#motivational gift box

[unopenablebox]

should my next Big Knitting Project be lace shawl 2 or sweater

if sweater: i have a sweater in progress from a thousand years ago that i could pick back up. pro: have and like pattern and yarn. already have a front and a sleeve. con: only about 70% that i made a front and not a back would need to investigate. only about 60% that i definitely wrote down the needle size. would have to reswatch to find out if my tension changed since 2019.

while i still like that sweater i'm really most motivated by the idea of making sweater for 🌸 but it adds a lot of stakes to pattern selection since they don't actually have maximal introspective access to their own clothing taste. and also i have not made a lot of garments in the past and it might require a lot of reknitting to get it to a gift quality im happy with, which unfortunately given my Disability is a really severe setback if my goal is "eventually make finished objects". not that that's my only goal but i do care about it somewhat

lace shawl meanwhile is mostly motivated by the fact that i am super high on the joy of beading and lace rn. which is a very good reason to do it, but i truly truly do not know what i would possibly do with second lace shawl. dont even know if 🌸 will like wearing the first one yet.

[prestige-nails-by-kelly-marie]

Etsy listing available in my shop

Check out this item in my Etsy shop https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/1489635091/birthday-gift-for-her-self-care-gift

[ovaryacted]

SECONDHAND SMOKE

─ Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant f! reader || WC: 2.2k

SYNOPSIS: Waiting for Logan back at the X-Mansion, he welcomes you into his arms and enjoys his cigar with you on his lap.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUTTY. Thigh Riding. Dirty Talk. Kissing. Scent Kink. Light Oral (f receiving). Established Relationship. Older! X-Men Logan implied. Age Gap Implied [Logan looks to be in his 40s, Reader is in their 20s]. Reader is a telepath & telekinetic mutant with a human appearance. Telepathic communication. Logan is a tease and a lover boy, he uses multiple terms of endearment. They match each other's freak.

A/N: I've been meaning to upload another Logan fic especially since watching the D&W movie on Friday, and I wanted to share this with y'all. This story is also technically part of a larger idea, but that will be talked about later. I have other things planned for Logan as well for X-Men Logan, old man Logan, and variant Logan. That man is not going to be safe on my watch. Thank you to @ozarkthedog for the proofread and the motivation to keep writing for this man, and shout out to @zloshy for taking part in the aesthetics and the encouragement with the yap sessions. I adore you both. Anywho, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy! <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

You’ve been waiting for him all day while he was out with the rest of the leading group of X-Men, something regarding a history lesson that needed to be handled. You stayed at the mansion on Xavier’s orders, tending to the younger class of gifted mutants until the veterans arrived by nightfall. To keep yourself occupied, you perused the many books Logan kept on his shelf towards the far end of his bedroom, picking up a well-loved novel from Hemingway to delve into. 

Carefully turning the pages, the wording and storytelling entranced you, each paragraph manifesting into visions that played in your head like a live-action film. Half of your senses remained in the book while the other listened for the familiar creaks of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hallway.

You sensed him before you saw him. Halfway into the book, you lift your head at the sound of the door opening, spotting Logan standing by the threshold of the room’s entryway. Closing the door behind him, he steps towards where you sat on his bed, holding your chin upwards to face him. Bending forward, he placed a soft kiss on your lips, followed by a content sigh that made a smile creep up on your face.

“Hey,” you said, meeting Logan’s softened gaze as he moved away from you to the other side of the room, plopping down on the leather armchair in a heap. He exhaled heavily through his nose, throwing his head back along the edge of the chair. “Long day?”

“The fucking longest,” Logan grumbled, his brow bone creasing before he relaxed.

“I thought you liked hanging out with Scott?” you questioned, the end of your voice trailing off into a playful tease as you sat up on the mattress.

“Sweetheart, that man has a pretentious stick up his ass. You couldn’t pay me to spend time with him.” You laughed at his mild irritation, knowing Logan’s faux vexation towards his friend was a facade to cover his true feelings of fondness.

Reaching for a box of cigars to his right, Logan clipped the cap off a fresh one and popped it between his lips, holding it by his teeth. He glanced at you, the corner of his lips curling up in a mischievous grin.

“Come here, you gotta light this for me.”

With a smile, you obliged, quickly rising on your feet and striding to where he sat in the chair, swinging your legs around to situate yourself over his denim-clad lap. Straightening your back, your eyes briefly flashed black as you materialized the metal lighter from its place on the bookshelf before Logan, flicking the spark wheel until the red flame brightened his chin. The foot end of the cigar sizzled as it burnt to ash, the familiar scent of finely aged tobacco filled your nose as he drew in his first breath.

“Sneaky.” He mumbled around the cigar, taking a harsh pull of air before curling his fingers to hold it, huffing the smoke out on the next exhale.

“I call it being efficient.” You grinned to yourself, accepting the reciprocated hum rumbling through Logan’s broad chest. Your fingers skimmed his collarbones that peeked through the white tank under his flannel, admiring the bob of his throat and the steady rise of his body whenever he breathed.

“What were you up to in here? Snooping through my shit?” His sight darted to the burgundy button-down you wore, ending right at the top of your bare thighs. He brought his free hand to caress your leg, running circles over your skin and feeling you shiver slightly under him. “I was looking for this shirt last week, you know?”

“First off, this was gifted to me,” you stated with a roll of your eyes, smacking Logan across the chest and forcing a dry chuckle out of him. “And secondly, I was waiting for you to come back.”

“Hmm, so you’re saying you missed me?”

“Surprisingly, I did.” You sneaked your other hand towards Logan’s neck, curling your fingers around the thick hair at his nape. He almost purred at the touch, smoking his cigar and looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“Besides, it’s nice and quiet here. You also gave me permission to be here for your information.” 

Since dating Logan, it has been a slow start to accomplishing milestones for either of you, taking things one step at a time to avoid scaring the other off. Now that things have been good between you, he gave you free reign to be in his bedroom at the mansion, usually spending the day here for some solace or sleeping in his bed instead of yours on the other side of the estate. On a mental note, he intended to make your presence in his life more permanent.

“Damn, I forgot I gave you permission to take my stuff,” Logan quipped, somehow becoming more cocky than he usually was. You loved him for it either way.

Asshole. Although you didn’t verbally say the word, he heard your voice in his mind, taking the telepathic route. His smirk widened as he took another drag of his cigar, the smoke heavy in the air as it circled the two of you.

“All yours, darlin’.” He offered you a wink, squeezing your thigh with his other hand to keep you in place, seated on his thick thighs.

You spent a few minutes talking to him, giving him a rundown of your relatively calm day and mentioning the book you read earlier. It was oddly domestic, something that most mutants would not be able to partake in, and Logan silently thanked whoever granted him the opportunity to experience it.

A comfortable silence occupied the room once Logan was halfway down his cigar. Enjoying his company, you nuzzled into his neck, taking in his natural scent. A mix of pinewood and leather filled your senses, musky and so clearly him, your belly twitched at the warmth of his body against yours. Absentmindedly, you began to litter kisses over his skin, placing a few more along the base of his throat and moving upwards to the corner of his jaw. He could smell the shift in your behavior; arousal mixing in with the lingering haze heightened his senses, and his attention was directed back to you.

“Need something?” His voice dropped an octave as he asked you, running lines up and down your leg, the sensation making you squirm.

“Need you, smartass.” Holding his face, you kissed him on the cheek and once more on the tip of his nose, reaching his lips along the way. His eyes closed at the touch, wanting nothing more than to feel the caress of your tongue and sink his teeth into your bottom lip. 

“I want you too, but I’m on my smoke break.” You were ready to pout at him before Logan adjusted your positioning, shifting you more off to the side so your pelvis sat on one of his thighs. The thickness of the denim covering the hard muscle of his leg rubbed against your underwear, a moan settling in the back of your throat at the contact.

“Get yourself off while I finish this. Promise, it’ll be worth it, hun.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, knowing what he was asking for, yet your cheeks warmed under his stare. He merely shrugged, raising an eyebrow and patiently waiting for your next move.

Doubtfully, you pivoted your hips forward, dragging yourself across the vast expanse of his thigh before drawing backward. The first few passes felt strange, but you quickly found your rhythm, rocking your hips in even thrusts. The material of his jeans rubbed just right against your panties; the thin fabric that separated your body from his added more friction to your sensitive clit. Your lower spine grew warm with Logan’s free hand idly holding your waist, calmly guiding your movements over him until he was confident you got it handled.

Logan leans back into the chair and plants his feet on the floor, giving you more leverage to work with. His keen eyes take in the way you flutter yours shut, eyebrows furrowing in concentration at getting the perfect angle and drive. He can hear your heart beating in your ribcage and can feel the pumping of your blood flowing through your veins to rush between your legs.

Muffled moans pour out of you, gripping the fabric of Logan’s shirt and tilting forward a bit more, digging your face into the crook of his neck and shoulder. The secondhand smoke from his cigar amplified the incessant throbbing down South, a second pulse that pounded through your body with a need clawing at your gut. The motion of your hips grew more persistent as your slick seeped into your panties, known to Logan when his nostrils flared to catch your scent in the air.

“Feeling good, princess?” You heard his voice filtering through the light mess of your thoughts, focusing on making yourself feel good under his orders. You hummed against his neck, nodding and keeping your even pacing as you leaned into his muscular body.

“Yeah, I know it’s good. Bet your pussy is just crying for me now, probably tastes just as sweet too.” Logan’s vulgar mouth only motivated you to grind your hips harder against his leg, reminiscent of a bitch in heat the more you moved over him.

There was something erotic about getting yourself off while Logan observed and enjoyed his smoke. To him, you were quality entertainment, a sight for sore eyes after a hectic day full of learning things he was trying to retain. Your mind grew clouded, full of the many ways Logan handled you, things like this that kept you on your toes the way he knew how. Flashbacks of this morning flickered before your eyes, reminiscing the feel of his tongue slipping inside you and his bicep tucked under your neck as he fucked you from behind.

Logan could picture it too, traces of your daydreams passing by in his head, instances where he made you feel so good you had nothing left to give. He wonders how wet you are, could taste your cunt on the back of his tongue, missing it since he left you with a weary grin on your face as you slept in his bed. He hopes you stained the worn denim that separated the two of you and prays that you leave your mark on him, no matter how temporary.

“Getting close?” he asked. He didn’t hear you respond, but your voice remained floating in the confines of his skull.

Yes. Fuck yes. So close. Fuck me. Fuck me. Please.

“I will sugar, promise I will.” His hand ran up the curve of your spine and gently curled around your neck, pulling you backward to hold his gaze. Your glossed-over pupils dilated at the sight of him, irises darkening and filling with ink. The embodiment of your powers made him curious at first, with blackened eyes at the indication of specific actions, but he quickly got used to seeing the signs every time he made you fall over the edge.

“C’mon, sweet girl. Make a mess on my jeans, and I swear I’ll treat your pussy the way she deserves, the way she needs. Let me feel it.”

Logan. Logan. Logan.

“Fuuuck…” You whined under your breath, doing three more harsh passes over his thigh before your body abruptly tensed, legs shaking and pressing into his hard body as the wave slammed over you. Mind clear and body lax, you hummed against Logan’s throat, pulse thumping against your lips as you placed a light kiss.

He took one last pull of his cigar before smudging it into the ashtray on the end table to his left, ideally saving whatever was left of it for after he fucks you. Wrapping his thick arms around you, he brings you closer to him, pulling your hips over his to hover over the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Need something?” you taunted, parroting his earlier words with equal tone and sarcasm.

“Yeah. Need to clean up the mess you made.”

Crashing into your lips, he kissed you deeply for the first time that night, curling his tongue around yours in affectionate swirls and releasing an audible groan. Holding you close, he stood up on his feet and picked you up with ease, strolling towards the bed in three strides. Lighthearted giggles tumbled out of you, making Logan’s heart beat in tandem with yours. The sides of his face creased as he mimicked your smile, tugging hastily at your sodden underwear and tossing them to the side. Rough fingers curled around the soft flesh of your thigh, parting your legs to admire his handiwork as he heard your voice in his head again.

Greedy.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” As if to prove your point, he licked a broad stripe up the length of your cunt, your wetness coating his tongue as he placed a complimentary kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves, re-igniting the fire he started.

 “Now be good and let your old man have a taste.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[daydreamkissesxo]

Father Charlie x reader | Sinner

Brief mentions of smut and pregnancy, completely self indulgent. 18+

You were a devoted Catholic, a regular attendee of the church with your equally devoted family.

Your family were blessed to have such an academically gifted and religiously dedicated daughter, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

You’d often been approached by the overbearing mothers of similar aged son’s at Sunday mass, all seeking your hand in marriage for their insufferable offspring.

Your family were modestly proud of the attention you’d gained, equally keen to find you a suitor, though your lack of interest was due to something far more perverted.

You’d became entranced by Father Charlie’s charm, he was the sole motive for your ultimate devotion to the church.

You craved his attention, his praise for your dedication leaving you utterly vulnerable each time you’d receive it.

You hadn’t been as subtle as you’d hoped, Father Charlie knew of your fondness for him which is why he chose to ignore the chatter amongst churchgoers of your possible marriage.

He’d often found it amusing to witness mothers attempt to pitch their son’s qualities while he had the knowledge of the sins they’d admitted to him through the confessional box.

He grew uncomfortable seeing how quickly you were hounded by persistent mothers seconds after mass had ended, often wanting to intervene but finding no believable excuse to.

Father Charlie was surprised to see that you’d booked an appointment through the parish office to meet with him during the week.

Half expecting you to be sat with your newly appointed suitor, yet he was pleased to see you sat alone.

“Miss Y/L/N?” He calls out softly as he enters his office, walking around his desk to sit opposite you.

You were dressed so modestly, your Bible placed on the desk in front of you, it was a heavenly sight.

Had he been able to marry you before he was ordained, you would have made the perfect preachers wife.

“Father, I’m sorry not to have waited until after Mass but I must speak with you.” You confess with urgency, your hands nervously trembling in your lap.

Father Charlie was rightfully concerned to see you so visibly upset, you’d always been so happy.

“Is there something wrong Y/N?” He asks, shifting closer to the edge of his seat before extending his hand out to take hold of yours.

Your linked hands rest on the bible placed in front of you, his thumb softly caressing the back of yours.

His touch was like electricity, your heart began to race as you grew increasingly nervous.

“Father, I..I have sinned.” You confess timidly, tears flooding your waterline and blurring your vision.

Father Charlie tried to refrain from physically reacting despite his confusion and growing curiosity, wanting to treat you no different to any other sinner willing to confess.

“What is it that you’ve done Y/N?” He attempted to sound sympathetic but he was anxious, worried that the constant pressing of a marriage had sent you flying off the rails.

“I..I’m worried you may look at me differently, father.” You sniffle, bringing your free hand up to your cheek to wipe away a stray tear.

He shook his head, dismissing your claim without even hearing your confession.

“I could never.”

You hesitantly looked up at him, his reassuring smile making your heart flutter.

“I..I’ve not been in my right mind lately, father. During my reproductive cycle, I have noticed a strong sexual desire that is incurable.” You lowered your head in shame for what you were about to confess, your hand trembling beneath his.

“I have..pleasured myself.”

He watched as you nervously averted your gaze, giving your hand a gentle reassuring squeeze.

“It’s not the end of the world Y/N. You’ll repent, and we’ll say no more about this.”

He stood up from his seat, walking around the desk to then sit on the edge of it beside you.

You became nervous once more, having him in such close proximity and practically towering over you.

“Your body has a natural desire to reproduce, it’s not entirely your fault you gave in to such an overwhelming urge.”

The thought of your highly fertile state left him completely aroused, knowing he could ruin your chances of marriage and claim you secretly simply by impregnating you.

He reached out to cup your cheek, forcibly turning your head to look up at him.

“Tell me, how did it feel?” He whispered, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You froze in response, worried that your honest answer may worsen your case.

“It..it felt really good, father.” You whispered timidly, your gaze nervously meeting his.

His hold on your cheek loosened, he extended his thumb before placing it against your bottom lip and very slowly dragging it down.

“Tell me what you did. Tell me what you were thinking.”

You knew this was not part of a standard confession yet you obliged regardless, your thighs tensing as heat pools in your underwear.

“I waited until everyone was asleep, and then I slipped my hand beneath my nightgown and took off my underwear.”

His breath was audibly heavier, his lips parting as he pictures the scene you’re describing.

“I inserted my fingers into myself, and I thought of you, father.” You whispered shamelessly, your own breath growing heavier.

“I do not want to get married, I only want you. I cannot live with the thought of another man touching me the way I wish you could.”

Your confession left him speechless and undeniably horny, his cassock thankfully hiding his now prominent bulge.

“You must repent.” He whispers, slipping his thumb past your lips and pressing it against your tongue to prevent you from any further confessions.

“You will not speak a word of this to anyone. I expect you to stay after mass so I can deal with you properly.”

He stands from his seated position on the desk, his hand falling from your cheek to your knee as his fingers scramble to slip beneath the fabric of your dress.

The sensation of your soft silk like skin beneath his fingertips caused the hairs to stand on the back of his neck.

He slowly glides his hand up your thigh, forcing his hand between your tightly clenched thighs and curling his middle and index finger to glide along the newly wet fabric of your underwear.

He bit at his lip harshly in restraint, fighting the urge to ravish you right there.

“You will not sit in your drenched underwear during mass, you will take these off and leave them in my drawer. Then you will join me in waiting for others to arrive.”

He reluctantly pulled his hand away as he stood up, stepping away from you to allow you to follow his instructions.

You submissively obeyed, reaching beneath the fabric of your dress for your underwear before hooking your thumbs into the lace waistband to pull them down your thighs and calf’s.

He watched as they drop to your ankles, the visible wet stain of your arousal made him shudder.

He forced himself to look away, leaving you to pick them up and place them where he’d requested.

He wasn’t sure how he would focus during mass knowing that you were to sit bare amongst your family, but the thought was delightful.

[princessbrunette]

boxer!rafe had his anger mostly under control. thats what the boxing was for. but no one’s perfect. there were times he’d slip up.

he’d developed the knack for being able to ignore the other men in the locker room at the fighting grounds. he had his own upcoming fights to worry about, his own family to feed — whilst he used to be a sucker for a good argument, it had become the least of his concerns. they knew that about him, therefore they knew what would get under his skin.

“ayeee, it’s pretty boy!” one jeered as he stepped into the locker room — sore, toned body trudging over to his usual locker to retrieve his stuff so he could get out and go home to you. he was used to the nickname, infact it had even been self proclaimed at some points on the ring. girls held up ‘pretty boy’ signs during his fights, upon winning multiple fights and climbing the ranks he was gifted a chain with ‘pretty motherfucker’ engraved on the pendant. it was nothing new to him.

the chatter continues in the room amongst the men, and he figures he can let his guard down now, knowing they wouldn’t be testing him. they’d heard of his rage through stories, rumours that he’d been in jail for killing a cop in his past. it intrigued people, wanting to see how far they could push him. just as the cameron boy is getting his gym bag together to leave, he’s brought into the conversation once more.

“right? i wanna start seein’ some newer faces in the crowd i’m gettin’ tired of the regulars.” the same douche that addressed rafe when he entered speaks, eyes flickering over to the younger guy in amusement. “hey cameron, got anyone you can bring to spice things up around here? how ‘bout that pretty wife of yours? maybe she can motivate me before the fight—”

he doesn’t get to finish his taunt, before in a flash rafe had pinned him the locker with a crash, doors rippling and padlocks clattering. he presses his arm into the man’s neck, jaw clenched and vein popping out his neck.

“fuck you say? huh? nah, go ‘head repeat yourself.” rafe threatens, practically growling through bared teeth at the man. the other fighter goes to shove him back, but the cameron man is unmovable. if there’s one thing he doesn’t play about, it’s you.

rafe stumbles back slightly, but it’s only to wind up and slam his fist into the man’s face when he dared to smile. the other men start to get involved now, trying to pull rafe off but it only made him angrier. “think that’s funny? yeah?” he yells, and punches the man again, the time harder. his skin cracks and blood splashes onto his knuckles as he continues. he knew this was going to result in at least a week suspension from the gym, and that was with the gym owner being fond of rafe. he shoves himself off eventually, the man groaning on the floor in pain.

full of adrenaline, rafe picks up his bag and heads to leave, but not without spitting out a venomous “lemme hear you talk about my wife again. i’ll kill you. a’ight?”

he’s not proud of himself by the time he’s arrived home. it’s been a while since he’d gotten angry like that, violent outside of professional boxing. it’s so soft in your shared home when he arrives, and it makes him feel ashamed. it smelled like you’d been baking fresh cookies, the house clean just for him. it melts him, because sometimes he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still the monster he used to be. something that didn’t belong here.

he stops in the doorway to see you napping on the couch, looking delicate like a petal that had fallen off a flower, drifted in the wind and had just landed there perfectly. the small bump that had only just begun to show through your dress strains ever so slightly against the material and he scratches at his cheek. he shouldn’t be acting like this. not when fatherhood is approaching.

he busies himself off to the shower, hoping to wash the day from him. not long later, the sound of the water woke you — and you appear in the bathroom quietly, stripping yourself of your clothes and climbing in behind him. you press a soft kiss to the centre of his back because you could tell it’s tense, a telltale sign that he’d had a rough day. you don’t need to speak, not yet anyway as he relaxes slightly at your touch — feeling your tits press against him from behind and your swollen tummy when you lean forward. he lets out a long sigh, head running beneath the water.

hugging him from behind, you peer round to see his bruised knuckles. he hadn’t come home with those for a long time, he’d usually wrap them if he was going to spar or whatever.

“what happened?” you can’t help yourself, curiosity getting the better of you.

he presses his lips together, caught. he doesn’t wanna tell you what they said, make you uncomfortable. it’s not necessary and it would only make him mad all over again. he runs his knuckles under the water, ridding them of any of the left over dried blood that he wasn’t sure was his.

“ah i uh… i lost my temper… a little. s’not important.” he huffs, peeking briefly over his shoulder at you. you don’t question it, knowing it was potentially a sore subject. he feels another kiss on his back.

“s’okay.” you’re so nurturing, so gentle. your hands slide around his hip bones, caressing the veined skin on his lower stomach above his cock. the appendage jumps once realising what you were after. maybe it didn’t take long because of the soft kisses and your body pressing to his, paired with the day he’d had — but he’s hard in no time when you start palming at him.

he tips his head back under the water, the droplets racing down his toned back and shoulders as you slowly tug at him from behind, doing your best to relax him. “s’okay rafe.” you whisper once more. “you’re home now.”

he certainly was.

[lifeonmarz-blog]

What I think of Lilith through the houses

Both polarities blended together, Enjoy!

Sb: pls take it with a grain of salt if it doesn’t apply let it fly.

1st: dogmatic views, do as I say not as I do, attracted to the bad boy/bad girl, relationships with promiscuous people, openly opinionated, body dysmorphia, magnetic aura, captivating presence, traditional views when it benefits them, competitive, strong work ethic, very attractive but it may be hard for them to see it, money is power and they know this, dark humor, gets people to open up easily, self imposed restrictions, victim mentality.

2nd: jealous co workers, insecure without money, focused on long term success, thinking outside the box, quirky, illusions around upbringing, favorite child, should embrace new perspectives //possibilities, attracted to the outcasted, can feel pressured to help others, victims of betrayal, takes shortcuts to get what they want, responsible with money, loves the idea of love but not the commitment, pressure to perform well.

3rd: secret teller, uses sex for power, uses communication for power, odd sex appeal, unique style, entrepreneurial mindset, self motivated, driven, spiritual blessings through others, easily adaptable, loved by women, team player, liar, familiar with the underworld from a young age, ambitious, fast thinker, prefers to be coupled up, questions others authenticity.

4th: self driven, “been there done that” vibe, quirky sense of humor, untrustworthy mother, misuse of sexual energy, confusion around self identity, jumping from relationship to relationship, doesn’t know when to let a relationship go, generous in relationships, charming with their words, idealistic about love, passionate, cold demeanor, manifest desires easily, persistent with what they want, right place right time, hard worker, likes/requires routine, attracts/likes conflict, dramatic relationships, impulsive, loves adventure, victim of betrayal, liar, self destructive, possessive, comes across as intimidating.

5th: charming, witty, self destructive, overly emotional, lashing out, makes friends with common interest easily, convincing, attracts money easily, make it and get it right back mentality, lacks patience, needs to do things in moderation, anxiety, worry, fear of the unknown, depression, needs to find peace within themselves, overly serious, scattered brain, life of the party, big personality, attracted to big personalities, lives outside the box, always standing out in the crowd.

6th: requires stability, shame around upbringing, lacks self esteem, thinks too much before acting, hasty careless movements, overworks the body, running from thoughts, overwhelms themselves, feels they have something to prove, intellectual, restricts sexual desire, attachments issues, addicted to ideas/belief systems, reliable, helpful, resourceful, natural leader, feels they have big burdens, should let go and be more carefree.

7th: feels misunderstood, values family dynamics, strength, disconnected from others, integrity questioned, do what they want not what their told, distorted view of family and relationships, strong intuition, divine feminine, nurturing spirit, frequent conflicts, lacking accountability, escaping justice, partners that bring out the worst, popularity, unique voice, charming, very opinionated, sexually explorative, calm before the storm.

8th: relationships that alter view on sex, emotionally manipulative, self critical, overworks themselves, always stressed about time, too much on their plate, overwhelm, self sufficient, luxury, abundance, doesn’t rely on others to make things happen, can see their plans through, should flow more with life, slow down and take your time, receives a lot of gifts, also gives a lot too, gift of gab, dark humor, sneaky vibe.

9th: comes off quiet but really a social butterfly, confident, independent, determined, chooses partners that talk disrespectful to them, lacks self discipline, easily unmotivated, changes paths often, loves podcast, sweet words, jack of all trades master at none, trust your intuition, many rebirths, it’s okay to be the student, don’t fear growth, insecure about how their perceived, feeling misvalued in relationships, hard time feeling ready enough”.

10th: home body but equally likes being outside, big family lots of kids, multiple baby daddy’s/baby mamas, impulsive decisions, gets a lot of attention from their outfits, defending your beliefs to the public, advocating social issues, underdog, very intelligent, people come to them for advice, secret relationships, weighs the risk vs reward, doesn’t value others opinions, brushes issues off, truth seeker/ truth teller, would rather work alone, loves love, attracts a lot of haters and secret fans, always partnered up or wants to be, gets lied to a lot, so much potential, generous, loves to be a provider, doing the same thing and expecting different results, strong emotional world.

11th: inflexible, likes to dominate others, would benefit from connecting to Mother Earth, jealousy, overwhelmed by responsibilities, loves to be in a relationship, creative, doesn’t invest time properly, wasteful with their energy, sharing wealth, attract fake friends, friends are very different from them, very confident demeanor, don’t get along with women, very convincing, two sides like a Gemini, a lot of love to give hopeful it’s not being misused.

12th: reserved, quite but a social butterfly, courageous, loves learning new things especially darker subjects, wants their voice heard on a public forum, should take time to be alone to hear your own voice and strength intuition, fear of change, escaping at the nick of time, learning to develop personal beliefs, people pleasing, strong will, persistent, misuse of power, direct, quiet power, reads the room.

[bunnwich]

Gifts (Leona Kingscholar)🧡

Leona muses on the gift you leave him for Valentine's Day. (Based on the official merch twst 2024 Valentine gift messages)

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Yuu/MC!Reader (Can be framed as platonic or romantic)

Words: 936 words, Leona's POV

Notes: Wanted to challenge myself to do something short and sweet in a few hours and was inspired to improve upon yet another dry official Leona gift message response.

--

Gifts.

They came easy over the years, like plucking an oversweet tart from a dessert tray. He was disliked, feared even, but lucky for him easy on the eyes — and still a prince to occasionally bow and scrape to. So many folks over the years were eager to oblige him and follow the traditions of the Sunset Savanna. Idolize the royals; the divine oligarchy. He was simply “lucky” enough to be born under that umbrella. That’s all.

Those gifts and attention fed him for a while, but if he was being honest, some part of him always remained hungry. 

After all, shiny trinkets were nothing like a dusty old book or the heady cedar smell of a well-used chess set. What was the value of pretty baubles to sit on shelves of his empty room or clothes that cost more than some folks' houses?

Pillars of sand.

Was it so damn pathetic and vapid to want something not given by his family's twisted obligations or plucked from the hands of a quivering servant?  No games. No more ulterior motives. 

Wishful thinking, maybe or a childish habit that he had dumped in the trash, like all those boxes of sweets that long went bitter on his tongue.

He reminded himself that others had suffered much worse than not being doted on in their preferred way. However, this reality failed to take away his distaste for each and every gift. Tch. How many times would he have to snuff out that damn sentimentality that he had been so “lucky” to inherit?

Leona’s eyes fell upon the small bottle vial in his palm and the wooden lion tag attached, tied carefully around the bottle. It had been nestled on the corner of his bed when he returned from Spelldrive practice this morning, all nice and wrapped in shiny paper.

His mouth crinkled and a small sound rumbled from his chest without his permission. Relief of some kind maybe. It had been one of the first gifts he received that was not for his birthday or from his family.

A friendly gesture or…somethin’ more insidious?

To think, someone who came to this world with nothin’ goin��� outta their way to get him somethin’...special.

But, “friends” weren’t something he kept. Instead, he had a collection of starry-eyed froshes, classmates, rivals, those few worthy of his respect. And then there was Ruggie of course but, would he be around if not for the understanding they had come to? Best not to dwell on it now.

Leona chuckled watching the amber liquid swish around the curved glass like liquid gold. How bold of them to choose a scent for him of all things. Beastfolk were sensitive to ‘em and he especially. But, they had been the brash and precocious type ever since they came to this school. Always skipping steps to pull off an advanced move.

Regardless of how big of a crowd he’d ever have cheerin’ at one of his games or how many brilliant trinkets he’d be gifted, nothing beat his chosen audience of one. Who, even after seeing firsthand all the grimy parts of him...still havin’ the audacity to stick around so long.

His eyes fell over to the chessboard at the corner of his desk. Brave little creature indeed, and brimming with Savanaclaw tenacity. A little pawn that made it to the other side of the board, ready to be crowned.

No way they knew the implication of such a small gesture, how important scents were to beastfolk, not that he was one for tradition, of course. Still, He brought the bottle to his nose for the umpteenth time as he leaned forward on his elbows. In an odd way, it reminded him of the gardens back at home when it rained, all those lonely hours pouring over books and chess games. 

Alone but…if he concreted enough, he was able to catch a whiff of the oil where their fingers touched the glass. Yes, in their note they had mentioned that this scent reminded them of him, but to his nose it was missing something. A key complementing note. A missing piece. 

The scent of a little herbivore turned into a formidable beast that he couldn’t get out of his head.

His brow furrowed as he glanced over at the small pile of notes, discarded by his boots. Then he tried again this time with more wit.

"Hey– Allow me to thank you for your generous gift. Heh. I can’t believe you actually picked out a halfway-decent fragrance. I might actually keep this. I thought about sending you something in return if the mood struck me, but this thank you note should do the job just fine, right?"

Leona kept it short and sweet. He knew they two were past formalities, but it was amusing to still play the game a little. He had been waiting for them to approach him in such a bold way, and finally, he had been rewarded for his saintly patience. Still, he wasn’t ready to show his hand yet, well-

He allowed sentimentality to win this time and flipped over the note, scrawling a little something extra for their eyes only. 

“P.S. If you were gonna treat your lion so nice…the least ya could do is make good on such bold intentions and show him some proper attention.”

He chuckled again as he let the paper slip from his fingers, finally satisfied with what he had come up with. Honestly, it didn't matter much what he wrote. Maybe he was becoming sentimental in his “old” age but he knew...that they would always find each other in the middle.

It was their move again.

Besides, it was only fair that he repay them properly. Etiquette and all that.

[soleilchanson]

This is part 2 of the arranged marriage AU with Nanami where the two of you struggle with intimacy.

Part 3

You both learn to cuddle in this one. This is a bit long so grab some snacks and a warm blanket.

Masterlist

-•-

After that fateful night of receiving flowers from your husband (personally and not through his family for a proposal), you had start warming up to him. You found out that he enjoyed mundane things like reading, walking at the beach, and most of all, bread. He learned about a lot of your likes and dislikes too.

Gradually, you found that it was easier to make conversation with him while having dinner so the two of you started having all your meals together. You’d talk about your work and what unruly things your coworkers did to cross you and he’d add in his two cents about them being incompetent. The relationship started to feel more friendly. He was glad his wife was talking to him about something other than the weather!

He also had a new desk moved into his study so you could work alongside him rather than stay holed up in your room. Your desk was adjacent to his (so he could look up to stare at you whenever he wanted).

He started noticing all the little things about you, like the way you liked doing your hair, your favorite spot on the couch, what kind of music you’d hum while doing chores. He was slowly chipping away at the ice and was enjoying every minute of it.

To be loved is to be known. He didn’t know how to show you that he was becoming more and more interested in you without displaying physical touch or being afraid of saying something that you may not be comfortable with. So he’d buy you gifts and try to spend time with you as much as possible. His gifts would be simple yet meaningful, like a record player for your room so you could listen to all your favorite tunes and pilates equipment for your home gym because you had been talking about how you wanted to work out but without leaving the house.

Your heart wasn’t letting you rest either. You started making him lunch for work and would write random notes along with it. It could be a fun fact or a simple motivational message. He would always thank you for them (and save them in a little box he has in his office). Sometimes he’d ask you more about the fact and how you learned about it.

Everything felt stable. It was like living with a best friend.

Until one day, you both were sitting next to each other while watching a horror movie. Separate blankets of course, but you were close enough for your knees to touch while sitting criss cross. A particularly scary scene came up and you jumped, holding on to the sleeve of Nanami’s sweater. He was alarmed, not because you screamed in fear but because you held on to him for comfort! “Can I hold your bicep? I’m sorry, this is just a little too scary.”

He could simply nod. No words or thoughts could form when he felt the warmth of your body against his arm. Your breath would occasionally land on his chest from how you were unintentionally leaning on him and it was driving him insane. Normally things like this would give him sensory overload but with you? Gosh, was it a good feeling. He always thought that that men who bragged about being protective were strange and were trying to prove themselves for no reason but they weren’t wrong. Knowing that you felt safe with him made him feel like a true man. Like he could run into the sunset and scream his lungs out.

After the movie was over you were still shaken up. “Is everything alright?” He looked down at you. You still had his arm in your grip. “Um, no, I’m still a little freaked out from the movie which is weird cause I’m a grown adult. Why am I scared of such movies anyway?” You smack your hand on your forehead. “It’s alright. It was a little too scary than what I’m used to as well.” He then paused, as if, he wanted to say something but he couldn’t. You looked up at him expectantly. “Since you’re scared, would you… like to sleep in my room? And I’m saying this in the most respectful way possible.” He sheepishly smiled as he asked.

Sleep? In the same bed as Nanami? Scratch that, sleep in the same bed as your HUSBAND? Of course, especially when he has been so sweet with flowers, gifts, and even comforting you through a strange movie. “Yes, I’d like that very much.” You whispered. You were afraid that if you spoke any louder you’d be breaking your bubble of comfort with him. “Then, I’ll make the necessary preparations.” He immediately gets up to go straighten up his room (and switch on his diffuser).

By necessary preparations, you didn’t know that he meant getting you a separate blanket and having a divider of pillows between the two of you. This was the opposite of what you wanted. You were still scared and needed some sort of physical touch to be reassured that you weren’t going to be harmed.

“Nanami, are you awake?” You whispered into the dimly lit room. The moonlight through the window acted as a natural night lamp. “I’m up. Do you need anything?” He responded swiftly. “No, everything is great except for one thing.” You turn towards him and remove the pillow between your heads so can make eye contact. “When you suggested sleeping in the same bed I thought we’d be holding hands because I’m scared.”

“Oh.” Was all Nanami could muster up. You were tense. Did you ask for too much? Maybe you should’ve asked his permission before requesting for it. Consent is key. But all your thoughts are silenced when Nanami simply grabs your hand and pulls you close. “Th-Thanks.” Your heart was racing a mile a minute. Nothing really happened after that though. Pure silence engulfed the room again, except for the occasional rustling of the sheets while you moved around.

“Y/N?” Your husband broke the silence. You hummed in response. “Do you know how to cuddle?” What an odd request, not unwelcome but definitely strange as Nanami never really initiated any sort of physical touch with you. It was mostly you either accidentally touching him or squeezing his bicep before work. You were too scared to admit that you had never been in a relationship before. What would he think? He’s a handsome man, so there’s no way he had never been in a relationship before. Maybe he never cuddled with his exes. He did tell you that he used to be very particular about his personal space.

“Yeah, I do.” You said, your knowledge from reading romance novels was finally being used. “Can you teach me? You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.” But you turned to your side so you could properly face him. You let go of his hand, missing the warmth provided by them. “I’ll teach you an easy one first. It’s called spooning. Since you’re a beginner, I’ll let you be the little spoon and I’ll be the bigger spoon.” Nanami snorted at your description. But obliged. “Alright, what does the little spoon do?”

You then instructed him to turn, making his back face you and then you wrapped your arms around him and leaned your forehead against his back. “So this is what spooning is. I think I’d much rather prefer being the big spoon. I want to be able to protect you from that ghost in the movie.” You giggle at his words and oblige. When his arms wrap around you, it feels as if everything has fallen into place. The world is in order and you both don’t need anyone else but each other.

Nanami is in ultimate peace with you in his arms. The warmth given to him by your body being pressed against him is a feeling like no other. It felt right. Like you two were meant to be all along. His heart raced at the thought of other cuddling positions. However, a sense of jealousy rose in him as he thought about who you might’ve experienced this with first. Alas, he can still make new memories with you so he comforts himself to sleep.

-•-

Reader and Nanami will kiss in the next one I PROMISE 😭

[no-144444]

Hi! I love your work and I was wondering if you could do 💜 with max? Like they've been secretly dating for a few years and he wins world champion and just kisses reader before he gets on the podium and everyone is shocked

thank you! ily girl

----------------

----------------

congratulations- m.verstappen (no.1/no.33)

----------------

summary: max shows the whole world something new after his fourth world championship win.

pairing: max verstappen (no.1/no.33) x publicist! fem! reader

----------------

Max was a four-time World Champion. This season had been difficult, but you’d been with him, standing through it all (even if you weren’t shown to the public). He loved you so much, and he owed everything to you. You were his motivation, his drive. You made him want to be better, not because he had to win, but because he wanted to. You’d shown him love, real, true love. You’d shown him that love wasn’t conditional on his performance in the car, that you loved him for who he was. You’d shown him that him not being number 1 wasn’t the end of the world. You’d helped him unlearn all the bullshit his dad had put in his head all those years ago. 

God, he loved you so fucking much. 

As he jumped out of the car, his team cheered, but all he wanted was you. Was it a conflict of interest to date your client as a publicist? Maybe. Did either of you care? Nope. 

He rushed over to the gate, the team ready with their arms open, but he wanted you. He celebrated as he searched the crowd for you, but he couldn’t see you. Before he knew it, he was being whisked away by reporters, and you weren’t by his side. Weird. 

He answered all the stupid questions they wanted him to, giving manicured answers you’d gone over with him last night, and smiled at all the cameras they asked him to. And he still didn’t see you. Strange. 

It finally came time for the podium, and just before he walked out onto the terrace, he felt someone grab onto his race suit around his waist. He followed the hand he knew so well, and there you were. Ina beautiful navy dress with your hair back, and a guilty smile on your face. 

“And where have you been?” he chuckled, holding you closer with his hands around your waist. 

“I had to grab something,” you shrugged. 

“And what might that be?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Your gift, duh,” you jokingly rolled your eyes. “Open it.”

You handed him over a small gift box and he smiled as he started to open it. Inside was a beautiful silver bracelet with your initials on it and a message that read “love you forever, your y/n.”

And he could’ve cried right then and there. He looked up at your expectant eyes and chuckled. “I love you so much.”

You smiled back and pressed your lips to his cheek, hugging him close for one moment more. “You’d better go-”

And with that, Max grabbed your hand and practically dragged you onto the stage with him, kissing you in front of millions. You stood there shocked for a few seconds, then kissed him back, smiling as his arms wrapped around you. 

You pulled away chuckling and ran back inside, half giddy, and half thinking about how to explain this to Christian. Oh well, maybe you’d leave that part up to Max.

----------------

----------------

navigation for my blog:) (masterlist)

[russellsppttemplates]

I just found this really funny so i had to request it but Pascale keeps asking you and Charles when you’re gonna have a child and one day you tell her a Child can be his championship gift and fast forward like 4 months after charles win a championship (for the sake of this blurb) and they tell Pascale and Pascale is like to reader “Ahh it really was a championship gift” and reader getting all flustered

Cw: reader is pregnant, mild allusions to smut

"Go to uncle Charles, Céline!", Pascale encouraged the little girl as she walked closer to him, landing her hands on his legs as she balanced herself, "Good job, princess, you're growing up so fast!", he smiled.

"You could be the one to give the family another baby - just saying", she winked at her son.

"I'll give him a championship baby", you teased them, kissing Charles' cheek before playing with your niece's hands, "a little extra motivation", you whispered on his ear.

Truth was, you had been trying for a baby, but so far, there had been no signs of a little baby Leclerc joining you in the near future. It was still early days, so you weren't too worried, but it seemed your husband took your promise to heart as he whisked you into the hotel room, "are we going to get our championship baby, amour?", he whispered on your ear as he kissed your jaw, "I'm thinking about all the ways we're going to make a baby tonight, Y/N", he smirked against your skin.

.

"We have some news to tell, and we wanted you to be the first one to know about them", you smiled as you gave a small box to your mother in-law, containing an ultrasound picture of the one you had the day before and a small card pretending to be the baby greeting Pascale herself.

"We're having another baby?", she gasped, "Oh, chérie, congratulations!", she said as she pulled you into a hug, kissing your cheek softly before she moved to Charles, congratulating him too.

"How far along?", she asked, "just over three months", you blushed, knowing she would be able to do the math.

"The baby really is a championship gift, hm?", she smirked, leaving you to feel flustered as you rubbed your bump.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[hypertechnica]

i’m going to make fiddauthor art with fidds wearing his wedding ring and you are NOT going to like it

big obligatory banner that says “cheating is bad don’t do it i just like stories with relationship drama”

closeted, internally homophobic gay men who are married with kids has to be the trope i’m weakest to. no person involved is escaping the despair brought on by a relationship built on a well intentioned, desperate lie, born out of a desire to be normal and good

he WANTED to love her so fucking badly. he felt no ill will towards her and he loves their son more than words can say. he thought the attraction, the way she felt about him, would come with time. it didn’t. he doesn’t want to hurt her yet was doomed to from the start, and he’s truly, truly sorry. this does not absolve him of anything whatsoever and she has the full right to never want to speak with him again. he lied! he pretended to feel the same when he never once felt anything but platonic affection! he’s been in love with someone else this whole fucking time! and their kid… he’s caught in the middle of it all, too young to understand why his father would hurt his family like this.

and then he disappears and never comes back. imagine you’re 5 and your dad goes to the middle of the woods with his buddy for science shit, all of the sudden your parents are yelling on the phone and signing papers, and then he goes MIA. for years.

imagine your husbands “buddy” was the one he was thinking of all this time, not you, never you. and the first chance he gets to run away from you, he takes, and you should have been suspicious by the rushed frenzy of it all, the phone calls getting shorter and shorter until it fizzles to nothing. he forgot to get you a christmas gift. he hand-made him two. there has to be something wrong with you, it has to be your fault. you wish you married the man he becomes when he’s in his presence.

he folded when you started questioning him directly - he’d been to neurotic to ever be a good liar. you thought he was the one. he thought you were nice.

by the time the divorce is finalized he’s different in a wrong way. confused, angry, forgetful, insane - if the giant homicidal robot pterodactyl you’ve been harassed by is any indication. (he’s had a bad habit of building homicidal robots when he’s mad since they met -engineer things- but it was never directed at her - thankfully it never actually does anything) he’s clearly abusing drugs - you’d feel bad if he hadn’t abandoned you with the burden of explaining why your son can’t see his father anymore.

it’s a rotten bit of your soul, but time heals you. you move on and no longer think of him. trust in your career. find a man who truly loves you with no motives attached. raise your kid to be a good man. and in a fashion not unlike shakespearean dramatic irony, this makes him move to gravity falls to find and take care of his father. you couldn’t care less what hee doing now, but damn it, it’s his father, what is the kid supposed to do? but its futile- he appears to have no remorse, hell, no memory of the incident in the first place. (this isn’t his fault but how are they supposed to know that?) so he grows bitter and cold just like his mother used to be.

imagine that.

all over a mans inability to do anything but live in denial. to force himself to live in a box and pine like a dying man over the right one at the wrong time, destined to crash and burn. to take denial to a new level- a cult, brain damaging radiation, a total ego death - just to take the edge off. take off that damn wedding ring

[housecow]

of course i’m fat. not a lot of people are lucky enough to feel this way about food—having a constant, lurking urge to eat until you get to the point you physically cannot fit anymore is not normal.

but god, it’s wonderful. it’s so easy to lose yourself in a 3lb tin of chocolate coins. they were a gift because of some sale at costco and you know they’re supposed to last a long time but they’re just so… satisfying.

unwrapping each one becomes a game: two pieces of gold foil balled up and hidden in the pull out drawer of the bedside table. then, i slip the piece of chocolate in my mouth. it’s cheap kind of chocolate but that doesn’t stop my enjoyment. because after this one, i know there’s another waiting. and then another. and then another. the pile of gold foil takes up most of the space in the drawer.

that was the first time i ever got over full without even meaning to. the book was too good, i was too focused on the words to notice just how much of the candy i’d consumed, and it was just too easy.

so that’s what started it all, the first time is hard to forget. you’re full and aching but your mind still craves that feeling. the sugar and the motion of eating that just became so familiar. it takes a week after all 3lbs are gone to stop the craving, but by then you already know that if you just have one more bag of chocolates it’s going to feel so, so good…

i chased that feeling. my natural state was constant distraction, constant food, and nothing else. netflix was always playing in the background, my 3ds had animal crossing new leaf loaded with 300 hours already logged, and a radio was constantly going. and the snacks never stopped. one pack of oreos, the empty container stashed in a dresser afterwards. a bag of doritos, a box of brownie bites, a tray of tres leches meant to feed 10 people. apple turnovers warmed until they were gooey. so much cake—knowing that decadence was less than $10 away made getting over 200lbs incredibly easy.

the cravings drove everything. is it really my fault i ended up this heavy? i shouldn’t feel this way about food. i shouldn’t want to feel myself get heavier, getting out of breath struggling to walk up a hill shouldn’t make me wet. my belly inching closer to the steering wheel should be terrifying, being that close to losing independence shouldn’t be motivating me to eat. but it does and my 290lb body shows the proof, because who could resist that?

why would i resist that? people hate themselves for this. the more i eat, the more i love it all. the more i can’t stop. it’s just a matter of time before someone takes advantage of this—i was made to eat and everybody knows.

[yourladyem]

The Three Men in Lydia's Life: All About Connections

Richard: "We made a great kid."

Made a great kid. Thought it was an odd saying instead of they have a great kid. Shows he wasn't very much involved in Astrid's life.

Doesn't try to make a connection with his family even when he sees the riff growing between his ex-wife and their daughter. Doesn't do anything even after he sees them again. Goes back to work and doesn't help them in any way afterward. Doesn't tell Astrid how to stay in contact with him even though she has Lydia's gift. Basically like he wasn't around as much as Astrid thinks he was. Not a lot of family pictures in that album she found. The "free spirit" with a dissolved connection who seemed to care more about his causes than his family.

Wasn't really around.

Rory: "It's like we have the same stupid little heart."

Well, we all know what Rory is. Connection through manipulation and trauma. Pulls at the emotional heart strings.

He degrades their so-called connection by using the word "stupid" like there's no seriousness to their relationship or what they feel isn't important enough to be taken seriously but pretends to be serious about her in order to marry her. And we all know the real reason why. More like manipulated teenage puppy love.

Thinks the person they are manipulating is extremely stupid and tried to separate their victim from everyone else.

But like many who've been through similar relationships, the abused is usually the last person to figure it out or they don't possess the strength to leave out of fear of never being enough. But sometimes it takes a certain person for you to listen and see the truth. Enter Beetlejuice.

Childish and selfish.

Beetlejuice: "Lydia and I have a psychic connection."

Never left her. Never lied to her. Never lied about his motives. Never tried to manipulate Astrid. Always kept his word. Seems to want to be a husband and father. Romances her and let her go. Didn't get jealous of Richard and tried to insert himself between him and Lydia during their closure.

Bettered himself with his own business and was devoted to Lydia for 30 years. Seemed to always be talking about her to his employees and maybe others who would listen.

Exposed Rory and knew his true intentions a long time ago. Gets excited when Lydia sees him (even if she is absolutely terrified every time).

Left her alone while she got over Richard's death before approaching her again especially when Rory entered the picture.

The picture on his desk. I don't think Richard had any pictures of his family anywhere including in his little Hobbit hole. He never pulls one out of his pocket and says he keeps it to remember them and it's the one he had on him when he died. None of that. Beetlejuice steals a picture of Lydia and proudly displays it on his desk for decades.

The Hawaiian sequel had him constantly looking at her picture that was always on him. Richard had nothing.

Literally gives her his heart when Lydia gave away hers to two other men who didn't cherish it.

Doesn't push Lydia's family away. He includes them and helps them. He's got a soft spot for that family.

Even after everything, Lydia feels more comfortable and herself around him than the other two. She's bolder. And might even see him as a friend in some ways. She trusts him more. She didn't question Beetlejuice when Rory started spilling the truth. She didn't see the Truth Serum being injected into Rory. How did she know it was the truth and not a trick on BJ's part to get rid of him so he could marry her? Because in the end she knows the one person she's wanted out of her life is one person she can trust the most. He gives her the boxing glove to finish the job on her own. He knows her strength and is even surprised by how much she has when she punches Rory. He's proud of her and wants her to fight for herself and speak for herself.

Always there for her even when she doesn't see it.

He is honest with her when Rory wasn't.

He is devoted to her when Richard wasn't.

He is proud of her when the others weren't or didn't show it.

He listened to her when the others didn't.

He respected her when the others didn't.

He cherished her when the others didn't.

He defended her when the others didn't.

He protected her when the others didn't.

He tried when the others didn't.

He loves her when the others don't.

[cherllyio]

The Nine Headed Beast's most interesting line is not what you think it is (Season 5 Spoilers)

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

When i watched season 5, one line stood out to me:

Nine: "It's just that someone... is about to win"

MK: "Win...What-?"

Nine: "Good luck MK. You, and the others will need it. After all, you... have opened Pandora's box."

Now, why did this stand out to me?

Well, first of all, because Pandora's box is a greek myth, which is strange to mention in a show that is all about chinese mytholgy.

So, there is clearly something here, that the creators wanted us to notice. And that "something" I found.

As you probaly know Pandora's box (or jar originally), is about Pandora, the first human created by the gods.

She was gifted a box by the gods, that contained all the evils of the world, and was told not to open it.

She, sadly though, opened it, releasing it all out into the world. Explaining why evil exists in the world, in the first place.

BUT, there is one thing that most people dont know/ forgot.

Because there was one last thing that didnt get out, before she shut the box again: Hope.

This acutally makes a lot of sense in the state of the show right now:

The universe almost got destroyed, MK bassicaly died, and he also used the TIGHTNING SPELL on Wukong.

In other words, we defiently need some hope in the next season.

There is also the fact that there are two ways to look at hope in Pandora's box:

You can view it as a bad thing, aka that hope makes us blind to the real world (which charactheres like Nüwa and LBD seems to view it as)

OR You can view it as a good thing, aka that hope motivates us to contiue to fight, even when everything seems to be in despair (which most of the main cast follows)

And what does this all mean? I have no idea-

Yes- I know... kind of a weird way to end a theory

But honestly this is more of a detail I noticed, for you guys to ponder over, instead of theory.

Because i really I think there is something here (maybe even something that could connect us back to that "someone" who is about to win)

But there is still SO MANY mysteries we got from season 5, we have yet to understand.

So... hope this detail can help! (and hope your sanities are doing ok after season 5 :)

Mine surely isn't :D

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him; Non NRC

Summary: Yandere Neige/Chenya/Rollo/Najma x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

CW: these are probably the tamest of the crew, yandere content, probably ooc but we know so little about these guys, Rook's an ass, gaslighting/manipulation, restraints, Rollo's darling is on their last straw, Stockholm syndrome

A/N: I was gonna include Najma, but she's so pretty, she could do whatever she wanted, and I'd be like, "whatever you say, babygirl." Anyways...I did not include her here...for reasons....

Edit: I am a dumbass. I figured out how to write a Najma part.

Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Staff

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

You'd gotten an invitation to Rook's estate in the Sunset Savannah. 

Rook had basically become your son's godfather, though you had to doubt his motives. At first that is.

You'd been suspicious. Of course Rook would want to raise up the next Neige le Blanche. Your son was the spitting image of him, but with the added “bonus” of having your “radiant, glowing eyes.” You couldn't help but worry that Rook was helping you because he wanted to be the one to help polish and prepare the one who would grow up to be the fairest of them all.

Your suspicions had faded over time, as he seemed to be taking a hands off approach, opting to send money, buy food and clothes, and play pretend dad if someone asked questions. He'd visit twice a year, expressing his excitement to simply play fairy godmother to the boy.

Then one evening, long after your son had gone to sleep, you'd sat late into the night talking in front of Rook's grandiose fireplace. The both of you had inched closer and closer, until he'd taken your chin in his hand, and was whispering against your lips.

“I've always loved your eyes. I'd always hoped that it would be my son you'd share them with.”

You laughed dryly. “Perhaps in another universe, there's a boy who looks like Rook Hunt, who has my (e/c) eyes.”

“I hope that Rook treasures him as much as I treasure S/N and his parent. Perhaps you can make the transgression up to me, by allowing me to dote on you, and continue to help raise your son.”

It had been a night where, despite not having drunk anything, you'd felt intoxicated: on eachother, and the firelight, and promises for the future. The next morning, you'd both agreed it was best to proceed as usual. Perhaps, as time went on, you would fall into something naturally. You weren't far off as it was.

A month later was when you'd gotten the invitation to his estate.

Your son was excited as always. And when you'd arrived, Rook had told you he had set up a tea party for you. The door opened, and a pair of arms were wrapped around you.

“Oh my sevens, thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

You stiffened, but didn't have time to react as Neige pulled away, and got down on your son's level, cupping his cheeks, and cooing softly. The static in your ears was preventing you from understanding anything he was saying. But you were the only one out of the four people in this room who was not smiling.

Neige pushed a lock of your son's hair back, and gave him a tearful smile, and you watched as your son skipped out the door. You felt Rook's hands on your shoulders, and it brought you back to earth. He gently directed you to one of the two chairs of the tea party you had been promised. You sat with a thud as Neige took the one across from you. 

You looked up at Rook, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He reached out, and gently brushed one away.

“Do not cry, Mon Trickster”

“Why?”

He smiled softly, yet still had the decency to look heartbroken.

“I cannot stand between soulmates. You can't let true love escape, for someone like me.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Just give him a chance. The beauty the two of you  create together is not something I can allow to get away.”

And then he left the room, shutting and locking the door behind him, as you stared at Neige, who practically had hearts in his eyes. He reached across the table and gently took your hand, stroking the back with his thumb.

“I missed you both. So much.”

You bit your lip unsure of what to say.

“Listen, I know I've made some mistakes, but,” he sniffled a little, “I want you back. Please, give us another chance.”

“I don't think-”

“I'm so much better than I was! I hurt you, I know, but I'm not that person anymore.” He got up from his chair, and knelt before you, pressing your hand to his heart.

“I swear on everything I love that I will never hurt you again. I'll be less controlling. I won't fly off the handle. I won't give you the silent treatment when you have to talk to someone who isn't me. Please.”

He knew his crimes. That was a pretty huge step. And as you stared into his pleading eyes, you remembered how much you used to love this man. He seemed so earnest. 

Maybe you could learn to love him again.

“And what if you're lying?” You asked, hoarsely.

“I'm not.”

“A-a trial period. That's all I'll agree to.”

He looked ecstatic as he jumped up, and wrapped his arms around you.

“Thank you. I promise to never make you cry again.”

You believed him. Just like you'd believed him everytime he made you pretty promises. 

But, maybe this time…

“Oh. Hey Y/N. Meow's it going?” Chenya said as though him shopping at the supermarket you always shopped at wasn't about to send you spiraling.

He reached past you, grabbing the bag of chips on the shelf next to you. You didn't dare move. Sudden movements made him excited. You'd sent your kids to grab something you'd forgotten in the frozen food aisle. You prayed it would take him a while to find it.

“Nya, you have nothing to be a scaredy cat about. I'm just here to shop,” he said with a wide smile, grabbing another several bags of chips. “See, I have a mew family. With an even more purrfect son.”

“Oh, well good for you, Chenya. I'm happy for you,” you said, quickly turning your cart so that you could run if you had to.

He looked at you, face blank. “So, I don't need you anymore.”

“That's so great. I'm happy for you,” you took a step back, trying to decide if you should call someone over, just in case he decided to be wild, just to fuck with you one more time.

“I'm glad. So leave me alone. M’kay?” He said, his face still uncharacteristically blank.

“Sounds good.”

You slowly walked out of the aisle. Once you were out of his eyeline, you ran for your son, and grabbed his hand.

“Forget it, baby, we're just gonna go home,” you whispered.

“But why?” He whined, begrudgingly putting the ice cream sandwiches, that you definitely didn't ask for, back on the shelf.

“I forgot my wallet at home,” you explained, but he didn't seem to be listening. He slowly pointed slightly behind you. Then you felt a tail wrap around your middle.

You looked over your shoulder, but as usual there was no body attached to the tail. You held back a groan. The only way to deal with him was to give him nothing.

“Nya, you were supposed to get insanely jealous!” He whined, and you felt his rough tongue lick up and down your neck, possessively.

“You said you were happy, and that you didn't need me,” you reminded, trying to subtly give your son the eye signal. You'd established it about a year ago. If you gave him that signal, it meant he had to get a grown up to help. Chenya was too unpredictable, so you had to hope that if your son got away, he would actually get help, or he'd be taken care of by a family far away. He turned on his heel, ready to walk, not run, down the aisle, when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

Chenya 's face hovered above the both of you, clearly upset. 

“Where are you going? Bad kitties get bites,” he warned. Your son, who was not related to Chenya, unfortunately had the same feline features and instincts. Upon hearing that warning, his ears drooped, and he looked down at the floor, whimpering.

“Aw! So pwecious! Papa will forgive you!” The tail around you disappeared, as Chenya recorpperated himself before your son, happily squishing his cheeks, and nuzzling their noses.

“Uh, who are you?” Your son asked nervously, looking at you as though you'd have a logical answer.

“That's-”

“Didn't you hear the first time? I'm your papa!” Chenya giggled happily, as he squeezed your son in a hug.

“This man is scary,” he whimpered.

“Chenya, let's just have a chat-”

His eyes turned to you, and you couldn't fight back a gasp. The anger in his face was something you'd never seen before.

“No. No more chats. No more discussions. No more, ‘let’s take a break's’. We are going home right now.”

He floated over to you, his face less than a centimeter from yours. “And, this time, you are going to stay put. Or the baby kitten is gonna be all mine to raise. I don't think you'd like that very much.”

Your door shattered into a million pieces. And there he was, holding his staff, and looking very displeased with you.

He held out a hand, clearly expecting you to take it. 

“Come.”

You simply sat there, too shocked to even blink, let alone process the command. The fact that he'd found you, meant you were already fucked. Taking his hand would have lessened whatever “purification” punishment he had cooked up for you in your twelve year absence. But you were too shocked.

“How-”

“If you have enough brains to ask questions, then you know you should take my hand, and come home. Before I get angry.”

“We should talk about this-” you began, but cut yourself off as his eyes flashed angrily.

“You had plenty of chances to talk about it. But you chose to act like a child, and run away from your problems.” His staff started to glow, and you swore you saw fire in his eyes. “You have one last chance. Come.”

You stood slowly, knowing he wouldn't hesitate to burn your apartment to the ground, just to make a point.

“S/N is asleep in his room,” you said, taking a step in that direction.

“We're leaving him.”

“What!”

“He was supposed to teach you how to behave. Instead he caused you to be foolish, and run from me.”

“Wait, Rollo, you can't be ser-”

“The child is obviously a distraction. So, he has no use for us.” 

You stared at him, and then ran for your son's room. Rollo quickly caught you around the middle, dragging you towards the exit.

“You can't do this!” You shouted, trying to wrestle from his firm grip. “That's my son!”

“One of your neighbors will see the broken door, and take him in. He is not your son anymore.”

You screamed, and struggled, but, for some reason, none of your neighbors even opened their doors to investigate. He dragged you all the way to his car, no one stopping him. He threw you in, quickly tying you down, before beginning the drive back home.

You continued to scream at him, calling him inhuman, a monster, how dare he separate you from your son? How could he care so little? Your son looked like him, for hell's sake!

“I told you. That boy was a means to an end. And he failed at that end. So I have no use for him. And neither do you. You'll soon forget.”

You snapped at him, and he groaned.

“Oh, just shut up for five minutes,” he muttered, and you found you no longer had your voice.

Ooh, you were steaming. When you had your voice back, you'd let him have it. Then again, so would he. He'd  throw you straight into your punishment, which would probably get worse when he realized your son had been manifesting signs of magic, meaning you needed to be “cleaned”. 

But, at this moment, you realized something. 

If you had to kill this man to get your son back, you were pretty sure you now had the resolve to do it.

You hesitated a moment, before knocking on the front door. You heard shouting inside, then were greeted by Jamil opening the door. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes widening. Then he groaned, and rolled his eyes.

"Najma, you can relax now. They're back!" He shouted into the house. You winced as you heard her squeak. She came running for you, wrapping her arms around you and her son.

"You gotta start taking better care of your things," Jamil warned her.

"Shut up," she muttered into your neck.

"I'll go tell Kalim to call off the search party," Jamil mumbled, walking past the both of you.

"I'm sorry, baby," you whispered, tears springing to your eyes.

She pulled back, her face furious.

"What the hell, Y/N? You scared me half to death. Where did you go? Why did you leave?" She snapped.

You sniffled, more tears flooding your eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't know. I just got very scared for a moment. So I ran. I don't know why. I'm so so sorry."

She stared at you for a moment, before she sighed heavily.

"This may be partly my fault," she muttered, but you shook your head. How could this possibly be her fault? She was perfect!

She gently took your son from your arms. You reached back over to take him back, unsure why your stomach was turning, but she softly smiled at you.

"It's alright, Y/N. Come inside."

She walked in, and for some reason your feet felt like lead as you followed her.

"I know exactly what I did. It's not your fault, love," She smiled at you sweetly, but you were doubtful. Didn't you just run with your new son, filled with unspeakable terror, out of nowhere?

She laid your son in the basinet she'd gotten for the living room, then took a seat on the couch, tapping the space next to her. You quickly joined her, laying your head in her lap as she caressed your cheek.

"I thought you were far more adjusted, so I rushed us into the next step. You just weren't ready yet, and it clearly startled you. I'm sorry," she said, a regretful smile on her face.

"That's not true! I'm so ready. I love you and our son so much!"

Her eyes looked so sad, as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"You don't even know," she whispered forlornly, before perking back up. "But, we'll work it out. We're in it now, the only thing to do is move forward!"

You felt lulled under by her gentle caresses, drifting off into a nightmare filled sleep. The last thing you saw, was a bitter expression on her face. Not that you'd remember it when you woke up screaming. You never did.

[adoregojo]

mikage's 5 steps guide! - nagi.s

i missed writing for nagi... my loverboy.. also this writing style is so fun??? wth??? i need to write like this again. i can barely keep one eye open so if there's any typo, ignore pls pls.

warnings: some cussing ig?

nagi was never that charming.

'charming' couldn't even stand being a word in his dictionary to be honest, nagi truly had zero sense of romance within him. he was an actual brick-walled person when it came to these things, or anything of strong-emotions in particular, there was no thoughts behind those void eyes of his but a circle of: sleep, eat, go to work, eat again, play games, sleep, and repeat.

even back to his high school years, not once he recalls talking to a girl, let alone getting a girlfriend, that was something beyond out of his character. maybe there was a girl that confessed to him, he remembered on valentines day he got a letter saying that he should go to the school's roof. and he ended up leaving the poor girl hanging on the air till the sky was clean orange because he genuinely 'forgot', nagi then earned the title 'heartbreaker' for a year straight, he let it be since it was much of a hassle to keep on correcting them. not like his reputation was any better before.

so you could say that nagi wasn't that much of a company to have around, on the other hand was his friend, reo who was basically the opposite of nagi, if anything he was prince charming himself. those social skills were enough to befriend anyone on sight, he got the looks, money and attention was surrounding him 24/7.

and even if reo gather the earth power to try and motivate nagi would go down hill, every time he tried setting him on a date it's either gonna end up horrible or nagi using the excuse to go to the bathroom and vanish to the nowhere. what an asshole.

at some point, reo accept the fact that maybe he's friend will in fact die alone.

and things switched around when you came to the picture.

first it wasn't that hard to notice you, your desk was glued to him after all. it was weird when you would greet him every morning and wish him a good night when you left, no one ever did that to him before, he tends to ignore and ends up being ignored. it was nice, a little reminder that somone was seeing him, acknowledging him.

slowly, the walls between you two was falling apart with each introduction. when you would pat him from his little naps for lunch time, or when it was leaving time, then he would stare at your back until your figure disappeared with a last wave, staring at the door for a little too long, perhaps wishing for you to walk back in.. who said that?

it was getting worse, or better, not the best at analysing his feelings. but nagi found himself looking out for a glimpse of you around the office, he has no shame to admit that the world suddenly felt gloomy without your presence beside him.

maybe he raised his head a little too fast when you walked in, maybe not. but he mostly did.

then you would ramble about how your shitty neighbour refused to clean after his pets filth and you two had a screaming match for a while before realising you were late. the was the worst way to start a monday morning, so you closed your eyes shut, rubbed your forehead for a peace of mind. then you opened your eyes, a piece of your favourite snaked would magically appear on your table.

for some reason your eyes traveled to the white painted head, he was looking at the other side, avoiding your questionable gaze hoovering over him.

Mondays aren't so bad after all, you thought.

perhaps he did place it there, who knows. —but nagi just really didn't like seeing you glum.

possibly, did he grew fond of you? he doesn't know. all he knew that lunch box you handed him the next day is a blessed gift within his palms. too good for him, you were too good for him.

you were the prove that the sky itself favoured him above anyone.

and when nagi wanted to ask you out, he only had one person to guide him to your heart.

so the very mysterious person behind the scene (reo) had a astounding idea that if someone like nagi; mister, game-addiction-freak. that on every step he'll get points! 100-90 if he did well, 80-70 not bad, 60-40 could've been worse.. 40-20 definitely could've been better... 20-0 yikes....

so with that, nagi was sent on a personal mission to win you over and soothe you with his nonexistent charm.

STEP ONE: be straightforward! it's not good to keep on dancing on someone's mindset with hints, it may cause a lot of confusion feelings and misunderstandings! only ask under a certain circumstances, a suitable place where were you two sit alone so they could have they're attention on you only. SIDE NOTE: try to make a good welcoming conversation to ease up the tension first then ask!

so nagi did just that, maybe a little too well.

he couldn't even eat his own lunch and just kept on rubbing his sweaty hands against each other's, staring back forth —he just noticed how many unfamiliar faces were there? did he really only seeyou?一 he was extra quiet which made you ask him multiple times if he was okay, he would just hum in response. what a smooth talker.

"nagi, you haven't even touched your food. are you actually okay?" you questioned, concerned. after taking a brief sip of your juice, but nagi just shook his head in conform, you raised a brow, a little in disbelief that he would think an obvious lie would go through you just like that. there was something off. the tension upon you two was twisting.

the words were on the tip of his tongue, yet they felt un-removed. all this stressing over four words were a pain, and a heavy burden he needed to reales before he lose his breathing track.

and the moment you took a bite and chewing on it, he just had to drop the bomb carelessly.

"go out with me."

so nagi didn't try and sooth the air, nor start a decent conversation. and when he gathered the earth courage to speak up, it wasn't even a question, that was a whole ass demand.

although, it worked. but it definitely could've gone better than you choking on your own food that you swore you witnessed death himself laughing his ass off at you.

what a great timing.

after you saw the heavens gates open for you and life flashing through your eyes, weirdly enough, you accepted.

huh, maybe he didn't mess up everything like he thought (he in fact did).

20 points!

STEP TWO: dress nice and compliment their outfit! dressing well means that you take the date seriously, complimenting them to foster a better sense of comfort and confidence, and they'll compliment you back! extra points if you made them all blushy and giddy!

nagi really wasn't the best at this.

instead of dressing 'nicely', all he wore was a big white hoodie and pants. didn't put much effort to his hair and just went off. it wasn't his problem that picking an estimated outfit was such a hassle. it's good at least it is something that covers him, right?

it all went downhill when you showed up, listen. he always thought you looked fit and nice in your suit work, and now he definitely wasn't ready to see you in regular, uniform out of work place. you just looked... so good, even great, stunning and beautiful, you name it.

nagi barely breath out a greeting, his eyes too busy scanning you from head to toe over and over, he couldn't take his gaze out of your sight even when you were on your way to the table. and he almost stumbled over twice for that, the first was nearly his face planting on the floor, and the second time he almost knocked out a whole plate of drinks. you just somehow managed to muddle over half of senses with your looks alone, maybe he should've considered writing his last letter.

"nagi.. you're staring too much."

the of yours dragged him out of his thoughts line. he saw as you held a sheepish— extra points?—expression, it was either from his heart-eyes eating you alive, or the date itself was bringing you to the nervous state, or both?

nagi cleared his throat, slightly cringing at himself for staring a little too hard. he was absolutely not doing reo's steps justice.

"sorry. you just, look really pretty." if not the prettiest of all, but again, nagi has eyes for you only to pay a mind to others around him.

your breath halts at that, you don't know what to say for a second, nagi himself was complementing you? and the fact that he said as it was a matter of a fact was such an out character thing. but at the same time a an amiable change. and it was for you only.

"thank you, I appreciate that." you say as you kept on twirling your fingers over your hair, you felt like a lovesick teenager. "I think you look very nice as well." you add, almost like a whisper, he still managed to catch it.

nagi let out a scoff, not even a smile forming on his features for that. "it's just hoodie, really."

"i still like it, it's very like you. I'm happy seeing that you can be yourself around me."

he flinch a bit at that, he really wasn't ready for this- it takes a strong-soulful soldier to handle this. and he really, really wanted to be gods strongest warrior just for you. so he gets a grip on himself and mumble a thanks.

you smile sweetly at that, and nagi may really be not the strongest soldier under your spell.

50 points!

STEP THREE: make a conversation! show interest in their personal life and listen to every ramble they have, try to also throw side comments there and here to support them and blow away any negative feelings of the talk being one-sided. also try and talk about your own life to make it easier for them to talk all night. SIDE NOTE: try and joke around to bloom a friendly tune. extra points if you made them laugh!

third time's a charm, right?

however, since nagi was uncommonly unfond of others babbling. in fact he found it annoying and it was hard keeping his eyes evenly open. but then when it comes to you, he found your feathery tune to be airy, he grew ease to it pitch.

so he handed over all his senses of hearing to you on one knee, and let you speak freely. switching between different topics form nowhere, and like the world- his world- itself was turning for you only, his eyes and soul was for you to talk and he'll rot into a shallow void to your lovely enunciate to play on a broken radio repeating.

maybe he should tell you to stop, because your non-touched food was getting cold, and maybe he should tell that to himself that too because he didn't even realize his plate was even there.

it felt like he had drifted from the original plan, instead the tables were turned and he was the one being swoon by you..

not that he minded honestly. but ending the night with you being the one who filled the space was enough to create a makeshift reo berating him, nevertheless, nagi really, really wanted you to like him back. to consider the idea of another date with him.

plus, he also liked your laugh, he really did. didn't the guide say something about making you laugh? even tried telling a joke that you actually chuckled at, something that was unneeded to say that his book was empty, he had to search on google "funny jokes" for gods sakes, how hopeless can he possibly get?

"why couldn't the sunflower ride it bike?" nagi utter flatly, "why" you slope your head to the side. "because it lost it petals." the joke was old, dusty, forsaken. and the urge to recoil the second it left his mouth was understandable. but somehow you still pushed out a laugh at it, you don't know if it was an amusingly one, or because that nonchalant face was clearly begging you to laugh. with that monochromatic tone and all made it even funnier.

that bloomed the smallest amount of exhilaration within his rib cage. it was lovely, and what was made the giddiness to flourish inside his belly was the fact that he was the reason for it. it felt priceless. a sight to a crave in his midst. completely bizarrely about all of this, nagi let's you take over him. to consume him, his heart, his breath and soul were yours to claim.

at least he did something good that night?

70 points!

STEP FOUR: walk them back home! it's quite a simple act but very affected and gentlemanly, make sure to make them feel save and guarded! hidden notes: try to hold their hand!

after paying the price, you and nagi take your leave. with also nagi's off attitude with him opening the doors for you and let you walk first. although, who were to complain about such a treatment? you'll take it

but weirdly enough, nagi was a bit on the edge. like he had a n amount of ants in his pants, couldn't look at your direction, barely spoke out a response, or anything in general. and 一was he holding his breath???一

wait, was nagi actually.... nervous?

you glanced at him, shoulders stiffened, hands moving too much and fast, mouth was dry and agape, half dizzy 一when he isn't?一

now that you did not expect.

it was even ten times worse than him in the cafeteria earlier, it felt like nagi was about to confess to you his cruelest crime. the tenseness was mixed with the deep-seated tenderness, nevertheless, it was a bittersweet taste. and it kept on going until you two stood together by your home.

"i had fun tonight, nagi." you spoke first.

he finally flinched out of his own world, he sees you rubbing your arm, the gesture was sketchy, almost as if you were waiting for him to say something, anything.

but nagi's mind was blank, blow out an air in his ear and it will run out of the other, empty head. yet his mind was roaming, that need to say something clung up to him again. too many thoughts he cannot process.

but all nagi did know was he wanted you to stay a little longer.

"that's.. good?" he should have stayed quiet, what kind of answer is that.

you nodded awkwardly in agreement, breathing out an 'yeah..' he felt a bit guilty at making you feel uncomfortable, the fact of him being unfaithful may have crossed your mind, and nagi didn't like it. but you always managed to make feel weird, he always felt too warm when you would get close to him, words were lost when he would look at your eyes, and now this..

but despite everything, he felt like himself when he was with you the most..

every game had it secret move, and his was that he need to let himself be.

"can we do this again? i also had a good night." a part of nagi wanted to add that it was one of the best nights he ever had, yet it was too cheesy, cringe.

"yes!" you replied, too fast. you sounded so desperate! you palmed your mouth, embarrassment remains on your face as you cleared your throat. "i mean.. yes, we can do this again."

nagi had to physically bent down his head, he was gonna set you on fire alive with his eyes, if he may say, you looked cute when flustered. and his heart wouldn't stop beating so infuriated, almost bursting out raw of chest.

nagi for some reason, stretched out his arms. it was bold and he knew it, he just did it and hoped for you to handle it. "um.. can i?" he sees you halting at your place. eyes ogling around but his own.

you walk up all jittery to him until there's barely any inches left between the two of you, you kept your eyes glued to your feet as if it was the most interesting thing in this moment, but it's also like you were asking him if it was okay, unsureness. so he pushes your head gently forward to rest on his stiffen chest. an arm runs around your back to force you as close as possible to him.

you shrivel when nagi's nose would be buried deep unto your hair locks. your scent would draw him at slacken, his whole body bending against yours that you felt like he wanted to crawl under your skin desperately, searching for the seeds of endless love you endowed to him.

you didn't know if you were somehow intoxicated, but you swore that you felt a pair of soft lips pressing against your skull, god, you felt like melting and soon to become a paste sliding down between his fingers. you gently pushed yourself back, and perhaps you imagined nagi's whining for you to not let go. it's like you were gonna fly away once he unwrapped you free. the second you meet his face, a pout expression on his lips, and you couldn't help yourself from cupping his cheeks, squeezing them slightly. a smile made it way to your face as his eyebrows grew frowned.

nagi's hands were on yours, pulling them down from his face, but not too far. unabashedly keeping his eyes locked with yours, he was holding you tight and close, basically hostage. the bug-stomach is back at again but more fiercely than ever.

80 points!

FINAL STEP: kiss.

the dull hue travels down on your lips. boldly, he doesn't look away for what felt like eternity, if anything it seems like they grew heavy the second you parted them slightly to say something that sticked on your tongue.

"can i kiss you?"

was he trying to kill you?

you don't respond, instead you made a move to give him a quick peck on his cheek. backing off faster than ever. nagi stood still, rooting in his place, completely bamboozled. his mind stopped working and his eyes were drifting off in different directions.一is it normal that he felt like melting to the ground?一

"im so sorry, nagi- i just got really nervous and-"

"seishiro."

"eh?"

"seishiro, call me seishiro." he finally found a piece of mind to say. he didn't know if it came out as a command, but he sincerely wanted you to call him by his name. he'd die a happy man then.

"well.. goodnight, seishiro. can't wait for our next date," you said, weaving before your door. nagi barely being able to wave back, his mind was still half empty. you just made him see the light of the stars and left with with the sweetest, loveliest smile for him to think about for the next couple of weeks.

maybe he stood there for a little longer than he should have, his face was on fire, his heart on race track. antithesis of the nonchalant face he had, he made a move to rub the spot you pressed your soft lips against. and the first thing that came to his mind that it was definitely worth it.

and by now, he absolutely forgot about the points and the game itself. oh well, at least half of it worked. he just did it in his own version, which apparently was charming to you. nagi thinks if being charm to you, than he can come over anything.

limitless points! you have made your own path to the heart!