition.

Tonight, they all go out together to play.

The Neverwinter team is desperately competitive and worth every bit of the name they’ve made for themselves on the university circuit, but they also love to party. The two groups find a rager of a soiree happening at the winter house of one of the Upper City students. There’s dancing, and drinking, and no small number of heated exchanges.

Astarion doesn’t waste the opportunity to rub elbows with anyone notable – he has long-term goals, after all – but most of his attention is devoted to spending as much time as possible with his new Neverwinter friend.

They share a dance or two on the trellised patio, purple and white wisteria hanging down all around them and perfuming the air. Nothing salacious… at least, not at first. That second dance ends up a bit close, with their hand on his chest and his just the tiniest bit too low on their hip for propriety.

In the twilight, they look into his face, their own expression open and affectionate, and it hits Astarion again – that overwhelming desire to kiss them. His heartbeat quickens, fluttering his pulse up along the side of his neck, and his breath catches. Heat swirls through him from the place their hand sits on his chest.

This is ridiculous. He’s never had a problem kissing anyone else before.

He’s never wanted to kiss anyone like this before, though. This thing between them… it’s chemical. Magical.

The music drifts away and they drift apart.

He does not kiss them.

***

Day three of the competition dawns and it’s the fiercest one yet. Every member of each team is out to win and they bring their very best to the table. The professors and other staff acting as the competition's judges watch the back and forth with raised eyebrows, thoroughly impressed by their students’ passion.

And no passion is so intense as the passion between the two team captains, who pace around one another like a pair of territorial wolves, seeking any weakness at all. They stand on either side of a long table, making their cases back and forth. Occasionally they address the judge, but clearly this is a battle between the two of them.

“The evidence is crystal clear,” the Neverwinter captain states, eyes narrowed. “This man is corrupt, feeding information to the highest bidder with complete disregard for any life ruined in the process. It is unconscionable, and the court must see justice through.”

Astarion slams his hands down on the table for effect and leans closer, eyes on them. “The evidence reveals he feared for his life, for the lives of his family. He performed these misdeeds under duress. The true culprit is not in this courtroom. And that…” He pauses for effect, letting the tension stretch. “... is why I move for a mistrial.”

There’s a bark of laughter behind him from his teammate and the room goes nearly to shambles under the sudden upswing in feverish whispering. Astarion grins.

Astarion stands his ground.

Astarion wins his requested mistrial .

In the end, the final judging declares Baldur’s Gate the winner of the day, but Neverwinter the overall mock trial champions – decided by a single point.

The entire mock chambers breathes a collective sigh of relief for the end of a battle well fought and new friends made. Astarion’s teammates are swarming him, slapping his back and praising his performance. He’s grinning ear to ear and looks up just in time to see the Neverwinter captain come barrelling through the crowd to catch him in a hug. He gasps and instinctively wraps his arms around them in return.

After a solid squeeze, they stand back and put their hands on his shoulders. They’re flushed with the fight, with the win. Their eyes shine a bit in the light.

“Well done,” they say, beaming. “You were incredible.”

Astarion gulps and manages to pull on a smile. “Congratulations on your win.”

“You’ll be at the party tonight?” they ask, looking between his eyes.

“Of course,” Astarion says. “I'll see you later.”

***

And he doesn’t miss it.

Astarion stands in the mock chambers again some time later, the air far less tense and much more celebratory. The teams and their judges and staff mingle amid the catered trays of sandwiches and pitchers of cheap wine. He looks around with two cups in hand, seeking out his new friend. Friend. Friend?

When he spots them, he simply can’t stop the smile pulling at his mouth. He wants so badly to be cool tonight and they make it so hard.

He takes a breath and approaches them. They turn from the person they’re currently chatting with and light up when they spot him. Their companion looks at Astarion and takes their leave with raised eyebrows, clearly aware that their conversation is now over.

Astarion clears his throat and offers a cup. They accept it.

“It’s really very bad,” Astarion says with a scoff. “But it’s something.” He takes a sip.

They continue to smile coyly at him as they bring their own cup to their mouth.

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Astarion says, looking into his cup so he doesn’t have to see their face.

There’s a pause, and then softly, they say, “Yes. Late morning. We’re hoping to make it back to Neverwinter before the snows start on the road.”

Astarion takes another drink of his wine and sets it down before he looks back at them. “That’s unfortunate,” he says with a soft, sad laugh. “Because I’ve rather liked the time we’ve spent together.” He pauses and swallows. “I’ve rather liked you .”

They tilt their head, wine held aloft in one hand, and let their smile widen.

When they don’t respond, Astarion says, “That is, you’re very clever to be around. Fun. Fun to be around? I like to be around you because you’re just…” He looks around desperately like he’s going to find help for this. “... incredible.”

They turn and set their cup down on a nearby bench.

Astarion rambles on, “I only thought maybe you might be, I don’t know, interested in letting me show you what else I’m capable of.” High-pitched laugh. “Outside the courtroom.” Clears his throat and blinks rapidly. “If you want.”

With a giggle, they grab him by the lapels and pull him in, pressing their mouth fully to his in a kiss that makes him immediately swoon, his legs going a touch weak as he leans against them for support. The chatter around them goes muffled in his mind as they both adjust for a better fit and he feels his ears flush pink to the very tips.

When the kiss breaks, Astarion can feel his heart beating in his throat, in his fingertips, in his lips, in his… oh, that’s going to be an issue very soon.

They catch his eye and say, “You want to get out of here?”

He’s never nodded his head “yes” so quickly in his life.

***

They don’t make it anywhere close to the dorms.

Now that the seal’s been broken, Astarion simply can’t keep his hands off of them. They escape into the hall together and run a few steps down the way when he crashes into them, wrapping his arms around them from behind until he gets them to turn so he can kiss them again, both hands on either side of their head as they stumble.

They run a ways, kiss a ways, run a ways, and so on until Astarion yanks them down a side hallway behind the library, looking from door to door. When he finds one he likes, he gives their hand a tug and they use the momentum to slam against him until his back hits the door. The pair of them laugh deliriously as they kiss again, tongues testing and discovering, but then they break from his mouth to kiss toward his ear.

The moment they suck on the lobe, his cock goes fully and painfully hard, hips bucking out as he whines into the air beside them.

“No, no, not there,” he says in a breathy whisper. “Not unless you want to call it a very early evening.”

They bury their face in the side of his neck, giggling, and he scrambles his hand around behind him until he finds the doorknob and they both go tumbling inside.

Astarion collapses onto the floor with his companion on top and doesn’t even think before he kicks the door shut with one foot and reaches up to bring their face back to his for another kiss. This time, he uses a thumb to stroke along the length of their own elven ear and then groan into his mouth, grinding down hard against him.

Oh gods, this is happening.

He wants this to happen.

On impulse, he reaches down their bodies until his hand's between his companion’s legs, gently cupping them there, and they sit upright, head thrown back in the very low magical lantern light of this filing room, and rock themselves against it. He does his best to give them the friction they’re seeking.

A minute or so later, they tilt their head forward and meet his eyes, their eyes stormy and lustful. They take his hands and pull them both back to standing, backing him up until he slams up against the side of the nearest filing shelf. Fingers fumble with the buttons of his doublet and he tries to help, getting them undone enough that they can reach their hands inside and scrape their nails over his ribs through his undershirt. Astarion’s chest arches forward, goosebumps prickling over his skin as he makes contented noises through their kiss.

Then they kiss down his neck, giving him a little nip near the collarbone that makes him squeak, which he attempts to cover with a purr. They keep going until they kneel on the floor and work at the lacings of his trousers. His tongue feels so heavy in his mouth, and he’s about to say that they don’t have to do-

But then their mouth is on his freed cock and he throws his head back, swooning into the overwhelming sensation of wet heat surrounding him. He’s done this before, and it was fine, but it wasn’t like this . Maybe it’s because he’s so attracted to them? Maybe it’s because they’re doing… that thing… with their tongue…

He whines and pulls in a deep breath, trying to keep his wits about him, because he highly suspects that one-sided head is not how they want the night to end. Before he reaches a dangerous place, he puts his hand on their head and gently slows them. They pull off of him and look up with a smile, their eyes the exact mix of mischief and sexiness that caught him in the first place.

No one’s ever made him feel like this. Not once.

This one, though. They’ve wound their way around the very core of him.

Astarion gulps and says, quiet and shy, “I haven’t done this before.”

Their eyes go a little wider. “Really?” they say, sincere. “You?”

He laughs. “I mean, I’ve done what we just did, but I haven’t… done what I think we’re about to do.”

They give his cock one more long lick that makes him sway a bit before they stand back up and kiss him. He melts into it. He likes them so very, very much. It hurts that they’re leaving, but this is right. He knows it is. These past few days and nights feeling them take root in him… they’ve all been leading to this.

“Well, then, I’m honored,” they say, and they sound like they mean it. “If we’re about to do what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, yes, please,” he says, kissing them again.

They each separate and disrobe, their clothing building a haphazard pile between them. Soon enough, they swipe the old files off the nearest table and his playmate faces it, bidding him closer with a smile over their shoulder, almost exactly the same as the first one they ever paid him in the canteen only a few nights ago.

Astarion takes his cock in his hand, still spit-slick, and puts his other hand on their hip. They lean over the tabletop, palms flat on the surface, and spread their legs for him. His breath stutters, his legs go weak beneath him. He can’t quite believe he’s here.

Beneath him, they shift their weight so they can put their hand over his. He’s shaking, just a little.

“We can stop if you want to,” they say, their words reedy with need but sincere beneath it.

“No,” Astarion says. Licks his lower lip. “I want to do this with you.”

They give a light laugh. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He nods, then realizes they can’t see him. “Okay. Okay.”

His fingers move from their hip to the middle of their back and he draws the pads of his fingers down over their spine. They shiver under the touch and Astarion swallows hard. His fingers trace all the way to where their arse begins to curve. He shudders in a breath and brings two fingers to his mouth to suck, then reaches between their legs to touch them there, apply pressure, rub small circles.

They arch and hum beneath his ministrations.

Astarion holds his breath and pushes his fingers inside them, losing his footing just a bit as he feels their heat, the pulse of them around his fingers. When he has his wits back, he moves his fingers in and out, pumping slow, listening to their breath beneath him for cues on what he might be doing right or wrong. He turns his fingers a bit, mapping their body, and they give a shuddering sigh.

Their insides grow warmer to the touch. Are they supposed to do that?

“More,” they huff. “You can do more now.”

“Right,” Astarion says, withdrawing his fingers and moving in closer, his arousal pulsing with anticipation. It feels like crossing into a new world, going somewhere that will well and truly mark him an adult. And he’s ready.

His cock rests at their entrance and with one more breath he guides himself inside with his hand. There’s a brief resistance, a pleasant pressure against the head of him, and then he’s half inside. His hips instinctively give a second thrust and then he’s fully sheathed.

He gasps and curls forward into their body just as they arch into his. Astarion’s arm wraps around their waist and he holds them tight.

“Okay?” they gasp again, their legs quivering.

“You feel…” he pants, pressing his forehead to the space between their shoulder blades. “Gods, you feel so good.”

They laugh and reach a hand behind them to tangle in the hair at the side of his head. “You too. You feel good, too.”

Astarion huffs out his breath and tries to place a sloppy kiss to their back, but it’s so hard when this feeling is coursing through him and his thoughts are going haywire because everything is different, now. He’s different, now.

He draws his hips back and rolls them forward again.

They sigh with it, signaling their approval.

So he does it again. And again. And again.

Together they build a rhythm. Every once in a while, they help Astarion angle himself this way or that, teaching him how to make a partner feel, make them shudder, make them moan. He finds a spot near the front of them that makes them squirm and he files that knowledge away. They take his hand and guide him round to their front and show him what to do, how they like to be touched.

He’s a fast learner. Always has been.

Astarion pants as he attempts to commit every second of this experience to memory: being buried deep inside, feeling the shudder and movement of his partner, the way they flush and bloom, the unbearably sexy sounds that float from their throat to his ears. Most of all, he wants to remember how this feels , how much he enjoys the person he’s sharing this with. His heart thuds in his chest, his ears flush with arousal and affection, and he is so happy to be exactly here, in this moment.

The pair of them grow slick with sweat against one another in the unventilated room, their cries stifled and sultry. The minds are willing, but the bodies are young and eager. The passion building between them swells, shivering, laser-focused on the place where they meet.

Their rhythm goes chaotic and Astarion only barely holds on long enough for his partner to fall over the edge before he goes tumbling after.

For a scant moment, the world goes paler than he’s ever seen it.

Then they’re both whimpering through the other side of their peak, movements gradually slowing to stillness.

After they’ve had an awkward disentanglement and a more awkward cleanup, they look into one another’s faces, and then they’re kissing again, touching again, losing themselves again. What youth lacks in experience, it makes up in vigor.

They do it once more, face to face this time. Slower, longer. Astarion learns what it’s like to soul kiss someone while making love to them. He likes it. Very much.

Some time later, Astarion leans against the table and stares down at his doublet while he does up the buttons. Beneath his lashes, he peeks up and sees them looking at him, their mouth titled up in a sweet smile. They’re already fully dressed.

“What?” Astarion says airily. His cheeks are warm and he’s positive he’s rosy pink with a blush.

“You are so pretty,” they say. “And funny, and clever. You’ve been lovely company.”

Astarion raises his eyebrows and looks askance, unable to stop grinning. “Yes, well. You’re delightful, as well, and you certainly gave me a night to remember. Thanks, for that.”

It goes unspoken between them, the knowledge that this is the last and only night. They’re young, they’re dedicated to their studies. There won’t be time for lovesick letters and pining, nice as it might be. No. Best that they keep this memory contained in crystal, sparkling.

His opponent, his friend, his lover walks closer and puts a finger under his chin and Astarion allows them to tilt his face so he’s looking at them. Then they lean in and give him a tender kiss.

When they break away, they stay close and look him in the eye. “What you gave me was a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.”

Astarion smiles. “Nor I.”

With one last kiss, they say their goodbyes. “Goodnight, Astarion,” they say. “I do hope we meet again, one of these days.”

“Me too,” he says, watching their retreat. “Goodnight, Tav.”

[steddielations]

Dom Steve Fic Recs

Strange as Angels (soft dom steve) by @munsonkitten

Eddie hasn't been able to get himself off in months, and now he's high, sweaty, and horny, thinking about the very man sitting in his room in nothing but a wife beater and a pair of tiny athletic shorts, and he thinks he might die. Steve notices. Of course, Steve fucking notices, what, with all the squirming Eddie's doing. Steve offers to help get Eddie off. As friends do. (As long as those friends are completely in love with each other.)

Like The Hero Who Never Ran (dom awakening series) by callmejude

While Steve and Dustin are searching for survivors, they're surprised to find Eddie alive, hiding out in Rick's cabin. Steve takes up the task of caring for him while staying in his trailer.

Genius Loci (dom bottom, magic steve) by @sayesayes

It’s 1986, and Steve falls in love with a boy who is leaving. It’s 1990, and Eddie comes back home. The fic where Steve is a selectively mute, homesteading, truck-driving witch with head injuries and also somehow it's canonverse.

(Don't) cream your pants (soft dom steve awakening series) by @corrodedbisexual

“Don’t know how to cream your pants, huh?” Steve asks, unable to conceal a smirk. He hears a quiet whine as Eddie seems to try and make himself disappear inside the couch. “Want me to show you how?”

Gilded (dom steve, blindfolds, ice play) by @cheshiredogao3

Steve and Eddie are looking forward to a weekend all to themselves, but it doesn’t go as planned.

Trouble Looks Good On You (wip, spanking, kink discovery) by me indelicate

It happens like a fever dream. The first time Steve gives Eddie a swift smack on the ass, it’s obviously just an old jock habit that’s stuck with him. It wasn’t meant to have Eddie’s knees going weak, or turn his blood hot under his skin, or give him a brand in the shape of Steve Harrington’s hand, or— Nope, because Eddie’s not even into that. But then, it happens again. Or, Steve keeps accidentally awakening Eddie’s new kinks.

You Make Me Feel Like I Am Whole Again (wip, dom top and dom bottom steve) by @munsonkitten

Eddie has never felt like his body belongs to him. It gets worse after he's nearly mauled to death, left with scars and healing wounds, a lopsided chest, and more trauma stacked on top of everything already wrong with him. Steve Harrington finds out Eddie's trans by accident after the bats, and Eddie finds out Steve's surprisingly okay with it. More than okay with it.

Bite Through These Wires (soft dom steve's strap game series 🤭) by @steves-strapcollection

“Wouldn’t you be Ken, though?” Steve had hoped Eddie would ask a question like that and he had to refrain from punching the air and ruining his punchline. “I come with all the coolest accessories, so clearly I’m still Barbie,” Steve retorted, his voice going just a bit deeper as he leaned closer to Eddie.

Relax (Lay it Back) (soft dom yoga instructor steve) by @wynnyfryd

Five times yoga instructor Steve teaches Eddie how to chill the fuck out, and the one time he learns his lesson.

Melt Me On Your Tongue (soft dom, bathing) by me indelicate

“This okay?” “Yeah it’s— shit, it’s more than okay, Steve.” “… you’re crying, Eds.” Eddie can’t hold back a choked off noise then, somewhere between an overwhelmed laugh and a sob. “No one’s ever done this to me before.” He doesn’t know if he means no one’s ever given him a bath, or braided his hair, or just any of the things Steve does for him, really. Eddie's never had a Steve before.

Kiss Me (Beneath the Milky Twilight) (pleasure dom steve, virgin eddie) by @gorgeousgreymatter-x

Eddie has never been kissed. Steve apparently would very much like to volunteer to fix this.

Getting Lost in the Dark is My Favorite Part (wip, masochist virgin eddie, kink discovery) by queerontilmorning

After his near-death experience, Eddie decides it's time to get rid of his pesky virginity and heads to a gay bar. It leads to some... realizations... for both him and Steve.

You're a Sweet Shot of Kerosene (When I Threw it Back, it Poisoned Me) (wip, mob boss steve) by @gorgeousgreymatter-x

Whatever fucked up shit Eddie’s father had inadvertently roped him into simply by being what he was — a shit-stain excuse for a sperm donor who preferred sticking a needle in his arm to taking care of his family — well, Eddie’s pretty sure it’s about to be him that pays that price. And maybe Eddie’s delirious, because by the time it’s apparently his turn and they’re dragging him down some hallway (and yeah, it’s not like Eddie’s not trying to put up a fight, but it feels almost performative at this point considering he’s pretty much hogtied here), the only real thought he has when they deposit him on yet another cold, wet tile floor is this: Uncle Wayne is gonna be so pissed at me if I get shot in the head tonight.

closer to you (soft dom steve) by @natesfwl

“C’mon baby, where's my little rockstar?” Steve spanks him, groans when he feels Eddie tense up around him from the impact, “Perform for me.” “You let me penetrate you” Eddie stutters out the line as he lifts himself up with his knees. “There you go,” Steve whispers, watching as Eddie fights to keep his eyes locked onto Steve’s when he sinks back down. or the really self-indulgent fic of steddie fucking to the song closer by NIN.

Destroy The Silence (drummer steve) by @artaxlivs

Steve becomes the drummer for Corroded Coffin and Eddie can't handle his thirst

Trouble and Temptation (series wip, businessman dilf steve) by @heartharps

“Come on, Harrington. I’d lay you badly but I’d lay you gladly.” When Steve looked up, he was glaring, as stern and serious as ever. “Eddie, let me remind you that as far as I'm concerned, nothing has ever happened between us other than of a professional nature.”

Sting, and Other Brainworms (series with switching) by @riality-check

“Do you need to go down, baby?” Eddie gets like this, sometimes. Stuck between overwhelmed and incredibly bored. Steve watches until he remembers that they have a way to fix this. Eddie calls it a hard reset. Steve calls it fucking him until he can’t see straight.

Edification (sadist steve) by aristal

“Alright Munson.” She bares her teeth and grins like a wolf. “Tell the class: what’s your biggest sexual fantasy?” A slow smile creeps into his features, and his dark eyes flash. “Oh, you’re asking the good questions, Wheeler.” He takes another long pull of his joint, dragging the moment out for dramatic effect. Steve doesn’t care. He wants to know the answer. He needs to know. Eventually, Eddie blows out the smoke, eyes a little hazy as he grins at the ceiling. “I’ve always liked the idea of being slapped around and choked in someone’s car.”

In My Boxers, Half Stoned (dom bottom Steve) by eddywow

"You can," Eddie said, almost sounding like he was nodding along to his words. The image was too pure for Steve. "You could say anything you want to me and I'd- I think I'd be into it. Because I saw your pics and like, I know your face isn't in them but- but I really like them. Is it okay that I liked them?"

Insatiable (public, skirts, cages) by @cheshiredogao3

When their club ritual is rudely interrupted, Steve and Eddie make a point of proving their bond—rather publicly.

Done Deal (series with switching) by @morningberriesao3

Steve Harrington doesn't have any money with him, so he offers to pay Eddie Munson some other way.

Lovebite (sub vampire eddie) by hellcore

It shouldn’t feel so good, being tasted.

* The next few don't have the tag but in my opinion they have dom Steve vibes and I want to include them here (:

Cyclical (wip, time loop fic, rimming, switching, lots of smut with plot) by @cuips-not-cute

steve keeps finding himself back in the boathouse where everything started, wrapped up in the arms of a boy who can’t stop dying. he's desperate to rewrite the timeline, trying everything he can think of to fix it. including falling in love.

Dirty Words by @morningberriesao3

Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.

Memorize My Number, That's Why I Got A Phone (phone sex) by queerontilmorning

while on tour with Corroded Coffin, Eddie makes an important phone call to Steve.

My Right Hand Man (spanking, kink discovery) by @entanglednow

In which movie night takes an unexpected turn, and it's surprisingly easy to just let it happen.

Shot Right Through (pierced eddie) by @entanglednow

Steve overhears a conversation between Eddie and Robin, and then spends a few weeks trying to think of anything else.

Pleased To Meet You (demon steve) by midnightdrive

Eddie accidentally summons a demon who is bound to fulfill his every wish. He, somehow, gets more than he had bargained for.

[ddejavvu]

It says requests are open so how about reader getting caught while watching spencer reid edits?

His footsteps are masked by the suggestive song playing from your phone's speakers, but you're aware of Spencer's presence as soon as he leans over your shoulder, his slightly frizzy hair tickling your cheek.

"What's that?" He asks curiously, at the same time that you smash your finger over the lock button of your phone, the music cutting out abruptly.

"Nothing!" You insist, heart pounding in your chest, "Jesus, Spencer, you scared me."

"Was that a video of me?" He presses, but there's no accusation in his tone. You're extremely thankful that his aversion to technology has steered him away from TikTok, because he doesn't seem to have caught that you were watching an edit of him.

"Uh- sort of," You admit, feeling too cornered and guilty to lie to your boyfriend who rounds the couch and sits beside you, "I didn't make it, though."

That's worse. You want to backpedal, you want to take the words out of his brain where they're turning like gears and smash them to bits on the ground. His brow furrows, and his nose wrinkles slightly, "What?"

"It's nothing," You shake your head, waving away his concern and wishing you could do the same thing for your embarrassment, "Just drop it, Spence."

He looks like he's going to. He doesn't look like he wants to, because his scrunched brow perpetuates and he gnaws at the inside of his cheek. After a moment of deliberation between respecting your wishes and satiating his own curiosity, he chooses your least favorite option.

"So- someone else made that video? Of me? Is it- like, online?"

"Spencer!" You gush, cheeks ablaze as you whine at him petulantly, "Please, I don't wanna talk about it."

"I do!" He insists with an incredulous laugh, "I don't understand, you found that online somewhere?"

"Yes," You groan, "On TikTok, Spencer."

"I don't have a TikTok," He informs you, like maybe you're confused, "Who posted it?"

"I don't know!" You cry, launching yourself forwards so that your face lands unceremoniously into his lap, "Spencer, it wasn't me, I don't know who posted it, I just saw it."

"I heard the sound repeat 5 times," He admits, a gentle hand on the back of your head stroking through your hair, "I came to see why you liked that part of the song so much."

"Oh my god," You groan, the fabric of his joggers doing very little to cool the heat from your burning cheeks, "I'm gonna throw my phone in the garbage disposal."

"Where was the footage from?" He kindly directs the conversation away from you, and you rise out of his lap to glare defeatedly at him.

"Press conferences," You mumble, "And news reports."

"Weird," He mumbles, reaching for your phone, "Can I see it?"

"No!" You shriek, but he's got a hold of the device before you can stop him, and one thing you've learned about him is that he has incredible grip strength. You think the only way you'll get it back is by beating him up, and you wouldn't even if you could.

He knows your password and bypasses it too easily. The video starts once more, and his lips curl into a faint smirk as he realizes just why the editor had chosen the sound that they had.

"You're watching porn of me," He discovers, and you let out a desperate wail at the term he chooses to use, "You really liked this enough to watch it five times?"

"Spencer turn it off- no, not the comments!" You watch as his thumb descends upon the button with no hesitation, any chance of your dignity surviving flying out the window.

"Until the room stinks," He reads with narrowed eyes, then glances at the red heart beside the comment, "You liked it?"

[rosemaze-reveries]

― enclosed with love

spending valentine's day with you eli, mary, michiko, naib, norton, percy, philippe

i adored this year's vday café designs so i wrote some hcs for them ^^

⚠️ modern AU

♡ Mary

With a delicate and highly sophisticated palate, Mary is always searching for something new to satisfy her. For Valentine's Day, she books a private tour at a high-end champagne house.

Her driver is scheduled to pick you up in the early afternoon. She arranged your date so “late” to give herself ample time to settle on an outfit. Her room is littered with hat boxes and empty hangers and piles of ‘maybes’. Everything must be perfect for you. But, every second without you feeds into her restlessness, and she ends up calling you to fill the time. Hours go by on the phone & she still refuses to hang up until she pulls outside your residence.

When she first greets you from the backseat of her car, her hands are on you immediately. She smoothes out the collar of your jacket and peppers a couple of warm kisses all across your face, somehow never quite landing on your lips. She quickly dabs away all the lipstick stamps she left with her handkerchief and apologizes for being so forward,,, only to end up doing it again.

Mary takes high pride in her outfits and never compromises on looking classy. But somewhere in the back of your head, you think: All white? To a wine tasting? What if she gets red stains on her dress? From anyone else, this comment would insult her ― she doesn't take kindly to the insinuation that she's a klutz. Coming from you, she laughs it off saying she's always looked better in red anyway.

She waits until arriving for your tour to present her gifts. Mary gives VERY generously. There's an entire table prepared for you. Mountains of roses, desserts, tickets to that trip you've always wanted to take, luxury spa packages -- she has everything.

♡ Norton

This Valentine's Day is the first Norton will be spending with someone. He'll act like he's not that invested in it, that he's just indulging you.

He keeps up a haughty smirk when you first meet for your date. You had a love letter delivered to him that morning, and he's 100% taking the opportunity to tease you about it. You wrote some pretty embarrassing things about him. How's the real deal living up to your expectations? Dying to bring some of those thoughts to life already? Unfortunately, you insisted on having a traditional date for Valentine's, so you'll have to keep yourself in check until tonight. ← He knows he makes you crazy & he loves having that effect on you.

He gives you chocolates as a gift. They're clearly homemade, shaped like rocks of various sizes with a little gold-dusted heart hidden among them. But just in case you wouldn't be able to recognize them as rocks, he also provided a little toothpick "pickaxe."

Presenting something homemade is a little embarrassing, even if he hides it with that big grin of his. He gives your present a little too fast before switching back to teasing you again.

♡ Philippe

As a perfectionist, Philippe starts planning for Valentine's Day very early. He experiments with all sorts of gift ideas. You're not sure what's going through his head, but he has a highly specific vision and won't rest until he achieves it. He seems to find it important that he gives you something handmade.

Matching photo lockets? A decoden case (if you're into fun phone cases)? Not meaningful enough. A flower vase modeled after his own hand, to sit on your desk? Too tacky. A wax figure? Maybe, but that's too predictable on its own. Maybe he should learn guitar to serenade you.

His final choice is ambitious, but Philippe always is. He builds a little table out of resin, and preserved inside it are your favorite flowers, with detailed wax figurines of you and him dancing among them. It sits in a corner of his favorite room, where he often does dance with you ♡

On the day itself, Philippe would prefer to stay home. It's one of the rare times he gets to have you to himself free of work constraints.

He's the type that always needs to be doing something with his hands. He'd enjoy making chocolate sculptures together -- it's a cute idea, he thinks, to watch you make something so passionately. Whatever your skill level, he loves anything you make.

In the evening, he'll take over all the cooking. A quiet night with steak and good wine (or your preferred drink) is a little cliche, but you both deserve it. Plus, he loves nothing more than casually chatting with you while he works in the kitchen.

♡ Naib

Naib isn't really into the idea of Valentine's Day. He might not even realize it's coming up unless you tell him about it. You'd have to be explicit that you're looking forward to spending the day with him, and even then, he's totally unprepared.

Gifts have never been his forte. Neither have grand romantic gestures. But he's good at working his pragmatic side into the little things: so rather than push himself to be this lovey-dovey, chocolates-and-roses type of lover for the day, he focuses on being 'present' for you.

He brings you breakfast in bed. He's a mean cook, and knows all your favorites. Everything he makes tastes like home, warm and full of love.

Most couples give each other flowers, he knows that, so he goes shopping for one. You're surprised when he presents you with a bouquet of lemons. In his mind, they're cool and refreshing like you, everyone could find a use for some lemons, and personally he finds the colors to be appealing. It doesn't occur to him that lemon bouquets might be an unusual thing to give.

He relies on you to direct the date. Whatever you say, he'll agree. In public, he never leans in for kisses but wouldn't oppose yours. You can try to stand closer to him & he'll slink an arm around your waist briefly, as if to reassure you that he'll always have a secure hold on you, but he'll pull away again before long.

♡ Percy

In spite of all of his eccentricities, Percy is surprisingly traditional when it comes to romance. He invites you to a nice dinner date & arrives much earlier than you, waiting with a bouquet and chocolates. When he first sees you, he wraps a secure arm around your shoulders to tenderly kiss your forehead.

Getting to see this side of him is the payoff of building such a deep relationship with him. Percy is a difficult person to get through. He's obsessive to a fault and cloisters himself away in his studio for days at a time ― no one else would have been able to breach his heart like you have. He will take proper measures to express your importance to him.

His first real kiss leaves tiny particles of something on your lips, but they're sweet in taste. He laughs at the startled look on your face and reassures you it was just a sugar cube. At first he says he was just fishing for a reaction, but later confesses: he was afraid the lips of an undead man might have an odd taste, so he crunched a sugar cube to sweeten it.

♡ Eli

Eli spends the morning delivering roses to other couples on his bicycle. People tend to get especially flattered when their flowers arrive via owl, so his services are very popular this time of year.

He enjoys the little bouts of happiness he can bring to others, but of course you are the one he wants to spend this day with most. With every bouquet he delivers, his mind wanders to you, imagining your reaction when he finally gets to deliver his gift.

He asks you to meet him at an ice cream parlor when his shift is done, around noon. Before you even see him, Brooke Rose flies over to tuck a thornless rose behind your ear, and you turn to find Eli already waiting at a table.

He gives you a small homemade cake and a letter he won't let you read until he's gone. He's a pretty sappy guy even in person, so you aren't sure how his letter will be much different. But having something to be excited about, even after you have to say goodbye, makes it worth it.

His bike rides have left very familiar with all the best spots around town. After splitting ice cream, he takes you for a ride to all the little places he thinks you'll love. A flower meadow, a bridge with a superstition attached: if you whisper the name of your love while crossing it, you'll be bound for life. Part of you suspects he made that up, but the way he says your name over and over makes your heart skip a beat.

Once the sun goes down, he brings you to a forest. Somehow he manages to time it just right. He gestures for you to stay very quiet, gently takes your hands, and suddenly you're encircled by hundreds of fireflies.

♡ Michiko

Since losing her ex-husband, Valentine's Day has become a bitter thing for Michiko, especially since it's so close to their anniversary. She has treated it as a day of mourning for some years. Of course, she keeps up a smile for you ― it's not in her character to impose her struggles on others.

The morning goes by slowly and comfortably. You wake up to a gentle massage and the smell of fresh baked pastries. She writes you a sweet letter in her neat script, and she adorns her letter with pressed flowers & a mini bouquet of your favorite candy.

She makes sure to get you a proper gift, too. She follows a rule of getting 1 indulgent and 1 practical thing: a box of luxury chocolates alongside a fine new coat.

Her ideal date would be something intimate and relaxing. Maybe the theatre, in a box reserved for two, or a shaded flower garden where you can enjoy a cup of tea.

[moonastro]

the vibe you give out to others

pick a picture

left to right(top)-> 1,2

left to right(bottom)-> 3,4

°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes. °Don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as i would entirely appreciate it). ° This is a GENERAL reading, take what resonates and leave and pass on what does not!

PILE ONE

someone who can communicate hours on end with someone, usually about the deeper stuff. so you may like to share your thoughts a lot which leaves people guessing that you would be a very good person to talk to. you also are good with reading the vibes of a room, people almost expect you to change the atmosphere of the vibe within a group. you really are someone who solves problems, situation ships and other things people may need assistance with. i feel like you help others grow, you teach people from wrong or right and perform humanitarian acts. if you are in a bad situation, you get the heck out of there as soon as possible, people know that because you may express your thoughts and feeling through communication. i feel like you talk about the little things to others that they might even find that you can be oversharing at times. anyhow, you may look back on what people did you in the past or vice versa. you don't hold onto a thread, you make very clear decisions that take you wherever it may.

yeah, you learn from your mistakes and only go forward which makes you a stronger individual. there is still some youthful energy surrounding this pile, so don't forget to not be hard on yourself all the time, you give out but not necessarily get given back which allows people to use your time unnecessarily. people can also see a child in you, you may get told that you remind someone of their son or daughter. being behind the scenes is what you are used to and may project a certain insecurity that others notice. i feel like its that others see their own insecurities in you as well which may cause jealousy. you are careful though, you plan, you observe and you double check. there is nothing wrong with being in routine but i feel like people notice that you are too afraid of failure because you might have grew up to be the high achieving kid or the oldest child who had influence on the younger siblings and so forth. overall a very sensual and hardworking pile.

assigned song: Black beauty- Lana Del Rey

PILE TWO

very energetic around people or friends and family but think a lot by yourself, you may keep your true self hidden. you are such a good manifester and people notice that whatever you say out loud becomes real. people may call you a psychic because you just know things before others do, for example if a friend asks about something like an event and you just tell them like "watch this happen in there" and something like this and it happening. you are quite reserved with your feeling and emotions, you use them on better things. around you, others feel confident and secure. you are a very good empath and feel whatever others are feeling, so it is very easy to empress ones feelings to you. you are such a caring and observing individual that others feel nothing but security and comfort around you. honestly such a nostalgic pile!!

you crave a free life where you are not stuck to anything or anyone, people feel the freedom you possess. you don't aim to be powerful nor business oriented, you just want to see what's out there and see what other cultures and countries have in store for you. i feel like you have a plan that you have that consists of you travelling abroad and creating a happy home there at a new setting. you are good with legal matters like documents, credit cards, the law and so forth. you may know about it as you may be interesting in becoming a lawyer or working somewhere that involves a law, like police and so on. but on a real note, you balance everything out in your life, people see how well you split your routine in even pieces. overall, this is a very free spirited and intelligent pile!

assigned song: Ride- Lana Del Rey

PILE THREE

someone who reserves there space and energy, someone who talks very cautiously and are aware of their surroundings. a lot of people don't actually know how to figure you out and it may sound very cliché but i think its just because you don't reveal your feelings by making facial expressions and people don't know whether to laugh or cry when you tell them something serious. you might like to do stuff alone and may feel like a burden to others but it is not the case for other people, they see you as a sweet and isolated human being that likes their space and peace. i see a LOTTT of overthinking and just daydreaming in general. i feel like something is restricting you from taking action and i think it is your thoughts, relax pile 3😅. no but for real, others avoid you not because you are unlikable but because they see how you thrive alone and you don't look like the type of person that needs help from others.

you may have moved a lot as a child and felt like you lost many things because of that. i feel like you don't feel secure and people notice the disease you portray in your body language. that is totally not a bad thing but i feel like others see the frustration and a void that you have, this is very deep but I'm getting an image of just a black figure which may translate of you feeling numb or not feeling anything at all. i feel like this was in the past for some of you, however where there is hardships there is hope and that is exactly the case for this pile. on a good note, your smile brings comfort to others, may make others happy with your smile and that's just so sweet. you do have many ideas flooding in your mind and i feel like that could bring you excesses so be careful. you have many ideas to start over or to change your personality completely. overall, this is a very reserved and a busy mind pile!

assigned song: How to Disappear- Lana Del Rey

PILE FOUR

check out pile one if you felt drawn to it as it may resonate with some of you!! so, you care about others very deeply and this gives me motherly vibes. i feel like you may not listen to people and do your own thing but that's entirely okay but the way i see it is that you sometimes need to take advice in order to move forward. you stand your ground fairly and see the contrast between right and wrong, i feel like that gets people thinking how you pick up on things others don't pay much attention to. say if you called someone out for something, others may go like "oh yeah, i didn't even notice". you really cant be bothered to argue with no one, you feel like there is no point because people are childish and immature and that is something you would rather pass on. conflicts and any other sort of fighting is a strict no go for you. people get the vibe of how can you keep your cool??? they actually are very impressed of your skill to maintain your cool😊. i feel like also you go through very transformative periods in your life that actually change your way you act, maybe you go through different eras and like to experiment different styles and ways of living which is totally fine.

wow, you are a very powerful soul, you have some sort of power that others are stunned. you are literally the lion of the jungle, the boss, the CEO, the millionaire, the royal. WOwww just wow. people just keep getting surprise on surprise from you, you may have so many precious hidden facts about you that make people stunned by the fact that you have so much treasure hidden. people see you as a very humble individual who is always there for people and see the good in everyone. it is such a pleasure to be around you, people may feel almost lucky to have you in their life. you hold a lot of secrets as you may stand with he statement that if you talk about your achievements to others it may delay your success. overall, a very very very powerful and mysterious pile.

assigned song: LION- (G)-idle

that's it everyone, thanks for sticking by and like always don't be afraid to interact with this post however you'd like as i entire appreciate everyone's support and kindness!!

FRIENDLY REMINDER- paid tarot readings are available (DM or check out here for more info!!)

*IMAGES ARE NOT MINE*

[egcdeath]

out in the open

pairing: patrick zweig x f!reader

summary: your wedding night doesn’t go as smoothly as you expect it to. succession au - tomshiv adjacent (previous parts: part 1, part 2, part 3)

word count: 8.8k

warnings: failmarriage, fluff in the beginning, cheating, angst, jealousy, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol and smoking, suggestive content, insecurity, patrick is kinda the worst in this. he does get better though.

author’s note: full disclaimer things are pretty angsty and they only get angstier from here. cheating is a major plot point from this point forward. there will be a few happier moments but it’s mostly bad vibes and tension from this point on.

i say this with every fic i post in this universe but i truly could not have written this without the help of my succession anon!! weddingnightgate (WNG) is such a big moment in this au and they really helped me get my thoughts in order and helped me world build. i hope you all enjoy the upcoming pain!

When you were young, you always dreamed about your wedding. You fantasized about a huge venue somewhere halfway around the world that would easily fit all of your closest friends and family members and of celebrity guests who would give you well wishes for the marriage and smiled at you in spite of their envy at your beautiful event. You imagined a gorgeous, intricate dress with a train so long that you’d need assistance going down the aisle, a cake the size of your tallest guest, and a groom who was as handsome as he was loving, pressing the promise of True Love’s Kiss onto your lips after he read you his vows.

Maybe your enthusiasm for weddings was fueled by a few too many movies where the princess found her prince charming and lived happily ever after with him, but you still fell in love with the idea of love, and the thought that a wedding should be as beautiful as the love itself was.

You would never forget the first wedding you attended, despite being so young that you shouldn’t have really recalled it. You somehow managed to worm your way into being the flower girl at your aunt’s wedding, skipping excitedly down the aisle of the beachside venue, tossing flowers with reckless abandon. As you watched the rest of the ceremony from the safety of your mother’s hip, you couldn’t help but to imagine yourself being the one to walk down the aisle someday. 

Much like your first wedding memory, you also couldn’t forget the first time you learned about divorce. Though you were young, the memory of your best friend crying next to you during recess as she sobbed out the news that her parents were splitting forever stuck out in your mind. You’d been fed the idea that love was strong and everlasting for so long, that the very notion that there were some things that love couldn’t withstand rocked you to your core. 

From that point on, you became more grounded in your approach to love. Love was rarely a fairytale, and it was naive for you to assume that your future wedding would be one either. 

As the years went by, you grew more realistic about your expectations for the future. You found a boyfriend who you dated throughout the latter half of your undergraduate years and through your time in business school, and fully expected to settle down with him—though you knew you’d be settling in the most literal sense. While he was a stable figure in your life, he was boring, and his aspirations in life for both you and himself didn’t align at all with what you saw yourself doing. He wanted a wife, and you wanted to make a name for yourself doing the work that was meaningful to you.

When he got down on one knee in front of you, you realized that you had two options in front of you: follow your own dreams or follow his. 

Naivety be damned, you chose yourself and never looked back. 

In your pursuit of making your non-love related aspirations come true, you abandoned all hope that your pipe-dream of a fantasy wedding would ever come to fruition. It occasionally felt like your hopes were incompatible—to be a successful businesswoman meant giving up all prospects of a romantic life. It seemed like everyone you encountered was put off by your lack of work-life balance, or wanted to hunt you for sport and turn you into a trophy wife. 

You’d practically given up all hope by the time you met Patrick, fully expecting to be able to use him for a brief fling and a connection to get into his family’s company. What you weren’t expecting was to find someone whose company you genuinely enjoyed, who understood you on a level you hadn’t experienced with anyone else, and a love that occasionally left you wondering if you were a protagonist in the movies you loved watching as a girl. 

If someone told you that years after meeting Patrick, that one day you would be gazing into his eyes with tears in yours as you listened to his vows, or telling him that you do take him to be your husband, to have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ‘till death did you two part.

Your wedding ceremony felt straight out of your girlish dreams, with Patrick’s beautiful family castle serving as the venue, paparazzi-worthy guests, a dress that felt like a direct product of your wildest imagination, and a groom that seemed to be as close to a prince charming as reality could get. 

You were on cloud nine throughout the ceremony, basking in every single moment. You felt like you were floating by the time you got to the reception, your brain in the clouds as you and your now-husband cut your massive cake and gave toasts. 

It was all a blur in the best way possible, your elation making what you thought might be an embarrassing moment of a first dance exciting, and the subsequent socializing with guests substantially more bearable. 

What was slightly less bearable was the speed at which you were separated from your husband, the two of you occasionally catching the others eye from across the room, but otherwise being separated from surprisingly demanding guests who wanted to wish you luck on your marriage or excitedly share how amazing they found the ceremony to be. 

Occasionally, you were able to squeeze in a brief moment with your spouse, bringing him a flute of champagne and momentarily pulling him away from an exceptionally chatty shareholder, but you seemed to be frequently whisked away from each other. 

After what felt like a lifetime apart from each other, you felt the familiar, comforting warmth of Patrick’s hand on your lower back as he approached you from behind. When he announced to the extended family members standing across from you that he needed a moment alone with you, you almost leapt with joy. Nothing seemed more appealing than a private conversation with him after a long night of socializing with friends and colleagues. 

It almost felt ironic that during an event that should’ve been focused on the two of you as a pair, you were separated and kept apart by people with business pitches and opposing interests, excited to hop onto whatever opportunity your union might bring them. 

Patrick took you by surprise as he led you up the stairs and to your bedroom. It seemed a little early to begin your wedding night festivities, but if he was really that enthusiastic about it, you were certain that you could share some of his excitement. 

“Thanks for getting us out of there,” you commented as you shut the door behind you. “So much for not talking about work at the wedding. I guess it’s too much to ask for one day to celebrate you being my husband before talking about the business again.”

You walked over to the vanity, preparing to touch up your makeup. You shot a glance over at your partner, who cautiously sat himself down on your bed, fidgeting with his hands as he did so. Not paying him any mind, you began to reapply your lipstick in the mirror and looked at his reflection, catching that he seemed to be in deep thought, but not thinking too much of it. It was probably something a shareholder told him. Maybe his sister was planning yet another attempt at a hostile takeover of the business. 

“Husband. Wow, you’re my husband now. That feels so crazy to say. Husband, husband, husband,” you mused, a ball of excited energy.  “Well, husband, what did you pull me in to talk about? Is it Sherry’s dress? It’s really hideous. I can’t believe she would wear something like that to our wedding,” you continued to ramble. “Or do you want a sneak peak of what I’ve got going on under this dress?”

You were shocked to find Patrick mostly unresponsive to your rapid words. He was never one to turn down the opportunity to gossip about his social circle or flirt with you. You pulled your attention away from yourself in the mirror and turned your head back to look at your husband, only to be met with a mostly unreadable expression, apart from the hint of a sad smile on his face. 

Suddenly, things didn’t feel so fun. For some unexplained reason, you felt a small pit appear in the depths of your stomach. While you didn’t know exactly what was wrong, something obviously didn’t feel right. There was no reason for your partner to be looking as unsettled as he did on his own wedding night. 

“You’re not having second thoughts already, are you?” you stood up and began to approach him from where he was sitting on the bed, making it more apparent to you that his brows were drawn together in what could only be the beginning of a frown. 

“Of course not,” he assured you, though guilt was written all over his face. You weren’t sure how you should interpret your husband looking like a child who just broke an expensive vase on your wedding night, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. “But I need to tell you something.”

“What?” you laughed nervously, the small pit that appeared in your stomach growing into a slightly larger pit. As much as you wanted to dismiss it as nothing, the heavy tension hanging in the air warned you that the odds of his confession being nothing were growing slimmer and slimmer with each passing moment.  

“Uh,” he paused as if he was considering his next words very carefully—almost as if he didn’t want to say them at all. You desperately wanted him to speak, rather than keep you hanging. With your nerves exponentially growing with every passing second, you began to feel like if he didn’t say anything soon, you might throw up all over your reception dress.  

“Patrick, please spit it out. You’re kinda scaring me,” you could already feel yourself growing upset, despite the fact that he hadn’t said a single word to indicate what was going on with him. Your heart quickened in your chest as you anticipated his next words, despite not having a clue about what might come out of his mouth.  

“We always said that if something happened, we could handle it like adults,” the statement was vague and simple, yet Patrick seemed to be choking it out. His cryptic message rattled around in your brain as you desperately searched for meaning in them. Before you could even begin to ask him what he meant, you registered the dismissive, callous language. 

Though he didn’t say it often, he had confused you with those very words before—the verbiage alarmingly reminiscent of what he told you before your bachelorette party, or when you brought up the lack of an infidelity clause in his prenup. 

If anything ever happened with anyone else, we could both handle it. We’re adults and we can handle things like adults.

Though his words were curious, you dismissed them at the time, never expecting that to be an issue. Of all of your problems with Patrick—his difficulty expressing his emotions, his complicated relationship with his family, his lack of experience in love—you never expected infidelity to be one of those problems. 

You swallowed, your saliva feeling thick and poisonous as it slowly crept down your throat. “Honey, what do you mean?”

Patrick didn’t speak, looking down at the pristinely folded sheets in front of him rather than at you. “I’m sorry,” was all that he managed to get out. 

You looked at Patrick blankly, waiting for him to tell you that whatever you were assuming wasn’t true or that he was pulling some sort of cruel prank on you. Instead, all you were met with was the sound of blood urgently rushing through your ears and the faint bassline of whatever song the DJ was playing at your reception. 

“You know that love is complicated for me,” he looked in your direction, but couldn’t sustain eye contact with you. “Can we be adults about this?”

Once it became clear to you what exactly Patrick was trying to tell you, your knees gave out on you, the rest of your body overwhelmed with the unfathomable information that your brain was trying to process. Patrick cheated on you—and he was telling you just hours after you got married. 

The truth of the situation sucked the air right out of your lungs and the strength right out of your body. Your knees buckled under you, and you desperately seeked out anything you could sit on. You settled on the foot of the bed, across from where your husband nervously sat. 

“Fuck,” you dug the palms of your hands into your eyes, surely smudging the makeup on your eyelids as you attempted to collect your thoughts. “Who was it?”

“It didn’t mean anything to me,” he pathetically attempted to explain away. It all sounded like gibberish to you. For all you knew, your husband was speaking a totally different language to you. 

Despite your question and Patrick’s non-answer, you somehow felt like you knew exactly who he’d been with. The answer was all over his discomfort when he saw you talking to the woman without him by your side, and the way she sized you up and attempted to psych you out of marrying Patrick not even 24 hours ago. 

“Was it Tashi?” you asked, not even listening to his empty words and keeping your face frighteningly neutral. You spoke the words like you were playing a round of Guess Who, calm and even despite the budding feeling of dread in your stomach. 

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. His deafening silence was answer enough

“Can I kick her out?” you asked with an alarmingly stable tone, still mostly unable to process this information, but knowing that it wasn’t good. 

“Yeah,” he replied quietly, head still hung and unable to make eye contact with you. 

As you took in the truly depressing sight in front of you—your husband’s hunched over posture, a shame so strong that he couldn’t even look at you, and his clipped, short answers—you couldn’t deny that you were tempted to comfort him. In any other situation, if Patrick was feeling a fraction of the negative emotion he seemed to be feeling in that moment, you would instantly be at his side, holding his hand reassuringly or holding him close in a way that told him that if no one else was there for him, you would be, but you weren’t sure you could legitimize his bad behavior with such a response. 

Instinctually, you reached out to touch him like you’d done a thousand times before, giving him a hug before a big event or spooning him after a family member said something that got under his skin, but you instantly reprimanded yourself. Despite how sad he looked, Patrick was the one who hurt you. You were the one who deserved comfort. 

You opted to pat Patrick’s back instead, a strange and impersonal action. For a moment, you felt less like his wife and more like a practically estranged family member, not sure how to greet you after meeting you for the first time three Thanksgivings ago. 

Your husband barely reacted to the stiff action, only looking at you wordlessly with glossed-over eyes. You got up from the foot of the bed and left wordlessly and neutrally, a robot whose only orders were to get out of the bedroom and shut the door behind you. 

The moment the door closed, the next goal settled into your mind—you couldn’t let Tashi spend another second in the venue, socializing with your family and drinking the wine that your parents so kindly provided to the wedding, as if she hadn’t been partaking in an affair with your husband. 

You felt half a bride and half a zombie as you left the confines of the bedroom and wandered the hallways. You were stone faced as you made your way back to the reception, trying to wrap your head and heart around devastating information that was shared with you at the most inopportune time possible. 

You made a slow march down the stairs, movement hindered by your dress, and imagined what you might say to Tashi once you saw her. You should’ve known something was off from the start. You should’ve trusted the bad feeling you had when she sized you up at the bar, smirking at you like the cat who got the cream before feeding you anecdotes about how sleazy your husband used to be for no apparent reason. You should’ve trusted that feeling when Patrick rushed over to pull you away.

You wished you paid attention when Patrick faintly smelled of feminine perfume when you surprised him by coming back from a business trip earlier than anticipated, or when you noticed a bracelet that didn’t belong to you sitting on your coffee table, one that disappeared the very next day. It was so easy to write the signs off at the time–the fragrance of your personal chef and the jewelry of one of his sisters–but it no longer felt that simple. Patrick was a lot of things, but you never expected that a cheater was one of those things.

The thought of Patrick with someone else made you nauseous, especially in your own home. You faintly wondered if they’d fucked in your bed or on the couch. If the answer was yes to either, you desperately wanted to burn the pieces of furniture. In fact, that would be the first thing you set out to do when you returned home after your honeymoon. Maybe you would even beg Patrick to move to a new place, one not haunted by the memories of him and another woman. 

That was, if your relationship even survived through the honeymoon. Let alone the night. You didn’t have a clue what your next steps would be. Would you be the fool who stays with a man who proved himself to be disloyal? Or would you be the fool who offered herself to the wrath of one of the most powerful families in the world? You would lose your husband, your job, and your livelihood in one fell swoop, surely being banished back to your family home in Minnesota, destined to be a receptionist at your father’s law firm for the rest of your life. 

The entire situation felt surreal in the worst possible way. You couldn’t believe that while you were dealing with the aftermath of this information, Tashi was waltzing around at your reception. More than that, you couldn’t believe the information itself: Patrick cheated. Your fiancé cheated. Your husband cheated on you. 

The same Patrick who became a groomzilla, laser-focused on giving you your dream wedding, cheated. The same man who confessed that he didn’t know what love felt like before he met you cheated on you. Your husband, who went out of his way to do anything to make you happy, even at the expense of his very powerful family, hadn’t been loyal to you. 

None of it made sense. Maybe you would walk back into the room and your guests would jump out from behind tables and reveal that this was all a cruel joke—a little hazing as you officially became a Zweig—their laughter filling up the room at the thought that you would ever believe something as ridiculous as Patrick cheating on you. 

You bit back bile as you walked into the room, the party continuing on the same way it had before you left and before you reentered—no prank to be found. The cacophony of loud music and the chatter of your guests filling your ears once more—what felt fun and exciting just moments before, now being far too overstimulating for someone trying to process information that could fundamentally alter the course of their relationship. You did your best to block out all of the extra noise and focus on your goal at hand. 

Find Tashi. Send her home.

You weren’t sure what you would actually do when you saw her. Would you yell at her? Slap her for being a homewrecker? Cry at the sight of her? Laugh at the absurdity of your husband telling you that he’d been having an affair with her on your wedding night?

Peripherally, you heard someone call your name excitedly, only slightly pulling you out of your trance. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to acknowledge whatever excited friend or family member as your eyes set on your target. Tashi Duncan, Patrick’s coworker and ex-girlfriend.

Where you admired her beauty and confidence just a day before, you found you now resented every positive aspect about her. As she stood by a table and talked to one of Patrick’s sisters, surely bored out of her mind by the delusional ramblings about his sister someday being the president, she nodded and smiled diplomatically. 

As you really began to think about it, you realized that she was the perfect candidate to be Patrick’s wife. She came from a background similar to his, his sisters liked her far more than they liked you—though that didn’t mean much—and physically, she seemed to be exactly your husband’s type. 

Part of you wondered if she was feeling as miserable as you were; if she’d spent the day imagining your wedding to be her own, if her own jealousy was blinding her the way that yours currently was blinding you, or if she’d begged Patrick not to marry you during their work meeting the previous night. The other part of you wondered if she thought of you as pathetic as you currently felt—a stupid woman so blinded by her own love that she overlooked every beaming, bright red flag.

Your pace quickened as you walked towards Tashi, heels clicking annoyingly as they marked your pace. As you made your way to the table, you found yourself growing more anxious, the first real feeling you’d felt since Patrick shared with you the truth about his infidelity.

“Hey,” you greeted Tashi and Patrick’s sister, voice surprisingly even for how agitated you were. “Mind if I chat with Tashi?” 

“Go ahead,” Cornelia shrugged. “Let’s stay in touch?” she asked Tashi, who politely agreed and watched the other woman walk off. 

Tashi opened her mouth to speak to you, presumably to comment on something asinine about the wedding, or to make an observation about your wedding that you’d already heard a thousand times that night. If you weren’t so upset, you would make a bet with yourself on whether she’d tell you how beautiful the wedding was, or how beautiful you and your husband looked at the altar.

“Your housing for the night fell through,” you explained in a very level tone. It wasn’t the best excuse, but it was what came out of your mouth.

“Oh?” she asked, sounding more than a little skeptical, before lifting her drink to her lips. “Do you know where else I might be able to find lodging at this hour?”

“No,” you replied quickly and with ease. “Actually, it’d probably be best if you just went home now.”

“Home like…?” she trailed off and eyed you curiously. 

“Like back to New York. I’m sure you can find a flight.”

She laughed in slight disbelief. “You realize this is a work function for me, right? I have work to do.”

“I’m sure you can do that work back home,” you dismissed, not backing down. By now, it was clear that Tashi was putting together the pieces of what you knew. In fact, you could pinpoint the exact moment when it occurred to her why the two of you were having this conversation in the first place.

Maybe it was the lack of your now-husband beside you, or the barely concealed emotion on your face. Regardless of what was your biggest tell on the situation, you continued to stare her down, resenting the way her lips shifted into a small smile, as if she still had the upper hand and knew something that you didn’t. It was almost as if she found the whole ordeal to be a little amusing, which only bothered you more. 

“No need to make a scene at your wedding. I’ll be on my way.” She lifted her glass up once again to finish the drink off, but you stopped her. 

You returned intense eye contact with her as you took the stemware right out of her hands and put it to your own lips, finishing the drink in a few large gulps. Though your action was impulsive, it felt like somewhat of a necessity. You desperately needed the liquid distraction from your less-than-ideal situation, and you didn’t want to give her an excuse to linger at your party a single moment longer than she needed to. 

She continued to stare at you, her expression somewhere in the middle of being impressed and weirded out. “Alright then. Well, congratulations on the wedding.”

“Fuck off,” you spat out, turning on your heel and walking away without bothering to see if she stayed or left. 

You made your rounds around the reception, smiling and talking to your guests with a fake smile plastered on your face. The shock of Patrick’s initial confession wore off shortly after you told Tashi off, but you still couldn’t help but feel completely numb to the situation. How else were you supposed to react when you found out the love of your life was sleeping with someone else? 

You continued to man the reception on your own, occasionally scanning the room but not catching a glimpse of your husband. You wondered if he was still in your bedroom, head in his hands as he wondered if he just opened a Pandora’s box on your relationship, or if Tashi went to go find him to discuss how poorly you reacted to the information. For all you knew, the two of them could be laughing at you or having sex in your wedding bed at the same time that you attempted to pretend that everything was perfectly fine. You grew faint at the mere thought. 

Eventually, you felt a familiar hand on the small of your back, something that typically was a welcome, comforting gesture. Instead, you wanted to flinch away from his hand like it was hot. You couldn’t believe that Patrick had the nerve to touch you like everything was fine after dropping such devastating information on you. Then again, at least he wasn’t hooking up with Tashi one last time. 

Still, even under the spell of a sadness that hadn’t quite settled in yet, you leaned into his touch instinctively. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t feel as comfortable as it did a few hours ago. 

“Such a beautiful ceremony,” a family friend of Patrick’s gushed to you. “You two have something really special.”

You felt Patrick’s eyes sear into you, desperately pleading for you to look back into them and show him that everything was going to be okay. That what you had was special enough that you’d be able to move past this. Like adults, as he said to you earlier.

You weren’t so sure that you could. 

The rest of the night moved painfully slowly. Where the two of you socialized separately before his private conversation with you, he seemed to be attached to your hip now, bringing you apology offers of champagne flutes and hor d'oeuvres.

Though he pleaded with you to handle your situation like adults, you wanted to act more like a petulant child. If you had it your way, you would reject his offerings of food by tossing them onto the floor, or throw a glass of sticky alcohol in his face as if you were a Real Housewife. 

If you had it your way, Patrick wouldn’t have cheated on you in the first place, and you’d be celebrating your wedding without the baggage of uncertainty for the future of your relationship. 

As you walked through the reception, you weren’t particularly angry or sad, you just felt numb. There was a strange concession in knowing that what happened in the past already happened, and that there was no way for you to change your husband’s behavior. For a moment, you wondered if the numbness was a symptom of the shock that was Patrick’s confession, or you would feel the dull thud of nothingness for the rest of your life. 

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding as you watched the last of your guests filtered out of the venue, relieved to finally drop the façade of being a happy newlywed and to embrace the true feeling of shock that had been biting at you all night.  

Somehow managing to break away from your suddenly very clingy spouse, you wasted no time gathering an unopened bottle of wine for yourself, along with a cigarette and a lighter, which you unceremoniously exchanged with a caterer for a Venmo payment. You then headed outside to a balcony that overlooked a beautiful sprawling garden. 

You looked out on the neatly trimmed hedges and the bench where you sat with Patrick not even twenty-four hours ago and distantly thought about how perfectly the night should’ve gone. You got married at a beautiful venue, had every detail down to the positioning of napkins meticulously planned, and most importantly, were marrying someone you genuinely loved and couldn’t see yourself living without. 

It was all rather devastating now, to see how just a few words managed to ruin what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. 

You took a swig from the bottle, lamenting the fact that his affair partner had been drinking this very wine earlier that night. At the thought of Tashi, you took yet another hefty swig. 

Just as you reached for the lighter to light the cigarette you so desperately needed, Patrick burst through the doors of the balcony, slightly out of breath and sweat beading on his forehead. In between his heavy breaths, you swore you caught a sigh of relief. 

You couldn’t say that you were pleased to see him—after all, you’d escaped to the balcony to get a little time alone and to think through the night—but as you took in his dramatic entrance and disheveled appearance, it became abundantly clear to you that he’d been urgently looking for you. 

“Want some?” you asked, gesturing to the bottle. Your question was more than just an offer for a drink, but a peace treaty, offering Patrick to stay outside with you despite your more complicated feelings towards him. 

“Sure,” he agreed, still slightly out of breath. He collected himself as you passed him the bottle, locking eyes with you as he took a swig from the expensive drink. It felt like time moved a little slower as you watched his lips wrap around the opening of the bottle and the way his Adam's apple bobbed while the drink went down. 

You suddenly realized that complicated didn’t even begin to cover how you felt towards Patrick. You loved him more than anything, and you were sure that you needed him in your life—but beneath the thick layers of numbness was a reservoir of hurt, far deeper than you ever imagined you could harbor for the man. 

He passed the bottle back to you, his hands gently brushing over yours. Momentarily, you felt scandalized by the action, unsure if you should feel your cheeks heating up from the small touch or if you should flinch away from it. By the time the brief moment was over, you hadn’t done either, electing to set your gaze back over the rail instead of at your partner. 

Patrick stood silently beside you, not requesting anything more to drink or even attempting to make small talk. It seemed that he was just as aware as you were that he’d changed your entire dynamic with just a few words. You wondered if he realized just how much he’d fucked both of you by fucking someone else. 

You shivered in the cold night, your dress not providing you much coverage in the elements. If your wedding night had gone any differently, Patrick would’ve offered you his suit jacket, draping the item over your shoulders and kissing you sweetly. Then again, if the night had gone differently, you likely wouldn’t be shivering on the balcony in the first place. 

You squatted to set down the bottle on the ground and rediscovered the cigarette and lighter. Though you weren’t usually one to smoke, you desperately needed it after the shitshow that was your wedding night.  

Though you put the stick to your lips, you struggled to light the cigarette, the frigid breeze making everything slightly more difficult. It didn’t help that you hadn’t smoked since you were a teenager, giggling with your friends as you clumsily attempted and failed to light up the stick, the match pinched between your fingertips quickly burning down. The contrast between the silly memory and your far less silly reality felt jarring, to say the least.  

“Here, let me,” Patrick said softly, taking the lighter from you and cupping his hand around the tip of the cigarette. You tried not to look at him too closely as you listened to the soft clicking sound of the lighter. Though he should’ve focused on the action so he didn’t burn his finger tips or the palm of his hand blocking the wind, he didn’t seem to be able to look at anything but you. The light of the flame briefly illuminated both of your faces, momentarily giving you a better look at his sad eyes. 

You inhaled as the flame touched the tip, and turned your head to exhale the smoke, not wanting to blow it in the face of your partner or have to spend another second under the scrutiny of his intense eye contact.

Even as you looked away and into the garden below, you could feel Patrick’s eyes burning into you. You were sure that if you looked back over at him, you would see him looking particularly downtrodden, lips parted for words that were on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t quite say yet, and eyebrows drawn together in a way that only seemed to highlight the sadness in his eyes. 

Unspoken questions lingered in the air like the smoke from the cigarette dangling from your lips. Though you didn’t care for the smell, you were pretty sure you preferred the smoke to the questions. 

Finally, a quiet question was spoken into the air,  “Can I?” Patrick asked, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips. 

“Sure,” you replied noncommittally as you pulled the cigarette away from you and passed it to your husband. Electing to watch him instead of the unchanging garden, you observed as Patrick’s lips closed over the space where yours had just been, covering the hint of a lipstick stain that you’d left on it. After a long drag, he passed the cigarette back to you, his hand brushing softly over yours once more as you did so. 

This pattern continued, a heavy silence falling between the two of you as you shared the cigarette, your hands caressing the other’s softly.

“Here,” you murmured as you approached the filter. Instead of passing it back to Patrick, you brought it up to his lips, watching him intently as he breathed in the smoke. 

For a moment, all you could see was his face, illuminated by the burning end of the cigarette, pupils blown with something you couldn’t quite place. You weren’t sure if you wanted to ravish him right there on the balcony or push him off of it.

He blew the smoke right back into your face, electing to still share the last of the cigarette with you. You wondered if that meant anything. It probably didn’t. 

The two of you stood looking at each other, staring wordlessly as you waited for the other person to move a muscle or say something—anything. For a moment, you considered telling Patrick that you wanted an annulment. But then again, that wasn’t exactly the truth. 

“I’m going to bed,” you broke the silence with your announcement. “I need to change out of this dress.”

You wished it were that simple. You desperately wanted to scrub the day off of you and to pinch yourself until you woke up. Surely, this couldn’t be your actual wedding night. Maybe you could wake up in the morning and find that this was all a bad dream—the manifestation of anxiety before your big day.

But, as Patrick trailed behind you in the hallway as if you would disappear if you left his sight, you were pretty sure that this was the reality. You wouldn’t wake up and find that your husband had been loyal to you. 

Your return to the room was a silent one. The moment you stepped foot through the door, it felt like you were back in that horrible moment; like Patrick was moments from revealing to you that Tashi was the tip of the iceberg. 

Bile rose in your throat once more. You made a beeline to the bathroom, hoping that the change of scenery might halt your thoughts altogether. 

You stepped out of the bathroom with an entirely different mindset than what you had as you entered. Sure, your wedding night wasn’t at all what you expected it to be, but it didn’t mean that you couldn’t put it back on the right track. In the bathroom, you slipped on a silky nightie, what you hoped would be a reminder to both of you that this wasn’t any old regular night, but your wedding night. Though, with the day you just had, you weren’t so sure that either of you would be up for a particularly romantic night. You guessed it couldn’t hurt. 

You left the bathroom as a woman on a mission, your eyes set on Patrick as you crossed the bedroom floor to get to him. Though he’d been laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling like it had the secrets to the universe written on it, the sound of your entrance drew his attention over to you. You gently bit your lower lip and hoped that your face said ‘sexy’ rather than ‘so nervous you might be sick.’

His eyes stayed locked on you as you crawled into bed, and you hoped once more that the action of you moving towards him on your hands and knees didn’t appear as desperate as you felt on the inside. 

It felt like your evening consisted of one desperate plea after another: Please don’t do this to me. Please just pretend that everything’s fine. Please don’t leave me. 

He followed your lead as you trailed your hand up his arm and looked at him as seductively as you could manage before pushing him down onto the bed and straddling his lap. Distantly, you wondered how Tashi imitated things with him—if she did anything that Patrick liked more about her than you. You did your best to push that thought away, but failed miserably. 

Mechanically, you ran your hands through his hair and kissed him passionately. You tried to ignore the lump in your throat and reminded yourself that it was just Patrick. Things weren’t all that different, except for the fact that he was your husband now—and that he cheated on you.

You tried once more to push that thought out of your mind as you moved your hips against his lap, but your attempts were in vain. It certainly didn’t help that as you kissed him, you tasted the cigarette you shared earlier in his breath—an unwelcome reminder of the awkward tension that lingered between the two of you after he shared the truth about his infidelity. And surely, it was just your mind, but his lips almost tasted like the chapstick of another woman. 

Suddenly, all you could think about was Tashi with your husband. Him and Tashi in your bedroom, or in a hotel room, or on your couch. Did she do anything special that drove him crazy? What did she have that you didn’t? 

Your body said one thing, but your brain said something completely different. You did your best to power through the thoughts of your husband being with another woman, but you were beginning to realize that when it came to cheating, you weren’t all that tough. You bit down on Patrick’s lip in what you hoped would be a light nibble, but the taste of iron quickly filled your mouth. 

You slowed down your movements as your thoughts sped up before you gave up entirely. You supposed it was a classic case of mind over matter, and your mind was not nearly as strong as any of your physical urges. 

You shifted off of Patrick far later than you should’ve, feeling like a complete and utter failure. You couldn’t even do the one thing you should’ve been able to do during your wedding night. No wonder he found solace in someone else’s body. 

“I’m sorry,” you said weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

It took you rolling off of Patrick to realize that his face was damp, eyes glossy with a thin layer of tears threatening to fall. The pit in your stomach that had been steadily growing since Patrick pulled you aside to tell you something finally came to a head when you realized that your husband was crying.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked, his voice cracking on the last syllable of his question. 

A fresh tear rolled down his cheek, which was then followed by a few other droplets. He turned his head away from you and wiped them away quickly so you wouldn’t notice them, but the damage was already done. 

You’d never seen Patrick cry before—not when you watched sad movies that left you bawling, not when the two of you watched advertisements for puppies in shelters, not even when he thought his dad might be dying. To see him shed tears over you felt particularly unsettling. 

“Patrick?” you said his name softly, like he was delicate and going to break. 

“I should be the one who’s sorry,” he looked towards you once more, eyes now rimmed with red. “I ruined everything already. I'm so sorry.”

This was a complete wild card on top of a stack of wild cards. If someone told you that your wedding night would end with your husband telling you he cheated on you, a pathetic failed attempt at sex, then watching your partner cry for the first time in front of you, you would’ve laughed in their face. 

His crying continued, becoming slightly more intense as sorrow racked through his body. You’d never been in a situation like this before, so you were completely unsure of what to do. 

With all prior restraint to show him physical affection gone, you awkwardly slotted your arms around your husband. He automatically leaned into you, burying his face in your shoulder as he continued to shed quiet tears. Your shoulder quickly grew damp as you threaded your fingers through his curls, the repetitive petting being just as soothing for you as it was for him. 

Despite it all, you still felt a general sense of nothing at all. You were beginning to grow concerned, knowing that deep down there were certainly emotions that weren’t ready to approach the surface. You worried about what it might look like once those feelings finally came out, but that was the least of your worries when it came to your weeping husband. 

Patrick continued to cry quietly, the only sound in the room being his soft, occasional sniffles. You couldn’t even place how you felt or how long you sat there stone faced as you cradled your husband. 

Eventually, the tears on your shoulder dried and the intervals between sniffles grew further and further. Soon, the soft sounds of weeping turned into the long and deep breaths of rest. Between you playing with his hair and holding him, he must’ve fallen asleep. You couldn’t really blame him—given your eventful day, your all-nighter the previous day, and the energy it took for him to cry. 

You gently laid Patrick back down on his side of the bed, pulling a blanket over his chest and pushing back the hair on his forehead to press a kiss to him. He stirred slightly against the forehead kiss, but didn’t seem to wake up all the way. Even when your feelings were complicated towards the man, you couldn’t help being affectionate towards him. In some ways, you felt like you needed that affection just as much as he did. 

You let out a long sigh as the reality of everything truly began to set in, and you no longer had to be strong for your weeping partner. You couldn’t wrap your head around the sight of Patrick crying for the first time, or the fact that he cheated on you. You flicked off the bedside lamp, the only source of light in your otherwise darkened bedroom. 

You rolled over in bed and laid on your back, setting your hands on your stomach and staring up at the ceiling. You traced your eyes over the pattern of the ceiling, though it was dark and not all that clear. You wondered if you looked at it long enough, if you’d be able to make some sense out of it. You glanced over at Patrick and wondered the same thing. 

You just couldn’t understand why he’d cheat on you. You’d always been under the impression that he was just as happy in your relationship as you were. Despite his promiscuous past, he never seemed like the type of person to not be loyal to you.

You noticed a teardrop trail down his cheek in his sleep, and you gently thumbed it away. The small movement turned into you tracing a line down his nose and over his lips, then over his eyebrows and back down through the few freckles that dotted his face. Maybe if you watched him long enough, if you learned every detail of his face, someone would reveal to you why he’d done something so illogical and cruel. 

You worried about how the two of you could move forward from something like this. Though Patrick always approached the topic of infidelity with a dismissive attitude, cheating had always been a deal breaker for you in your past relationships. It shattered your trust in a way that was so foundational, you couldn’t fathom a world where your relationship with Patrick stayed exactly the same after this. 

Part of you knew already that moving forward, you’d constantly wonder if he was genuinely working late or if he was having an affair, or if his eye was wandering at events despite you standing by his side. And that was just trust when it came to relationships—obviously his lie was far deeper than just that. Now, you knew that Patrick had the capacity to hold a secret that massive from you, then share it at the worst possible time. 

In fact, his timing felt so terrible that you momentarily wondered if it was some sort of power play. Was Patrick trying to remind you that you weren’t equals in this partnership? Was he trying to manipulate you by only sharing this information to you after you were married to him and couldn’t easily call everything off? 

Your stomach turned at the possibility that Patrick wasn’t really who he said he was, and that you’d been baited and switched. You recalled the first time you met Patrick’s family, how he switched on a dime and became far more calculated and cruel to them than you’d ever seen him be with you. Was that the realest version of your husband, and the person he was with you just a façade? Was this some sort of long game he was playing with his family to piss a few people off? Did Patrick even love you?  

For the first time in your relationship, you felt like you didn’t know who you were sleeping next to. Surely, this couldn’t be the same Patrick who you set out to have a quick hook up with, and ended up talking to him for hours. It couldn’t be the same Patrick who held you tight at night and gave you kisses every morning in your kitchen. The same Patrick from your vows a few hours ago, whose hands shook as he read from notecards and declared his love for you.

You frowned as you looked over Patrick once more. You resented how he was able to sleep so peacefully after inflicting such hurt on you. Did he even understand how destroyed you were? You couldn’t see yourself sleeping through the night in the foreseeable future, your head too filled with questions about your relationship and questions about his relationship with her. Would they continue the affair? Would they still work together after this, leaving you to wonder for the rest of your life if they were still going behind your back?

You desperately wished the thoughts would stop, but they kept coming, punctuated by the sounds of Patrick’s soft snores behind you. 

By the time the sun began to peek through the blinds, your hand was on Patrick’s face once again. You wondered how it was possible for him to hurt someone he loved as much as he loved you, if his definition of love was so skewed by a lifetime of abuse labeled as love from his parents, and siblings who used cruelty as a form of affection. 

Maybe you should’ve listened to the warnings everyone gave you, from your parents who warned that your husband and his family may be more than you bargained for, from his sisters who never seemed to be able to fully wrap their head around Patrick committing to someone, let alone you. Maybe you should’ve even listened to Tashi’s coded warning about his inability to commit and stay loyal. It seemed like everyone saw the fate of your relationship coming except you. 

With the early morning light illuminating the room, things felt a little clearer for you. Beneath the numbness that protected you the previous night was a more painful undercurrent of hurt that was already beginning to eat away at you. 

For the past several years of your life, you hadn’t had to deal with any painful feelings on your own. Patrick was always there beside you to hold you tight and reassure you that everything would be okay. As you laid next to him, you realized that despite all the pain he’d inflicted on you, all you really wanted was to be held by him. 

Knowing that he was sleeping peacefully beside you, you opted to hold him, draping your body over his and pulling yourself as close as you could manage to him. You leaned your ear against his back, taking in the warmth he gave you and listening to his heart beat. As the two of your breaths and heartbeats began to match the other’s pace, you lamented that even now, your hearts beat as one. 

For the first time that evening, your eye prickled with the threat of tears. 

You lost track of how long you held your husband, but it was long enough to notice the pattern of his breath changing. You’d woken up beside him enough times to recognize that he was clearly awake, yet he made no other indication to you that he was awake. He wanted you to hold him. You wondered if he thought this might be the last time you ever do that for him. You wondered if it was the last time you’d ever do that for him. 

The two of you pretended to be asleep despite the fact that you were both obviously awake, but no one commented on anything. After your arms began to grow numb, you turned your back to Patrick, hoping that he would return the favor and give you what you really wanted. You were pleased to find that he just as eagerly wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and breathing quietly in your ear. 

The two of you sat in complete silence, pretending you didn’t know what the other person was doing. Somehow, it felt like that was about to become a recurring theme in your relationship.

[theeternalwombtarot]

What you need to work on right now to change your life:

message: In the energy of change and transformation brought upon us by the fall season I thought I would touch on this by providing a reading to further self introspection and growth. A theme in my life right now is drastic change and growing further into my higher self and that meant for me leaving behind and releasing everything I’d ever known, loved and cared for if it was not right for me to prepare for the blessings, change and manifestations I was praying for. Even still there are instances where me pausing to reflect before I make a choice is incredibly necessary and I don’t think I’m the only one within this collective that is undergoing change and transformation or needs the tools and guidance to make different choices that will put them on the path of enlightenment after walking upon one math their entire lives or for years long karmic cycles that are ready to close out and be done for. 🤎.

note: if you're pile one or pile two, check both piles one and two, there may be messages for you in both.

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pile one:

what you need to work on:

it seems like you've reached a level in your life that's going to require you to not only become clear on what you want and make some important decisions but that requires you to enact change through action and behavior. And there's a lot here, there's a lot of planning that's going into this energy, a lot of making hard choices, cutting losses, or committing to a new version of yourself and a new lifestyle that you've never had before. a lot of you are in this space in your life where you're essentially having to decide and come to terms with wanting more for yourself and separating yourself from others who don't want more for you or who can't provide you with more or who simply are living their lives in a way that doesn't resonate with who you are and what you want out of this life.

I think it's even deeper than separating yourselves from those people on a physical level but also like on a spiritual and contextual level like acknowledging that there is more for you to have and you are not meant to be like everyone else in the sense that you do what everyone else does, settle for what everyone else settles for, etc. and that's not to say that THEY are settling because there comes a point in time where you also have to acknowledge that there are people you're setting yourself apart from who are meant to live their lives a certain way and that is there life to have and to be content with and it has nothing to do with you because you don't belong in their reality sharing the same lifestyle as them.

there are a lot of people on this earthly plane who still have various lifetimes left to live and plenty of lessons to learn and paths to embark on and that's just not you. the second you allow yourself to be different from other people, step into this role of leadership or be different to lead the masses you will unlock something within yourself and the power you need to move forward gracefully and at your fullest strength. you are not meant to work the 9-5 you keep trying to force yourself to have to assimilate, you are not meant to be doing average things, walking around like normal people, you're not meant to be in mediocre relationships with dysfunctional people you have to fight for your whole life, etc. I think there's also a fear of being seen and a fear of rejection that's coming from this pile that stems from an inner child wound.

You fear changing directions or branching out and standing on your own and it not working out or people looking at you sideways for investing in and working at what you're trying to make happen. I'm seeing imagery of like lines of people walking along the same path, bunched together and moving in sync going in all the same direction and you running out of that line and off of that pathway and running off into the distance to go be somewhere else, to go find something more for yourself and all of these people being completely confused and unsure what you're doing or what is going through your mind to convince you to depart from the group and go where you wanted to go and not wherever they're headed to if they even know where that is.

I feel like what you need to work on is remedying this thing within yourself that holds you in a state of fear and a place where you're out of alignment with what needs to be done and what's meant for you to be doing in this lifetime. There's this energy of misalignment or like disharmony or internal warfare I'm picking up on that has to do with not only fear of rejection but a lack of self-love and self-worth. How valuable you think YOU are is going to dictate how you move and how much you trust yourself to branch out and honor yourself no matter what that is. I just got a message here about some of you becoming in alignment with a member or some members of your soul family, there may be a friend of yours or a loved one whose in this pile who you're now vibrating on the same frequency with, someone you may have looked up to or seen as someone higher than you or they felt this way about you. You need to take a moment to turn inwards and look at how you feel, assess what you want to do, assess where you want to go, assess what you want and if that means you have to separate yourself from the masses to do that so that you can be in your power decide if you are willing and able to change your life.

Also like assess what type of people you spend your time around and really look at those people, I hate to sort of lead you into the energy of judgment or something like that but maybe make a list of your friends and family members and write down next to their names what types of energy they give you or what about them you've noticed or what types of things you feel like you put up with when it comes to them and how that makes you feel and affects your life, some of you could really benefit from sitting down and writing it all down so that you can think it completely through and stop trying to do mental math regarding what you're considering. It's time for you to sit down and release all the inner turmoil you're carrying within you, your deep-seated fears, your secrets, all your worries. I feel like a handful of you have been doing the inner work for years or have attempted to do the inner work to solve and release these things but it didn't work out or the issues didn't completely resolve itself but I think time is on your side and things are in your favor to succeed in what you're trying to release so that you can move on and have a good life. live a good life.

guidance:

turn inwards and focus on your personal setbacks and honor yourself by taking the time to work through them. forgive yourself for not seeing your mistakes sooner and for holding yourself back in the ways you have and prepare to move on. if you've had a hard time letting go of or moving on from anything lately it's because of the connection lower vibrational or afraid versions of yourself are carrying to those things. once you work through those things and forgive yourself you will move on. some of you are going through your spiritual awakening or your dark night of the soul. embrace that things are changing if you're new to this, follow this change to your salvation.

get your priorities in order, learn how to manage your time, create a schedule or a routine for yourself, etc. you need to hunker down and focus on your path forward and your work both your inner work and your physical work whatever that may be. invest in yourself, bet on yourself, believe in yourself!!

practice some discipline in your life and this time do it for the right reasons, some of you may have a hard time committing to things or staying committed to things you've been working on for a long time due to the mindset you have towards whatever you're working on or whatever you're doing. figure out what the issue is in your mindset and change it so that you can reach goals and do things for yourself that will better you and your life in the long run.

put some respect on your ideas, and your potential to succeed. You severely underestimate how much power you have or how much you could achieve or have if you would just honor yourself and respect yourself. Also, honor and prioritize growth and progress forward in your life. do whatever you're going to do next for your progression forward, to get where you're going, to accomplish what you want, to make yourself happy, and support yourself and your ability to have accolades.

be patient and be gentle with yourself, the reason you feel intimidated by things that overwhelm you or feel challenging and difficult is because you won't allow yourself to move at your own pace or for your success to be defined by you instead of other people. You're struggling because you're still thinking from the same school of thought that the masses use that says that you need other people to validate your success or tell you that you're moving in the right direction or doing things correctly. remember your purpose or what you're working for or what you're fighting for and if that doesn't have anything to do with living for other people you need to reestablish how you're working towards it and how much of your actions and behaviors is to please or impress others or whatever.

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pile two:

what you need to work on: it seems like for you pile two the starting objective is that of letting go of and releasing pain or getting ready to move on from something, some experiences you've lived through, a lifestyle, or I even want to say an upbringing for some of you. There was a way that things were for you in your early life that really affected you, maybe your self-esteem, maybe your behavior (the way you communicated or the way you interacted with others), etc. Only you know your story or what you've been through but now there comes a time where you've got all these untapped talents or these untapped energetic gifts if it is even something of such large importance, it may even be a new way of living or carrying yourself that opens you up to more abundance or allows you to exist in a higher timeline through the change you're making.

Just like how we have to change our behavior and/or our mindsets to be able to maintain the lives and realities we've manifested for ourselves that are different, separate from, and better than what we've come from or experienced in the past where our old ways of thinking and behaviors may have been okay, may have been necessary to protect ourselves or may have been things we grew accustomed to. It's time to tap into that energy or work on our behaviors, our mindsets, etc. so that we can have and maintain the things that make us happy.

Even if it's things that don't pertain to other people which could be the case for a large amount of you this could be like deep-seated fears or insecurities that impair the way we view ourselves and then how we behave, or self-limiting beliefs that impair the way we show up in the world or what opportunities we allow ourselves to come into or have. for others of you, it could be behaviors that do have to do with other people, how we respond when we're frustrated, our projections, or how we treat people around us when we feel afraid of being hurt or when we feel we're in a vulnerable position, etc.

spirit wants you to work on turning inwards so that you can take some time out to tend to your healing but also tend to how it is you're feeling about your life right now or about your physical world, you could be feeling tired, burnt out, having a hard time sleeping or feeling restless, you could also be having a hard time focusing on responsibilities and on what you need to be doing right now. This is another thing you need to work on, listening to your body and turning inwards for alignment and making sure that you're okay.

there's also a need for you to focus on love right now and your romantic relationships and invest in those or someone in your energy right now that you've been pouring into, your love for them will increase even further despite you probably thinking it can't and your relationship with them will drastically improve through your self love journey but also through your focus and investment in them.

You also need to work with and focus on the sudden changes that have been going on in your life and for some of you some spiritual awakenings, there's a large amount of power that has gone untapped within you there's more for you to find on your spiritual journey.

guidance:

please invest in this love connection or whatever this is in the realm of love within your life pile two, you've got the ten of cups here symbolizing divine love, soulmates, potentially even marriage, children, etc!!

work heavily on your self-compassion, self-concept, and those internal and deep-seated emotions we talked about so they stop hindering your progression forward pile two especially those feelings and behaviors that create blockages in your relationships due to dysfunctional behavior and those that even create more issues for yourself in your day to day life in terms of the way you behave and carry yourself while facing tension and issues in your outside world.

assess areas in your life where you're holding back from taking risks or holding onto fear in your life, we already talked about deep seated fears or self limiting beliefs but spirit thinks it's important that you become clear on what it is specifically that you're holding yourself back from.

work on preparing for your personal transition forward by wrapping up unfinished business, putting to rest all those bad schools of thought, leaving your past behind you by releasing all those dysfunctional behaviors, investing in things that mean something to you within this new life, etc. to change your life requires changes in behavior, changes in your mind, changes in your habits and ways of living that is attached to an old life or old reality.

be careful that your self protection or your behaviors and tendencies to avoid getting hurt don't become greedy and hurt other people who haven't done anything to you pile two, this is really important don't block your blessings because you're afraid of losing them.

****

pile three:

what you need to work on:

Pile three... ugh my poor pile three's lol, I feel like Pile three in my readings is always the last part of the collective and there's a large amount of you that aren't yet awake or aren't yet completely aware of what's going on and what needs to be done in your lives. Some of you are sort of still in that energy of living your life in a way that doesn't have much room for introspection or pausing to come to an understanding about your hardships and why your life is the way that it is. Some of you could even have a hard time with spiritual thinking or have a hard time believing in tarot readings, divination, and all these things and I think that's completely fine as it takes everyone a while to come to a point of adjusting to the idea that there's more to the world than just the physical. The first card in your spread pile three is the nine of wands upright, to me in your reading today this nine of wands sort of gives me the energy of entering or undergoing spiritual awakening and a connection with the divine or with the spiritual realms and doing the inner work or practicing the mindfulness to bring you further in your life. There's real power in this pile and this collective that I feel like has gone untapped for a very long time due to conditioning, lifestyle choices, and for some of you maybe just the person you've grown up to be and how you view and see the world to make sense to you like I get the energy of like cognitive dissonance here or trying to avoid cognitive dissonance and opening up doors of learning or understanding of the spiritual realm to avoid your world view being turned upside down or becoming more complicated than you feel like you can handle.

But I think what many of you don't realize is that this disconnection to the spiritual realm is what's creating this empty like void you may be carrying or this feeling of dissatisfaction or lack of fulfillment in your lives. some of you guys exist primarily in the physical and material world and neglect your internal life or your spiritual lives and this is affecting you and eating away at you, what you don't realize is that you need to come to a conclusion and acknowledge this energy that's sitting within you so that you can create solutions, you guys are solution based people or have very heavy masculine energy, some of you could be men actually. A good handful of you are earth signs or earth-side dominant and disconnected from ancestors, familial roots, ties, and practice. There is more for you to have within this lifetime, I think you guys are waking up every day without purpose or without a final destination or something to liven and awaken the spirit as you walk around in your waking life. I just heard "this is no life" too, some of you are coming to realize that something is missing or that you're craving more although it may feel like or seem like you've been very fortunate in all that you've received. Some of you who are masculine energies or are men are living outside of your divine masculine energy and there is a high priestess or some sort of spiritualist around you who see's your light and has told you so or has told you something that reveals that she/he "see's" you or see's something in you.

this could be someone you may be attracted to romantically or physically who won't have you because you're missing what they need, that's very specific but it'll resonate for some of you. I think there's a real need for you to work on seeing yourself truly from an authentic place so that you can be the person or the figure that you sort of see yourself as or envision yourself as some of you are unfamiliar with the term "higher self" as well and you may need to look into that deeper, the term "higher self" is what's defined as the most conscious, most enlightened and most divine version of yourself, this is the version of you that exists outside of the ego, outside of fears, outside of limited ways of thinking and an unawakened version of ourselves that we've been carrying along with us after all our conditioning, our hardship, and our lifetime karma. this is the version of ourselves that is not only living but thriving. there's this imagery I see of someone in a meditative state and becoming more consciously aware and more awakened as they rest. Rest for the body is a means of rejuvenation and growth. This is when the body has permission to shut itself down and repair, it kind of reminds me of the scene in the avatar where they all go to bed at night and are wrapped up in this cocoon-like hammock.

I think you're in a sort of transformative state, you may feel like you're on auto-pilot or like you're sort of powering through your waking life half awake, you may feel more if not completely uninterested in your physical life and it's responsibilities or chronically unsatisfied and restless. You need to work on reconciling with your inner self and inner wisdom and returning home to yourself so that you can learn how to live an awakened experience and a fulfilling life.

guidance:

reprioritize your life or sit with yourself and decide if the direction you're going in serves you or is fulfilling to you and gives you what you want and need within this lifetime. I think a lot of you are living your life simply because you did not have a choice and you happen to just be here but I think there's significance in you finding out what your purpose is within this lifetime. Think about and consider what's most important to you, what aspects of yourself and your life you're neglecting, think about and begin to prioritize your inner world and your spirituality, and live in both the emotional/spiritual realm and the material/physical.

take a moment to think about what you want to do with your life and if what you're doing is what you truly desire, even career-wise. Is there a bigger dream of yours? what do you want to do? what do you want to contribute to the planet before you die? kind of morbid I apologize but seriously. invest your time in self-discovery and when you find out what that is make some important decisions and create a plan for yourself. there is something in your life that works for you but doesn't make you happy or make you feel fulfilled and whole.

embark on your spiritual journey or open up your mind and spirit to the possibility that there's more than meets the eye in the world you're living in, that you have a purpose, that things are happening for you and not to you, that you carry within you, divinity.

release all things that are no longer serving you, that bring you unnecessary stress, etc. you are seeing the world from a very tiny lens and there's more for you in this life than working yourself to death or enduring things "just like everyone else" because that's "just what you do."