#luxury candle jars

[sunnyglassware]

Bauhaus Plaid line of high-end gift box

[studiolevez]

Scented candle with Forget Me Nots design by StudioLevez. Available for purchase on Etsy. https://studiolevez.etsy.com/listing/1783748017

[alokkumarmaeva]

The Maeva Store offers Fresh Linen Scented Candle Online at low price.

The Maeva Store offers a Fresh Linen Scented Candle for online purchase. In a frosted glass candle jar, experience the fresh aroma of newly laundered clothes. Ideal for creating a cool atmosphere at home.

[himalayantrading]

Himalayan Trading Post

Our hand-poured Himalayan soy candles are more than just a product; they are a sensory journey. Each candle is meticulously made with high-quality soy wax and infused with natural extracts to create a fragrant blend that stirs up nostalgia. These handcrafted candles come in an assortment of fragrances, ranging from floral to citrus, each crafted to create warmth and calmness to any setting. Whether you're in need of a custom gift or simply want to treat yourself, our range of candles offers something for everyone.

From the relaxing aroma of bourbon and vanilla and leather and tobacco, to the uplifting scent of grapefruit and pine, there's a wide array of choices. Each candle is meticulously made in small quantities, making them unique pieces that will elevate any interior. The gentle light produced by these handcrafted candles creates an welcoming environment great for celebrations, holidays, or daily relaxation.

[thecupidwitch]

Candle Color Meaning

🖤Black: protection, binding, banishing negativity, grief, secrets, endings, loss, cursing and hexing magick

🩶Grey: stability, concentration, neutrality, reserve, balance, adaptability, flexibility

🤍White: all propose color, cleansing and uncrossing, healing, purification, spirituality, higher-self, innocence, illumination, balancing, hope, protection, new beginning, peace, harmony

❤Red: love, seduction, passion, anger, strength, courage, charisma, survival, change, power, curse work, lust, sex magick

🩷Pink: self-love, companionship, affection, spiritual healing, kindness, beauty, femininity, marriage, sensuality, children, healing abuse

🧡Orange: business, creativity, justice, ambition, opportunity, attraction, abundance, confidence, energy, celebration, goals, success

💙Blue: peace, communication, expression, forgiveness, traveling, protection, truth, sleep, patience, trust, pregnancy

💛Yellow: joy, abundance, intelligence, reason, learning, memory, inspiration, imagination, friendships, sun magick

💚Green: growth, wealth, fertility, business, healing, nature, balance, luck, longevity

💜Purple: intuition, decadence, authority, wisdom, knowledge, influence, psychic abilities, devotion, enlightenment, overcoming fears, addiction, independence, spirituality

🤎Brown: earth magick, home, animal magick, family, stability, endurance, grounding, solidarity, strength, hard work

♡Gold: wealth, inner-strength, self-realization, sun, masculinity, abundance, happiness, overcoming addiction, luxury

♡Silver: intelligence, memory, moon magick, divination, money, femininity, fertility, hidden potential, success, awareness, wisdom, psychic powers

keep in mind that different cultures have different meanings for each colors. Use what correspondences fit you and your craft!

tip jar

[momospetdog]

Bubbly Baths

Minatozaki Sana x F!Reader

warnings: fluff

a/n: GIRL I HONESTLY DONT KNOW WHAT TO FEEL ABOUT THIS 😢 js felt lonely while taking a bath.. been also thinkijg about sana lately sooooooooo

It was Friday night, and you were beyond exhausted. The week had dragged on with endless tasks and meetings, leaving you craving nothing more than to collapse into bed. And that’s exactly what you did the moment you stepped through the door. You didn’t even bother changing out of your work clothes. You just flopped onto the bed face-first, burying yourself into the soft blankets. Your eyes fluttered closed, the tension of the day slipping away as you drifted in and out of a light sleep.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of the door creaking open, followed by light footsteps. You didn’t even need to look to know it was Sana. The scent of her perfume—a soft blend of florals and something sweet—was enough to confirm her presence. She had come home from work too, no doubt just as tired as you.

“Darling,” Sana called gently, her voice soft and melodic, as she knelt beside the bed. Her hand rested on your back, fingers tracing lazy circles that sent tingles up your spine. “You’re already half asleep”

You let out a quiet hum, too tired to respond with actual words. Your eyes remained closed, but you felt the warmth of her touch, a soothing balm after a long day.

Sana chuckled softly. “Come on, sweet girl. You can’t just sleep in your work clothes like this. I’ve got a better idea”

Before you could respond, Sana leaned closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Let’s take a bath together. I’ll get everything ready. You just relax”

You nodded sleepily, too tired to muster any words as Sana kissed your forehead softly before heading to the bathroom. You could hear the sound of running water a moment later, followed by the soft clinks of bottles and jars as she prepared the bath.

You lay there, half-drifting, as the familiar scents of lavender, eucalyptus, and vanilla started to waft into the bedroom. Sana always knew how to create the perfect relaxing atmosphere. The bath bombs she loved were her secret weapon after a long day—small pastel spheres that fizzed and crackled as they dissolved, releasing fragrant oils that softened your skin and calmed your mind.

You could hear her humming a soft tune, the sound barely audible over the gurgle of the tub filling up. It made you smile despite your exhaustion. Even after a long day at work, Sana always had a way of making everything feel better. She moved about the bathroom with ease, pulling out a few scrubs—her favorites, no doubt—the ones with brown sugar and honey, the ones that left your skin feeling velvety soft and delicately scented.

The gentle fizz of the bath bomb as it hit the water filled the air, and you could imagine the colors swirling together, turning the bath into a soothing canvas of soft purples and blues. The combination of fragrances began to take over the room completely, creating an oasis of calm.

Sana was always meticulous with her preparations. She arranged a few candles along the edge of the tub, their warm glow casting gentle flickers of light against the tiled walls. She took her time, adjusting the flame until everything was just right. It wasn’t rushed; it was done with care, with intention.

You could picture her carefully smoothing out the towels she had placed by the tub, making sure everything was perfect for the both of you. Her attention to detail was one of the things you loved most about her—how even the smallest act, like running a bath, became something special when she did it. She made everything feel like a luxury, like you were being pampered in the most tender way.

After a few minutes, she called out softly, “Alright, everything’s ready”

You felt her hand gently pull you up from the bed, her touch warm and soft against your skin. She guided you toward the bathroom, the light dim and the flicker of candles creating a soothing ambiance. The sight of the bath was even more inviting than you had imagined—softly bubbling water, a gentle mist rising from the surface, and the soft glow of candles reflecting off the tiles.

Sana smiled at you, her eyes twinkling as she reached for the hem of your shirt. “Let’s get you out of these clothes,” she whispered, her voice low and tender. You nodded, too tired to do much on your own, and let her help you undress, her fingers delicate as they worked at the buttons of your shirt.

Once you were out of your clothes, Sana quickly shed hers too, her smile playful as she took your hand and led you to the tub. She stepped in first, sinking into the warm water with a contented sigh, her body immediately relaxing into the comforting heat. She held out her hand for you to follow, and you stepped in slowly, the warmth of the bath enveloping you, soothing your aching muscles and melting away the last of your tension.

The water was the perfect temperature, the faint fizz of the bath bomb still lingering, and the soft scent of lavender and eucalyptus wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. You settled into the tub across from Sana, your legs gently brushing against hers beneath the water. She reached out, her fingers grazing your arm lightly as she smiled at you, her eyes filled with warmth.

“Feel better?” she asked, her voice soft and filled with affection.

You nodded, sinking deeper into the water, letting the warmth and her presence soothe you entirely. “Much better”

As you settled into the warm, fragrant water, you faced each other, knees brushing occasionally beneath the surface. The soft candlelight flickered gently around the bathroom, casting warm shadows across the tiles. Sana leaned back against the edge of the tub, her eyes half-closed in relaxation, her fingers lazily swirling through the water.

You mirrored her actions, feeling the stress of the week slowly fade away. The water was warm, its soothing embrace calming your tense muscles, while the soft scent of lavender and eucalyptus filled the room, creating the perfect atmosphere for unwinding.

Sana opened her eyes, gazing at you with that familiar, affectionate smile that always seemed to melt away your worries. She flicked a few droplets of water at you playfully, chuckling as you blinked in surprise.

As you sank deeper into the warm water, you let out a soft, contented sigh, feeling the weight of the day start to slip away. You and Sana sat across from each other, your legs gently brushing under the surface as the calming scent of lavender and eucalyptus filled the room. The flicker of candlelight danced on the walls, casting a soft glow around the bathroom.

Sana leaned back, her fingers tracing circles on the surface of the water, watching the ripples as they spread between the two of you. After a moment of comfortable silence, she looked up at you, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. “Do you ever think about where we’ll be in a few years?”

Her question caught you off guard in the best way, the sweetness of it pulling at your heartstrings. “What do you mean?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

Sana smiled softly, her gaze warm as she met your eyes. “I mean… us. Our lives. Do you think about what it’ll be like? Where we’ll go, what we’ll do… together?”

You felt a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, but the thought of a future with her was something that always filled you with a quiet joy. “All the time,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I think about it a lot, actually”

Sana’s smile grew wider, her eyes twinkling with affection. “And? What does that future look like, baby?”

You paused for a moment, thinking carefully, before speaking softly. “It’s us in a cozy little house. Maybe we have a garden—something simple, with flowers and a few vegetables. We wake up every morning to sunlight streaming through the windows, and we make breakfast together. You always make coffee,” you teased, a soft laugh escaping your lips, “because I’m terrible at it”

Sana giggled, splashing the water playfully toward you. “You’re not that bad, but I’ll take the coffee duty”

You smiled, watching her with that same tender feeling blossoming in your chest. “We have lazy Sundays where we just stay in bed, wrapped up in each other, and we spend the day talking or reading or just doing nothing. We’ll travel when we want to, but we’ll always come home to each other. I guess… it’s simple, but it’s us. And that’s enough for me, Sha”

Sana’s eyes softened, her expression turning thoughtful as she reached out to gently brush your leg under the water. “That sounds perfect,” she whispered. “I love the idea of growing old with you, of having a place that’s ours. A life that’s ours”

Her words hit you deeply, filling you with warmth. You leaned back, letting yourself sink further into the peaceful atmosphere you were creating together. “What about you, baby? What do you think about when you imagine our future?”

Sana smiled, her fingers playing with the water absentmindedly as she spoke. “I think about how happy we’ll be. I imagine us cooking dinner together, dancing in the kitchen to some cheesy song just because it makes you laugh. I think about us going on spontaneous trips to places we’ve never been, but no matter where we are, it feels like home because we’re with each other”

You felt a soft flutter in your chest at the tenderness of her words. “You always know how to say the sweetest things,” you whispered, smiling at her.

Sana shrugged playfully, though her eyes were filled with sincerity. “I mean every word, darling. I love thinking about our future. I love that it feels so real, so possible” She leaned forward slightly, brushing her hand through the water toward you, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. “You make everything feel more beautiful. I know that whatever happens, as long as I’m with you, it’ll be more than enough”

You felt a lump form in your throat, her words settling deep into your heart. There was something so calming, so sure, about the way she spoke, and it made you feel like nothing in the world could touch the little bubble of warmth you’d created together.

You reached out to take her hand, threading your fingers through hers under the water. The silence between you was filled with unspoken love and affection, a quiet understanding that needed no words.

“I can’t wait for all of that,” you said softly, squeezing her hand gently. “But right now, I’m happy just being here. With you. In this moment”

Sana smiled, her eyes shimmering as she nodded. “Me too. Right now, this is perfect”

You both stayed like that for a while, the water cooling around you but neither of you moving to leave. It was a moment suspended in time, filled with warmth, love, and the promise of everything that was to come.

As you both continued to soak in the warmth of the bath, the water swirling gently between you, Sana shifted slightly and gave you a soft smile. “Turn around,” she murmured, her voice sweet and caring. “Let me scrub your back. You’ve had a long day”

You nodded, grateful for her offer, and slowly turned your back toward her. The heat from the water had already begun to melt away the tension in your muscles, but the thought of Sana’s gentle hands massaging your back made you feel even more at ease.

Sana reached for the scrub she had prepared earlier—the one with honey and brown sugar, your favorite. You felt the cool texture of the scrub against your skin for just a moment before her hands began to work, moving in slow, careful circles. The sensation was both soothing and invigorating, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh as she rubbed the scrub into your shoulders.

“You’re so tense,” Sana said softly, her voice filled with gentle concern. “You really need to take it easy, darling”

You laughed lightly, your head resting forward as her hands worked magic over your back. “It’s hard to take it easy when everything’s so busy all the time,” you murmured, your voice already laced with exhaustion.

Sana’s hands slowed slightly, her touch more deliberate as she massaged the scrub into your skin. “I know,” she said quietly. “But you don’t have to carry all of it by yourself, you know? I’m here. Let me take care of you”

Her words, so sincere and tender, made your heart swell with gratitude. You could feel the warmth of her love in every touch, the way her fingers glided across your skin, easing the knots that had built up over the week.

You smiled, your eyes fluttering closed as you leaned into the sensation. “You’re already doing that,” you whispered, your voice soft and barely above a murmur. “You always know how to make everything feel better”

Sana chuckled softly behind you, her hands continuing their gentle rhythm. “Well, that’s my job, isn’t it? To make sure my sweet girl is always taken care of”

As she said this, you felt yourself beginning to drift, the combination of the warmth from the bath and her soothing touch pulling you deeper into a peaceful state. Your body grew heavier, and you realized with a faint smile that you were on the verge of falling asleep.

Sana must have noticed, because her voice was softer now, almost a whisper. “You’re falling asleep on me,” she teased gently, her hands slowing as she finished scrubbing your back. “I guess that means I’m doing a good job”

You let out a sleepy chuckle, your head tilting slightly to one side as you mumbled, “You always do a good job”

There was a moment of silence, the only sounds the soft splashing of water and your steady breathing. You were so relaxed, so at ease, that the world around you faded into a pleasant blur. Sana’s presence, her care, and the gentle way she moved were all that mattered.

Before you could drift off completely, Sana leaned forward, her breath warm against your ear. “My turn,” she said with a soft laugh, her playful tone pulling you back from the brink of sleep. “I want to be pampered too”

You smiled lazily, opening your eyes just enough to turn around and face her. The water sloshed gently as you took the scrub from her hand, and Sana turned around, her back facing you now. You dipped your fingers into the scrub and began massaging it into her skin, mimicking the same tender motions she had used on you.

Her skin was soft beneath your hands, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how peaceful she looked, her head tilted slightly to one side, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the moment. It was quiet, intimate—just the two of you, sharing something simple and beautiful after a long, tiring day.

“Feel good?” you asked quietly, your hands moving gently across her shoulders.

“Mhmm,” Sana murmured, her voice barely audible as she relaxed even further. “Perfect”

You continued to scrub her back, your fingers moving slowly and carefully, not wanting the moment to end. There was something so comforting about taking care of each other like this, something that made the stress of the day feel far, far away.

As the water began to cool, you and Sana stayed nestled together, the steam still swirling gently in the air around you. The warm glow of the candles flickered softly on the walls, casting delicate shadows that danced across the room. You leaned back against the edge of the tub, your head resting comfortably, while Sana sat close, her knee brushing yours under the water, grounding you both in the moment.

Sana smiled, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the surface of the water, creating ripples that shimmered in the candlelight. “You know,” she murmured softly, “I wouldn’t mind if every night ended like this. Just you and me, relaxing, forgetting the world outside”

Her words were honey-sweet, and you couldn’t help but smile as you nodded in agreement. “I wouldn’t mind that either,” you whispered back. “It’s nice to just... be. No rush, no worries, just us”

Sana leaned her head against your shoulder, letting out a contented sigh as she closed her eyes. The soft scent of lavender still lingered in the air, mixing with the comforting warmth of her skin against yours. You both basked in the peaceful silence for a while, simply enjoying the closeness and the quiet that only seemed to come after days like this—days that felt long and chaotic, but always ended with the soft presence of one another.

Her hand found yours under the water, fingers entwining in a gentle, unspoken gesture of love. You squeezed her hand softly, a small but meaningful reminder that you were here, with her, and that was all that mattered.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper. “We should make more time for this... for us. I know life gets busy, but moments like this are my favorite”

You turned your head slightly, gazing down at her as her eyes remained closed, her face relaxed and peaceful. “Mhmm,” you hummed sodtly, brushing a thumb over her knuckles.

For a while longer, you both stayed there, the world outside forgotten, the stress of the week fading into the background. The soft sound of the water shifting as you moved, the warmth of the bath, and the tender presence of each other created a quiet haven where nothing else mattered.

Eventually, as the water grew cooler and your skin began to wrinkle, you sighed and gave Sana’s hand a gentle squeeze. “We should probably get out before we turn into prunes,” you said, your voice light with amusement.

Sana giggled softly, lifting her head from your shoulder. “But prunes are so cute,” she joked, her eyes twinkling playfully.

You smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her temple. “Not as cute as you”

Sana blushed, a soft pink coloring her cheeks as she gave you a playful nudge. “Flatterer”

With that, you both slowly got out of the tub, the cool air hitting your skin as you wrapped yourselves in soft towels. The bath had left you both feeling rejuvenated, the stress of the day long gone, replaced by a sense of warmth and connection that only came from sharing quiet, intimate moments like this.

Sana grabbed a towel for your hair, gently patting it dry with a tenderness that made your heart swell. Sana leaned in, her lips brushing against your lips in a soft, fleeting kiss. “I love you,” she whispered, the words like a gentle promise in the dim light of the bathroom.

You smiled, your heart full, and whispered back, “I love you too”

With that, you both retreated to the bedroom, still wrapped in your towels, the quiet hum of contentment lingering between you. The bath, the laughter, the closeness—it was all a reminder of how much you cherished each other, not just for the big moments, but for these small, quiet ones too.

[eatmangoesnekkid]

No matter what I always choose beauty. What comes with choosing beauty is more intention and alignment. Intentional living.

Thinking about how there is nothing more beautiful than cooking with a lover while dancing and kissing and sipping on a cocktail. If you are like me and don’t really drink, you sip when the mood feels rightfully beautiful.

No matter what I always choose beauty. Like Saidiya Hartman wrote, "beauty is not a luxury."

Beauty is nutrition.But beauty requires something more from us in exchange for its nutrients.

Beauty is not something this world gives to us and there is no guarantee that we will be ready, available, or present enough to really receive it.

Beauty is something that we have to be willing to claim, to pause and take notice of, to shut the fuck up and listen to, or to put in time and effort into feeling.

A beautiful sunset will just pass on by if you don't look up from your phone at the right time.

The effort it takes to put on a nice-fitting dress while home for no reason at all other than it feels beautiful on your skin or to take time to plate your home-cooked food in an artful way is something only you can give to yourself.

A beautiful bouquet of wildflowers brought home will be meaningless if you don't take time to contemplate and notice them.

I always choose beauty in the mess, in the ugly, in art, in meal prep, in lighting a candle, and in the shapes my female body makes.

I am on a partial road trip and packed two small ghee lamps. Even with a packed suitcase, I managed to squeeze in two brass ghee lamps, these little works of art and spirit. Ghee lighting symbolizes purity, peace and love and I light one every night in the kitchen and bedroom in lieu of artificial light and witness how the shadows dance prettily along the walls as I deepen into my night stretch.

I always choose beauty, glass jars tinctures I make by hand and take with me to spa. I could simply pack them into plastic bottles but then chemicals from the plastic would leech into the concoctions and change the molecular structure of the contents. I could just go to the store and buy whatever is available in plastic but it would lack quality. It would be easier to put the concoctions in plastic or just buy something similar instead of making them. I wouldn’t have to be extra careful to not break any bottles or have to take so much time getting ready for the spa, but I choose beauty.

Beauty is less about possession of it as conditioned and more about contemplation, awe, and wonder, witnessing natural light shine prisms through large bay windows.

One personal secret of the universe about me is that I quietly wear pink fuzzy kitten mule house shoes with a 1/2 inch maximum heel height indoors because they feel beautiful and sexy and work cutely with the shape of my body.

Beauty gives us feeling. It gives us height and it gifts us fire. It can turn us on and make us come fully alive.

Beauty can also set us free.

Because when we choose beauty, beauty naturally chooses us back.

--India Ame'ye, Author, From The Melody of Love, Opening Pages to Natural Beauty Chapter (unedited)

[mrs-nanami]

Women have many belongings. It used to vex Nanami. But it doesn’t anymore.

The first thing to migrate to his home, was your face lotion. He has a face lotion, a perfectly serviceable one, but you insisted on bringing your own. Your routine was important to you, you had told him, and Nanami understood. Routines, rules, structure – these are all things he has always respected, found meaning in. And so, in his bathroom, his drugstore razor, toothbrush, and facewash sat together, lined up like toy soldiers, right next to a luxurious indigo jar of face cream.

The rest of your routine follows shortly: the lilac bottle of mist that smells like aloe, the golden serum that smells like summertime, and the periwinkle tube of your green tea face wash. Your bergamot and sandalwood soap linger on his pillow, and when he can’t smell you on his sheets anymore, longing sits heavy and sticky in his throat.

Your clothes are next. Amidst his practical navy, gray, and blacks, appear pops of warm lilac, royal blue, and torched orange. He doesn’t mind it in the least – it would be entirely unreasonable for him to demand that you stop bringing such colorful clothes in his home, especially when he never really wants you to leave.

When the two of you finally just bite the bullet and put your name on the lease, Nanami imagines that his life will certainly become more colorful. But he doesn’t have the first idea of how many more things will be in his house.

All his life, Nanami has lived quietly, abstemiously. He is a jujutsu sorcerer – while his non-sorcerer peers were learning trigonometry, he was learning how to kill curses and how to die as a soldier dies: with resolve and bravery, to the bitterest end. His life has been fat trimmed from steak, practical solid color towels, plastic storage bins with plenty of clearing near the edge, never packed to capacity. A man who walks on the very edge of life and death doesn’t require more than the necessities. The very few things he indulges in are sensible: good whiskey, grade A rice, custom leather shoes (no broguing) built to take a beating.

You bring in your life to his, and it is completely different. You’re striped linens, fresh flowers, scented candles on every corner. Baby blue drinking glasses shaped like beer cans, artisanal ceramicware made by friends locally. Your life is marked by comfort, simple pleasure, and (dare he say it) the sweetest, most innocent frivolity. He supposes it’s really what he loves most about you, honestly. He’s always tended drawn closer to brighter, bolder personalities: earnest and warm, like Haibara and Itadori, not bombastic and irreverent, like Gojo or Tsukumo. You belong in the same shades of sunlight as Haibara and Itadori, but…tender. Like the dream-like throw of warm, rose tipped dawn that thaws the chill of his lonely apartment.

Now, in the mornings, he doesn’t wake to the desolate silence of a man alone. He wakes to the sound of your fluffy slippers in the kitchen, the smell of dark roast coffee, the sight of your toiletries sitting side by side in the bathroom, cozy and couple-like.

Somewhere between your checker print tea kettle, and the warmth of your body on the sheets, Nanami falls so in love with you that he looks back on his life and wonders how he ever lived, starved of the sun that is you, for so long.

[happy74827]

Take Me Over

[Nick Blaine x Wife!Reader]

Synopsis: In the heart of Gilead’s oppressive regime, you find yourself thrust into a marriage with Nick Blaine, a man whose silent demeanor hides a truth you’ve realized to be shared.

WC: 2189

Category: Lime/Spice, Slight Fluff {TW — Forced Marriage}

I’m back at it again with another character that no one seems to write about 🥲 (I love him your honor)

『••✎••』

The dim light of the candles flickered in the oppressive silence of the room. You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands tightly gripping the stack of letters tied together by a brown string while you contemplated what you were about to do.

It’s been a total of two days since you were placed to be a part of the household of Commander Fred and Mrs. Waterford. Two days since you were forced into a role that you were not comfortable with. Two days since a new life was placed before you.

Two days since your marriage, and now here you are, sitting on the edge of a bed, dreading the moment that the door would open and once again reveal the man who was forced to be your husband.

Nick Blaine, that was his name, and it was all that was given to you. You knew nothing about him. All you knew was that you were his wife, and he was your husband, and you both had a role to play. Though, if the letters that you currently held in your hands were anything to go by, Nick Blaine, your husband, played the role of a rebel.

Shock. It was the first thing that you felt when you discovered the stack of letters hidden behind one of the drawers in the room. Then, curiosity. What exactly were they? You were so intrigued that you couldn't help yourself. You had to find out.

You didn’t regret it.

You didn't even want to.

What you had found was something you could not believe. Something so secret and dangerous that you could not fathom. The contents of the letters, the words written upon the papers, were like a breath of fresh air.

Stories, that's what they were. Stories that you would tell in hushed whispers. Stories that were passed around. Stories of the world before Gilead.

They seemed to be all handmaids. Handmaids telling their side of the story. Brave women who would take such risks, who would defy the rules, just to let their voices be heard.

They were inspiring, and as you read through them, you realized the more dangerous these letters were, the more powerful. And the more powerful they were, the more they were needed.

It was a small act of defiance, but it was enough. It was something that could keep the flame of hope alive, and that is exactly what they needed in the current situation.

But the question still stands. What was Nick Blaine doing with them?

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel, especially now that you were aware that a man of his stature and position could risk everything for the sake of those who were fighting against Gilead.

So many things were racing in your mind, but then it hit you. The soft glow in his eyes whenever Waterford’s handmaiden was around. The way he looked at her. Sympathy and guilt. He cared for her.

The revelation was almost jarring, but you weren’t too surprised. Nick always seemed different from the others. Hell, it’s been two days, and he hasn’t touched you.

You could almost guarantee that all the other men who were promoted and newly married would have already taken their wives by now. They would’ve taken their wife that night after the ceremony. But not him. Not Nick.

You were grateful.

He had a heart, and that's all that mattered.

A knock on the door snapped you back into reality, and before you could even respond, the door was opening.

It was Nick.

For a split second, the two of you just stared at each other, his eyes moving in slow motion as they trailed from your face to the stack of letters you were holding.

Of course, as he did so, all you could do was look at him in admiration. He was always easy on the eyes before, with hair and eyes that were darker than the luxurious dark chocolate you once loved to eat before Gilead. But, knowing what you know now, everything about him was just much more attractive.

But then, a flicker of fear was shown in his eyes, and all at once, the atmosphere seemed to grow tense.

Without saying a word, Nick stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. You could visibly see a sweat drop trickling down his neck as he tried to compose himself, his eyes never leaving the letters that were clutched tightly in your hands.

"Nick." You whispered, and you could see him stiffen at the mention of his name. The poor man was terrified, and it was heartbreaking.

"How much did you read?" His voice was rough and gravelly, and the sound was music to your ears.

"Enough." You answered, and without missing a beat, you slowly stood up and began to make your way toward him. "Enough to know I can trust you."

Your response was met with a surprised look, and it was clear to you that he was not expecting that. Truthfully, you were surprised yourself.

This was all new to you. You've never spoken so freely before, and you never expected the day would come when you would have the courage to defy the rules. But today was a strange day.

"I’ve never believed in miracles," You whispered, taking a few steps forward. Your eyes were locked with his, and you could see the surprise and curiosity swirling around in his beautiful, dark brown eyes. "but you might be the closest thing to one I could get."

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you slowly walked towards him, and as the two of you were only mere inches away from each other, you raised the stack of letters and gently pushed it towards him.

"You need to do better than hiding them behind a drawer, though. I almost tripped on it when it fell out." You said, and for the first time since you had met him, you saw his lips curl up into a ghost of a smile.

"Noted."

And then the two of you lapsed into silence. A comfortable silence that was filled with the soft glow of the candle and the faint crackling sound of the fire.

That night was the night your trust was built and the beginning of a bond that would eventually bring the two of you together.

It was a couple of months later, when he returned from Canada with the Waterfords, that your relationship from close friends to lovers began.

He’d gotten the letters out. He’d finally gotten them out, and as the news of the failed union between Canada and Gilead left his lips, all you could think about was the relief and the excitement.

Your heart was overflowing with joy, and your body was filled with a sense of warmth that you had long forgotten. Nick had done it. Nick had finally done it.

As soon as he finished recounting, you rushed to embrace him. A strong grip wrapped itself around his waist, and your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

Nick, on the other hand, was stiff as a board. Even though you two were married to each other, he still felt that it was inappropriate for him to touch you in such a manner.

The thought didn’t last long, however, as you pulled away and gave him a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

Your smile was radiant. Your eyes were twinkling, and your face was glowing. For the first time in a long time, you were truly happy. And Nick didn't think that he'd ever seen anything more beautiful.

"I'm proud of you."

Your words were soft, and as you placed your hand on his chest, you could feel his heartbeat quicken beneath your palm.

His eyes were locked on yours, and he could see the emotions swirling around in your eyes.

Relief. Excitement. Happiness. Admiration.

The list could go on, but in the end, all that mattered was that he could see the love that you held for him.

And that… that look was all it took for his hands to gently grasp your shoulders and guide you backward as you told him another set of words about how he was a hero and that he was amazing.

You didn’t even realize what he was doing until your back felt the concrete wall. Once you realized you weren’t moving anymore, you paused and looked at him, and the moment you did, your breath got caught in your throat.

Nick was looking at you with an intensity that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand. His hands had moved from your shoulders to the nape of your neck, and the warmth of his skin sent a shiver down your spine.

"Nick." You whispered, watching as his thumb grazed the outline of your bottom lip. It was a simple, tender gesture, but it was enough to send butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You couldn’t get a response out, not even a single word, as you watched his eyes glance down at your lips, his own tongue darting out to lick his.

Then, his head was moving forward, and his lips were brushing against yours. It was a ghost of a kiss, barely touching your lips, but the electricity was there. It was a spark that made your entire body tingle and your heart race.

When Nick pulled away, he was met with your intense gaze. You were almost upset at the weak display. Even though you understood his hesitation, a part of you was hoping he would be braver.

"That's it?" You murmured, a hint of teasing in your voice.

And the moment those words left your mouth, he was smirking. He was actually smirking, and his fingers were running through your hair.

"Are you asking me for more?" He asked, his voice low and deep, sending another shiver down your spine.

"I’m not asking," You breathed out, leaning in close and pressing your forehead against his. The moment you did, his grip tightened around your waist, and his free hand slid down to your hip, squeezing it slightly. "You were brave enough to get those letters out. Be brave enough to kiss me like you mean it."

Those were the magic words.

He didn't say anything in response.

He didn't need to.

Instead, his hands went back to the nape of your neck, and his lips were once again on yours. Only this time, it was not a ghostly touch. It was real, and the moment his lips were on yours, all your senses were flooded with him.

You could feel his warm, plush lips molding against yours and the gentle way his fingers were running through your hair.

But what made you absolutely weak was the taste of him. Your legs were almost wobbling the moment his tongue slipped into your mouth. It was like a dance, his tongue brushing against yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And as the two of you kissed, all the tension and the desire that had been building up in the past months slowly dissipated.

Your heart was racing, and your mind was in a daze. The only thing you were thinking about was Nick and his lips. And as his fingers gripped onto the strands of your hair and the way his hips began to press against yours, all you could think about was getting him closer.

So, your hands traveled down from his chest and to his back, gripping the material of his jacket as you pulled him towards you.

The action elicited a groan from the back of his throat, and his hips began to press firmly against yours. You could feel the way his hips were subtly grinding against yours, and as his hardness began to rub against the thin material of your dress, the moan that escaped your lips was swallowed by his mouth.

The kiss was turning heated and passionate, and your lips were swollen and bruised. Your fingers were tugging on his hair, and his were clutching at the strands of your own.

His teeth gently bit down on your bottom lip, and a moan escaped your lips; the sound was swallowed by his mouth, and you could feel him smiling.

You and Nick were so lost in each other that night, so focused on the taste of one another and the way his body was pressed against yours; it created a bubble where you both were safe, warm, and blissful.

It was the first time in a long time either of you had felt that way, and that feeling continued to grow, and eventually, it blossomed into a love that was deeper than the ocean and brighter than the sun.

And that was when you realized that no matter what happened, the two of you would always have each other, and no matter how cruel the world was, the two of you would always find a way to stay true to yourselves.

[smallgodseries]

[image description: An eight-armed figure in a blue dress and shoes, a striped blue and white apron with the tine figure of Small God Hummel sewn on, feathered headdress and blue bakelite bracelets stands in front of a dark larder – in which outlines of food jars and dishes can be seen. They bear 5 glowing jars that seem to be candles in primary colors. Text reads, “50, Kitsch Annette ~ The Small God of Organized Pantries”]

If she could make people understand one thing and one thing only, it would be this: that food has no moral value, and that anyone whose pantry can be considered “full” is a virtuous person in her eyes, regardless of whether that fullness is kale chips and quinoa or Girl Scout cookies and pre-mixed buttercream frosting.  She cares about the quality of the shelves, their fullness and fineness, not their contents or what the latest diet craze has to say about those contents.

If she could make people understand two things, it would be that a well-stocked, well-indexed pantry is a palace beyond price, a lofty cathedral filled with miracles waiting to be mixed.  Cakes to be baked, potatoes to be peeled, spices and seasonings over which people have so very often gone to war, ready to be sprinkled over meat or folded into casseroles.  Holes in the shelves are not to be borne; a regularly updated shopping list is worth a thousand impulse buys or once-a-year stocking runs.  Every household should, in her eyes, be able to shut its doors and sustain itself for as long as plausible.  She understands all too well that not everyone can afford the luxury of a proper pantry, and she weeps for those outside the warmth and light of her hearth, whose stomachs are too often empty, whose soups, when they exist at all, are too often unseasoned.

She would feed the world, given rice enough and time.

If she could make people understand three things, it would be that another cup of water can always be added to the pot, that one more potato can always be diced into the hash, that one more egg is not so great a sacrifice, for look, the poorest among her following understand these things, make their offerings both wise and wide, fill the bellies of those around them.  For even the fullest shelf will be empty in a moment if placed before the starving, and so she will accept no hunger among her faithful that could be filled, will believe no table full when a single plate more could be placed upon it.  There is always room to feed your fellows.

She was a god of harvest once, and plenty.  She still is.

But seriously, replace your spices every four years, or they won’t be anything but faintly scented powder, and that is a blasphemy in her sight.

[windvexer]

what spells would you recommend for trying to grow a discord server?

Feed the server and make it fat and happy. It will begin to expand on its own, like an eldritch monster unfurling its tentacles.

To feed a Discord server so it grows fat and happy and expands like an eldritch monster:

I have for you two methods. The first is feeding an effigy, and the second is direct energy work.

Create an effigy of your Discord server, and feed it physical offerings:

Create an effigy. Here are some ideas.

a dollie or a poppet, your idealization of what creature the server might look like if it were a guy, marked with the server ID as a taglock

a sachet or container filled with server taglocks (name, ID, date of birth, printed "About Server" content, etc)

a sigil based on the name and purpose of the server

Create and awaken the effigy in your usual manner. Then, keep it in a nice location and often feed it physical offerings. This may include food, beverages, luxury gifts like liquor and tobacco, candles, and incense.

Feed it as often as you like, even daily. When you feed it, make it clear that it should be going out to find new members and bring them in. Encourage it to soothe potential members so they are willing to go through any membership validation processes, and any other instructions you think are helpful.

Directly energize the server:

In a trance state, seek out the energetic core of the discord server and directly feed it energy. This is not the same thing as energizing the physical device which you are using to view the server.

Try using an energy working technique similar to "grounding roots," except instead of growing roots into the earth, you are growing tendrils into the internet.

It can help to focus on an admin-only sigil channel (described below), and you can also energetically feed an effigy (described above).

A candle spell may work well for a temporary boost to membership.

A candle spell to get people to join your Discord server:

Energize a candle of any color. Here are ideas of energies to capitalize on:

Mercurial, mercury

Drawing in, creating

Visualizations of members joining

Air

On or around the candle holder, in whatever fire-safe manner you prefer, encircle the candle in honey or sugar (to sweeten; make pleasant), and include allspice berries or ground allspice (chatter, movement, exchange).

Enchant and seal the candle in your preferred method.

The candle flame may provide a helpful omen.

Before modern architecture where frames supported a building, buildings used to rest on the weight of their walls. This necessitated hugely fortified walls to support the structure.

Likewise, a server that grows too rapidly may not have the necessary framework available to support it, and collapse under its own weight.

Be preemptive and build large walls around your server, to provide necessary support while inner frameworks are developed and expanded.

To work a protection on a server, a blog, or any online space:

Prepare a jar spell using:

an opaque black stone (obsidian, jet, and tourmaline work well for you rock collectors; also, river rocks and landscaping rocks painted black; lava rocks, or found stones very dark in color), [an impregnable wall]

a tangle of knotted thread (any color), [to 'trip up' unwanted things]

an iron nail [a knight with sword and shield standing guard]

To this, add two things:

a paper with the server ID number (or, URL of the web group)

a sigil for the purpose of protection

Enchant the jar in your usual manner. Then:

in an admin-only hidden channel of the server, include a photograph of the spell jar and upload a photograph of the sigil for the purpose of protection.

This entire operation is elevated if the ward is tied to a ruleset members must agree to on joining.

[sunnyglassware]

Wholesale Custom Logo Label Piano With UU Floral Paper Glass Candle Jar

[girlypopbops]

A girly pop's guide to hosting an at home coffee shop day ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•

Between the social appeal of coffee shops and the delectable treats and beverages they offer, a coffee shop date is always a go-to with friends. Sometimes I wish I could take all my friends out for coffee at once, but coffee shops aren't built to accommodate that. However, you know what is? Your own home! Recreating a coffee shop at home is a fun way to host your friends and enjoy all the luxuries of a coffee shop.

Here’s my idea for the perfect setup and execution for an at-home coffee shop gathering:

The Setup:

⋆˙⟡ On a large counter, island, or table, setting up a cute tablecloth and doilies for your coffee machine is essential.

⋆˙⟡ Have various coffee mugs and glasses neatly arranged for your guests to use.

⋆˙⟡ Additionally, have small, cute jars with various sugar packets, little spoons, and straws (glass ones are eco-friendly and aesthetic! Paper straws are also an adorable way to add pattern and character to the drinks).

⋆˙⟡ Ask everyone to bring their own milk or creamer. This way, everyone's preferences and allergies are accommodated, and it’s also a great opportunity to try different milks and creamers. The drink options are endless—like an open bar, but for coffee!

⋆˙⟡ Depending on your coffee machine, have coffee beans, pods, or similar items in a container tied with a ribbon. You can also include chai or matcha for variety.

⋆˙⟡ Embellish the table with flowers and other miscellaneous trinkets to add character.

⋆˙⟡ For pastries, a cake stand is ideal for displaying treats, but a cute plate with a patterned napkin underneath also works.

⋆˙⟡ Baking the pastries together can be a fun activity to add to the event, if you choose!

⋆˙⟡ Creating a fake menu to put on the wall is a sweet addition and ties the event together!

Activities:

⋆˙⟡ Crafting: Everyone can bring their preferred craft supplies or you can provide collaging materials. Chat, craft, and sip!

⋆˙⟡ Book Club: Have everyone read the same book before the event so you can discuss it over a cute beverage.

⋆˙⟡ Coloring: Similar to crafting, guests can bring their favorite coloring books or you can print out coloring sheets that match the day’s theme, like a coffee shop coloring sheet.

(This can even become a monthly ritual to catch up with friends, set new monthly goals together, or even align with moon phases!)

Ambiance:

⋆˙⟡ Music: Play upbeat tunes, as real coffee shops always have lively music! I’ve attached a playlist that might fit the event below.

⋆˙⟡ Visuals: Have something on the TV or a projector (preferably with the sound off). This could be a girly movie, a visually appealing YouTube video, or even a fake yule log.

⋆˙⟡ Lighting: Lots of natural light is a must. Additionally, candles and warm-toned lamps will make the space cozy.

⋆˙⟡ Seating: A table setup for guests is ideal, but you can also arrange pillows for alternative seating. If possible, set the table with placemats, a stack of books, and a flower vase in the middle. Tea light candles and scattered dried fruit or flowers will add a gorgeous touch.

Attire:

⋆˙⟡ Encourage everyone to dress cozy and cute! Having a similar vibe will really bring the event together. You can include this in the invite (digital invites are cute and make the event feel more special).

[alokkumarmaeva]

The Maeva Store offers Tangerine & Cilantro Scented Candle Online

Choose a Tangerine & Cilantro Scented Candle from The Maeva Store for a refreshing blend in a frosted glass jar painted with a flower design. Find the most fragrant candles to create a lively atmosphere in your house.

[himalayantrading]

Himalayan Trading Post Address: 1750 Breckinridge Pkwy # 500, Duluth, GA 30096, United States Phone: +16787053245 Website URL: https://www.himalayantradingpost.com/

[ficklefics]

Obsessed - Part 4: Mind and Again

Your life with Jeremiah is faultless. Perfect. And yet that voice persists in the distant part of your mind: Something is wrong.

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

PART 3

Requested by @vayereliyanin

Warnings: Self harm, Implied torture and brainwashing, Stalking, Nudity

Flour. Sugar. Eggs. Milk. A pinch of salt.

Whisk. Whisk. Whisk until the batter’s smooth.

A pan on the hob. Gentle heat. Be careful not to burn yourself. A ladle and a half. Let it coat the pan evenly. Wait. Flip. Wait. Slide it onto the plate and cover.

Pan. Ladle. Wait. Flip. Wait.

Pan. Ladle. Wait. Flip. Wait.

The pattern was simple. The pattern was good. It was easy to follow. No need to deviate. No need to think. It was Sunday morning and on Sunday mornings we have crepes.

The mixing bowl was empty by the time the door opened behind you. A cool hand on your waist and a kiss on your cheek in greeting.

“Good morning, sweetness.” You smiled at the pet name, at Jeremiah.

“Good morning.” Allowing yourself only a moment to lean into his touch, you pulled away. “Help me with my apron?”

His hands deftly untied the bow at your back, lifted the apron over your head and discarded it to the side. It was those simple moments that you loved most, the gentle acts of service that were so characteristic of him. You picked up the crepes and turned with them in your hands. He was smiling at you, practically glowing with love. He took the plate and carried it to the table, freeing you to bring the jar of homemade raspberry compote. He sat at the head, with you to his right, and let you shift the crepe from the top of the pile onto his plate, offering him the jar and a spoon.

“Thank you my dear.” You served yourself and began eating, knowing he wouldn’t start before you were a few bites in. He was so patient, so generous. You ate in a companionable silence. It was only after finishing his plate that he spoke: “Delicious as always.” He rested a hand on yours, holding it tight. “I must go to work now, but I’ll see you this evening. If you behave, I may even bring you a gift.” You couldn’t hide the excitement on your face. You never went without, never wanted for anything, but the idea of something special, of some kind of treat, set your heart fluttering. “If you behave, of course.” Suddenly he was serious. The grip on his hand just a little too strong. But you didn’t flinch. You simply nodded, pulling back your grin to a more restrained smile. You knew Jeremiah meant well. That he only cared for keeping you safe, protecting you. That sometimes that desire overcame him and made him go too far. It wasn’t his fault.

“Of course.” He stood and gave you a kiss on the forehead. “I hope you have a good day, love.” He smiled at that.

The dishes were cleaned, the floors swept, chores all done. There were still a few hours before Jeremiah would be home from work.

More than enough time for a relaxing bath.

Water gushed from the tap in a steaming torrent. You dripped in essential oils, lit candles, poured bubble bath until the bath was a luxury of foam and lavender. You slipped from your jeans, your blouse, left them neatly folded on the counter. Twisted your hair up and away from the nape of your neck. Climbed in and sunk into ecstasy.

A whole hour in peace and relaxation. When the water began to prick goosebumps along your skin, you stood and stepped out, wrapping the thick towelling robe around your body. You left the bathroom into the bedroom and sat at the dressing table to stare at your reflection. Damp hair hung around your face in tangles. Loose like this, it failed to hide the marks on your temples. They had always been there. Birth marks, you were sure. Almost symmetrical. Red spots, almost like abrasions. But not. Birth marks. They were birth marks. Almost unconsciously, a hand drifted under to the base of your skull, to the thin ridge that wound its way from ear to ear. The line was so narrow you almost forgot about it in the day to day. Almost. An accident with hair straighteners when you were younger and more reckless. An accident. That was all.

You shook yourself away and reached for your hairdryer and brush. The routine of blow-drying and styling was well-practiced, almost robotic. By the end of it every unsightly thing was hidden away and there wasn’t a hair out of place. There never was.

*

Wake up. Monday. Oatmeal. Write the shopping list. Pasta. Sleep.

Wake up. Tuesday. Omelettes. Stock the pantry. Steak. Sleep.

Wake up. Wednesday. Croissants. Clean the bathrooms. Soup. Sleep.

Wake up. Thursday. Scrambled eggs. Wash the floors. Fish. Sleep.

Wake up. Friday. French toast. Read. Chicken. Sleep.

Wake up. Saturday. Croque monsieur. Spend time together. Sushi. Sleep.

Wake up. Sunday. Crepes. Clean the kitchen. Roast beef. Sleep.

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up.

*

You were not a restless sleeper. You closed your eyes at 11pm and woke up at 6am. Like clockwork. So why were your eyes wide open and staring after you had lain down.

In the dark, the ceiling almost seemed to swirl. Or maybe it was your brain. Spots darker and brighter, inflating and shrinking, twisting and turning around each other in strange patterns. You couldn’t stop watching though you longed for your eyes to close and morning to come.

Jeremiah’s body next to yours was still. Sometimes you joked to yourself that, when he was asleep, he was indistinguishable to a corpse. Only the very slight rise and fall of his chest proved that he was still alive.

Just lay still. Don’t let him know you’re awake.

You weren’t sure why the thought of Jeremiah realising you weren’t sleeping as normal was so terrifying to you. Surely the man who loved you would be worried for your insomnia. A hazy memory of sleeping pills rose to the surface of your mind. A time when you had been plagued by sleeplessness, when… when…

And as soon as it had appeared, the memory was gone. Almost like a dream. Perhaps it was. Perhaps you were already asleep.

*

Flour. Sugar. Eggs. Eggs. Eggs. Milk. A pinch of salt.

Whisk. Whisk. Whisk until the batter’s smooth.

Whisk. Whisk. Eggshells. Whisk. Not smooth.

A pan on the hob. Gentle heat. Hotter. A bright flame. Fascinating colours flickering against the metal. Careful. Touch it.

It hurts. Hurts. Sensation. Hold onto it. You don’t feel anymore. But you feel this. He takes this from you. The pain. Take it back. Feel it. Hurt. Hurt.

You don’t realise you’re screaming until your hand is being pulled away and forced under a cool stream of running water. Jeremiah is at your side, hushing you, brushing away the sobs, holding your trembling form against his body. Holding you tight so you won’t slip away.

He murmurs comforting words as he sits you down and soothes the burns with a salve. The sensitive and fragile skin of your hand is now red and raw, blistering at spots. It twitches in his grasp. You haven’t spoken. You’re not sure what you’re meant to say. What you’re supposed to say. This doesn’t happen, it shouldn’t happen.

It happened.

Jeremiah was talking, but more to himself than you.

“Easy to fix, just a simple problem. Something I didn’t notice the first time. Not to worry, you’ll be good as new.”

The first time. Good as new.

Good as new.

He walked away, came back, gave you a glass of cloudy water. Under the intensity of his gaze, you drank it all.

“Let’s get you back to bed.” He helped you up from the seat, down the corridor. Changed your clothes for pyjamas and tucked you under the silken sheets. He stroked your hair as your mind grew hazy. “I’ll make you right as rain, my sweet. You’ll be yourself.”

*

Darkness. A single bright light. Was this death? Had you died?

No. Death couldn’t be this painful.

But it could definitely be this lonely.

All that you had was that voice in your head. The voice that was yours, and yet not yours. Screaming at you. You weren’t sure what for.

She couldn’t help you. There was nothing to be helped. This was it.

*

The bathwater was tepid. You couldn’t remember how long you had been soaking in it, but your fingertips had shrivelled in the damp. You were staring at the door. At the brighter spot of paint, newer than the rest of it. The slight gouges near the handle, the painted over screw holes. There had never been a lock there. You were sure of it. There was no need to lock each other out. So why…

The thought was disrupted by a jolt of pain that shot through your head. You winced, resisting the urge to cry out. Scrambling, almost panicking, you threw yourself from the bath and escaped to the bedroom, still naked and dripping water on the plush carpet. You gripped the dressing table, knuckles white. In the mirror your cheeks were pale. The birth marks darker. Stress? Must be. Stress. What stress? What was there in this life to stress you? Every day was the same, nothing ever unexpected, nothing to scare you or surprise you. So why did you feel so afraid?

The sound of the door handle turning made you spin around, heart pounding in your chest and brain pounding in your skull.

Jeremiah closed the door behind him with a click. His pale eyes took you in, stood there, exposed. An unnameable shiver ran up your spine.

“Isn’t this a surprise.” Was it surprise in his voice? Or something else?

“Jeremiah. I was just getting changed. I didn’t realise you were home.” You walked slowly towards the hook on the bathroom door where a silken robe hung. You reached for it, eager for the protection it offered.

“Wait.” You froze mid-movement. He stalked towards you. Stalked? That was the word that came to mind? Why? Now he was beside you. A cold hand rested on your skin, tracing the contours of your body, a path of goosebumps appearing in its wake. This was unusual. Jeremiah was not a physical man. Affectionate, sure, but he had never expressed interest in anything further than that. It wasn’t a problem for you. You couldn’t remember the last time you had wanted someone to touch you. This sensation was unfamiliar. Distant. Unwelcome.

He cradled the back of your head. It almost felt as though his fingers were probing the scar that sat there. He examined your face, eyes giving away nothing. You could never know what he was thinking. When he kissed you, you wanted it to feel like love. And it did, in a way. It felt like his love. Like possession. Like ownership. Like… like…

Before you could find the word, he pulled away. A gentler kiss on the forehead. “Get dressed. It’s almost time for dinner.”

*

What day was it? Tuesday. Stock the pantry.

Stock. Stock the pantry.

You didn’t.

You wandered. Wandered the halls like a ghost. Unending. Lost. You could taste blood in your mouth. When you touched your tongue, your saliva was clear. You felt like Theseus in the labyrinth. Bound by an invisible string, drawn to doom. Searching for something you couldn’t remember. These doors were so familiar yet so, so distant. Like a dream. Like a nightmare.

You had stopped in front of one. It opened to reveal a security room. Nobody there. Nobody watching the wall of screens showing the view of the cameras that were watching you. You took a shaky step over the threshold. The door closed behind you. The screens approached and engulfed your vision. That voice in the back of your mind was even louder now.

There was a phone. Jeremiah didn’t have phones. You didn’t need them. Everyone you needed to speak to was here. So why was there a phone?

You reached for it. Dialled a number. The number. Listened to the ringing.

A bored voice. “GCPD.”

“Hello.” The word almost became trapped in your throat. You couldn’t remember the last time you spoke to anyone else.

“Hello? Ma’am, this is a priority number. What do you want?”

“My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” It was important to say. You weren’t sure why.

The voice swore, then there was a clatter, and shouting. Then another voice, one that was familiar.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes. I- I don’t-”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at home.” Were you? Were you at home? Or was this place something else, something more insidious? Something was very, very wrong.

“Look, hold on. Just don’t hang up. We’re going to find you. Just… Just hold on.”

You were still holding the phone when the building shook with footsteps. Still holding the phone when the door slammed open. Still holding the phone when the familiar face of a man you didn’t recognise appeared beside you.

“It’s okay, (Y/N). You’re safe now.”

“Was I in danger?”

Yes. Yes, you were.

*

This apartment was small. Bedroom, toilet, living area and kitchen combined. Barred windows that barely opened. 3 bolts and 4 chains on the door. Police in the hallway and outside the building day and night. It was more of a prison than the maze had ever been. But you finally felt free. You hadn’t realised you’d felt trapped.

Your mind was starting to piece things together. Your other life, your real life, was still a haze, but it was within reach. And every day Jeremiah was further away.

Did you miss him? You felt his absence. You weren’t sure it was the same thing.

But he was never that far, not really. The marks on your temples – those you now knew to be electrical burns – were fading, but still sore. The scar – from surgery – easy to ignore, but still present.

And when you looked out of your window, you felt him watching you. You never saw him. Never a glimpse of dark hair, of leather gloves, of pale, pale skin.

But he would never be gone.

MASTERLIST