#the vision is all there clear as day but it’s not getting to page right yk?

[eirenical]

OP, I hope you don't mind if I add on to this, but so much of this ALSO applies if you have WORSE sight in one eye than the other, too. It also applies if you two eyes that just don't fuse images the way they're supposed to. (Source: I have had a visual strabismus (aka, have been cross-eyed) since I was a baby and it's been abruptly worsening with a rapidly developing cataract in my left eye.

1) The neck thing is SO REAL.In fact, I find that I can no longer read something I'm holding in my hands unless I tilt my head to the left. If I tilt to the right, my right eye (aka my GOOD EYE) just forgets it's supposed to be functioning and cannot make sense of what's on the page.

2) STAIRS. Stairs are the bane of my existence. ESPECIALLY if they have one of those fancy patterned floors that looks like sand or a tiny repeating mosaic or something. (This plays into the "things you don't realize you need depth perception for" issue.) I always had difficulty judging stairs unless the edges of them were VERY clear, but now that I have worsening vision in my left eye it's gotten so much worse. Going up the stairs is less of a problem but going down? I will take the elevator down one single floor to avoid having to go down the stairs where I work because I have that much trouble seeing where the ends of the steps are. And it gives me really bad vertigo on top of it, so when I DO reach the bottom I have to stop and hold onto something for a second before resuming walking.

3) Eye strain eye strain eye strain. TT^TT There are times when I will take off my glasses and just live in the blur for a whole day because the strain of trying to get my eyes to talk to each other or the strain of asking my one better eye to do the work of both has given me a migraine level headache and everything upwards of my shoulders just HURTS.

4) ...good luck ever catching ANYTHING that is ever thrown at you. 😑 Gym class is not your friend. On the upside, if it's going AWAY from you, you may stand a chance. (I was BRUTAL at volleyball when they let me serve... and I was awful literally anywhere else on the court. XD)

5) This last one is more of a strabismus issue (two eyes that won't work together to fuse images) than a "one single eye" issue, but anything that requires binocular vision is going to be a problem. Properly using a binocular microscope or... well... binoculars XD is going to be a huge problem. This may not be much of an issue depending on your character, but I spent an entire solid YEAR in vet school with a migraine because of all the microscope work. Video microscopes were a fucking godsend.

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

[cinhomi]

okok i saw you wanted some ideas so here we go:

y/n is a waitress at a diner and one day skz comes in, but hyunjin can’t take his eyes off her. he keeps coming back to the diner and doesn’t leave until closing time anddddd I’ll leave the rest to you!!

this is a real y/n experience 🤭 but you didn't specify if skz are famous or not in this so I'm taking some liberties 😈

ALSO I'M SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG I KNOW THIS ISN'T MUCH BUT I HOPE YOU WILL STILL LIKE IT

Reservations for a lot of people are usually a nightmare to receive. Dirty dishes all over the kitchen, orders appearing from nowhere like mushrooms in a forest, rude people making demands over demands, and overall too much noise.

So when you personally answer the restaurant's phone and hear about eight people asking for a table... well, two tables, for tonight? The scream you let out is unfortunately just in your head. Your colleagues turn around when you shut the cordless phone on its stand, and your hands go to grab your hair, desperately. They hear the news. You all will be without any hair on your head by the end of the day.

It's the third time they call you over to take some orders, and the second one that they giggle when you come closer to their table. Weird. How much do men even eat? Do their stomachs have an end? More than annoyed, you're impressed by how many plates are stacked on the two tables. You carefully take them, and the towers these guys built are somehow stable and you pick them up effortlessly… they must be experts in the art of eating at restaurants.

“Can we please have some more rice?” someone asks, and a few others agree, but there is just one guy… he never talks when you come to hear their requests, or clear the space.

When you get a good glance at him behind the counter, when one of his friends goes to the bathroom and leaves an empty spot in front him, you feel your breath being knocked away from your lungs.

Plump rosey lips appearing more and more beautiful as they move with his words and part when he eats. His cheeks are a bit tinted, maybe from the alcohol he's been drinking since they arrived. Eyes long and feline, irises shining under the dim light right above his head, that also makes his long hair appear as a frame for his face, with his skin being the color of honey carefully crafted by expert bees.

His gaze finds yours once again, and he stops talking. The mole under his left eye twitches a little, as he tries to focus more the image of you in his vision. It makes you blush.

You see his friends nudge his elbow when they catch him staring in your direction, and a choir of teasing noises arises as they notice you were staring right back at him.

You come back to their table, and every time they try to embarass him, but you just smile and giggle at their jokes, not really noticing how your face always assumes the same color of gochujang. He smiles and keeps looking at you every time as if lost in thought, maybe used to his friends teasing him a lot. He must be someone popular. He has a kind face.

His friends call him Hyunjin.

Hyunjin smiles at you whenever your eyes meet and he always thanks you when you bring food or drinks.

Hyunjin sits straight and smiles absentmindedly all the time. He looks like a lovesick puppy.

Hyunjin is the only one that stays at the restaurant at almost closing time, when his seven friends thank you a million times and wink at him.

“Is there something else I can do for you...”

“Hyunjin. Please, call me Hyunjin. What is your name?”

When he hears your name his white teeth sink into his bottom lip, a wide smile taking over his face, as his head tilts slightly to the side.

“I was thinking of having dessert… what is your favourite that your restaurant makes?” his voice is soft and velvety smooth. Tempting. Sensual.

“The chocolate cake, I'd say. It's simple but satisfying and rich in flavor.”

Hyunjin slowly closes the menu, and places it in front of him, his hands playing a bit with the pages, as he takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“Would you like to have some with me, when you finish your turn?”

Oh… you've never been more happier about a client staying overtime.

[crowlore]

praying i get some art done today

[bi-writes]

can we have like a pov of like what MOB would do if something did happen to simon..? luv you!

mail-order bride

your tea is cold when you pick it up to drink it. it burns you, how cold it is, and you cough a little as you set it down, grimacing as you wipe your lips.

maybe it's just one of those days. the rain is hitting a little too hard against the window. the cats have been restless. the dark one shredded your yoga mat by clawing at it under a doorway, and the orange tabby managed to knock over all of simon's plants from the windowsill (which you frantically put back inside their little pots--would plant murder be his last straw?). you left a red shirt in when you washed the whites (you apologized to all of simon's white tees), and when you noticed holes in your favorite sweats in a pattern that matched a cat's claws, you called it a day and decided to make tea (another fail).

you rub your pounding head, taking a deep breath, but you aren't given long to count down from five when your phone begins to ring.

you pick it up, not recognizing the number, but you put it to your ear as you get up to boil more water.

"hello?"

a throat clears on the other end. "do i have mrs. riley 'ere?"

you frown, leaning your hip against the kitchen counter as you turn a burner on and put the kettle over it.

"uhm...yeah. this is she," you say finally. you look at the clock; it's late, much too late. "who is this?"

"this is john. ah...captain john price, ma'am."

you clench your jaw, closing your eyes. "um...i'm sorry, i...what can i do for you? simon's not--"

"we had to call for medevac," john says lowly. "ahh...should be headin' into surgery soon. i--"

"wait--what?" you cough a little, shutting the stove off, and you're scrambling as you make your way to the bedroom. he's talking again, you realize, but you can't hear what he's saying. your eyes are moving around the room, and you frantically start to pull drawers open, grabbing a sweater, jeans, actual clothes to put on. you shed your pajamas, hopping as you slide your jeans on, and he's still talking, but you still hear nothing.

you run into the dresser, the furniture rattling, and you let the phone go, realizing you can't see because there's tears blurring your vision. you wipe them away, looking around for your purse, and when you realize what this is, an emergency--right?--you head for the bookcase in simon's study.

you toss a few books down onto the floor, your hands shaking as your fingers curl around the spine of a leather bible. you set the book down on simon's desk, flipping through the pages before you find your prized paper nestled between the pages of the book of john.

you head back to the bedroom, picking up the phone again, and you shakily dial the number that's on the back of the card. you take a seat on the bed (because where would you go anyways?), and you close your eyes as you wait for someone to pick up.

it rings for too long. you gasp a little, clutching the phone tight, and you beg for someone to pick up, please, please, please--

"'ello?"

"johnny--" you hiccup, standing up. "johnny, he...he told me--"

"wha--who--" on the other end, johnny shouts at someone to get a move on, "--bleedin' christ, who is this?"

"it's me," you whisper. "i'm...simon's--"

"ach...fuckin' hell..." there's a long, deep sigh on the other end. "oi, lass, listen, he's alright--"

"he's...b-but someone said surgery."

"right, i..." he sighs again, and you hear a door shut on the other end. "ye sit tight, luv. i'll come get ye, okay?"

you sniffle, wiping your face, "just tell me he's gonna be okay. tell me i'm worrying for nothing."

johnny chuckles a bit, and the sound soothes you just enough. "gonna be alright. lad's fuckin' dramatic, i'll tell ye tha', big brick fuckin' stepped in front of--"

"okay, johnny, please don't tell me how simon almost killed himself and get your ass over here, okay?" you snap, and johnny halts his laughing.

"right, yeah, forgive me." you hear the rattle of keys. "'m coming."

"mrs. riley?"

your head lifts up. you blink the sleep out of your eyes, rubbing them gently, and there's a petite woman in scrubs smiling at you with her mask hanging around her neck. you have two sergeants at either side of you, captain price settled leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. you have a blanket around your shoulders, and when you slip it off, johnny takes it from you gently.

"you can see him now."

you get to your feet, and when you pass simon's captain, he tips his hat at you respectfully. you hurry and follow the doctor down the hall, and when you see simon's name scribbled on a makeshift sigh on the wall, you eagerly pick up the pace until the door is opened for you.

he looks peaceful laying there. the monitors beep quietly around him, little wires and tubes falling around him, and you let out a breath when you see him blink those dark eyes awake blearily.

"tha' an angel?"

you start to cry. "you're such an asshole."

you come close to the side of the bed, taking his outstretched hand, and you clutch his big hand to your chest. you curl his hand into a fist, pressing your face against the back of his hand, kissing his knuckles there gently. he uncurls his fingers and wipes at your tears gently, shaking his head.

"gave ya a right scare, didn't i?"

"yes, you dickhead," you sniffle, and simon chuckles lowly, wincing a little as he clutches his lower stomach. you use your foot to bring the chair behind you closer, taking a seat in it as you look up at him. he turns his head to face you, giving you a pained smile, and you let out the breath you've been holding since johnny came to get you. "what's the matter with you, simon?"

"shit happens."

you try not to roll your eyes, but the anger is not lost on simon. he squeezes your hand gently, his eyes flicking up to the clock, and he grimaces when he realizes it's nearly six in the morning. you must have been here all night, waiting for him.

"is this how it's gonna be?" you ask in a whisper. when he meets your eyes again, it's more difficult this time. what you're asking isn't predictable. it isn't a straight answer. and if he gives you anything that isn't the truth, it feels like a lie, and he can't do that to you. "w-waking up in the middle of the night? hoping that the call isn't...that...hoping that--"

"not that simple," simon interrupts gently.

"well, make it simple, simon," you say firmly. even through your tears, your voice doesn't shake this time. "make it very simple for me, then."

simon purses his lips, and for the first time since you've met your husband, he hesitates. he doesn't have an answer, at least a good one.

"don't wanna lie to ya, swee'eart," simon murmurs, and you stare right back at him.

"then don't."

he sucks on his teeth, looking away, and you tug on his hand, pulling his eyes back to you.

"look at me, simon," you say, and he looks sad. he's going to tell you something that you won't want to hear. he's going to tell you something that's been the truth since he enlisted, a reality that never bothered him until he realized he had a responsibility to keep a roof over your head. there's someone waiting inside of his house. there's a place that's waiting for him on one side of the bed he shares with you. there's someone else's shoes always next to his, and someone else's name that will always be beside his own.

family.

he has a family.

"i'll try and keep ya outta here," is all simon murmurs. you smile at that. it's a promise, but he won't lie to you. always honest, your husband. he tells you things as they are. he doesn't pretend. everything with simon is the truth as he presents it, and it's eerily comforting, even if the truth isn't one that you like.

"i love you, simon," you whisper, and when you touch his face finally, the sting of the gold of your wedding is a welcome distraction.

he vows to make this the last time you see him this way. nothing is worth seeing that face of yours like this--tired, disheveled, the angry crease in your brow. you're not meant for these things. for the waiting, the crying, the worry, it's not a life he meant to give you.

for a moment, he wonders if you'd ever ask him.

will you hang it up for me? will you leave for me?

the most terrifying part, he realizes, is that he isn't sure of what his answer would be. and he isn't sure of what you would do if he told you no.

[eyeless-cunt]

KINKTOBER DAY 15

PROMPT: Choking

CREEP: Masky

Word Count: 3k

CW: 18+ Sexual Content, Heed The Prompt, Murder, Choking that leads to MURDER (and choking that leads to sex too), Creampies (there are no creampies that lead to murder), Shower sex, uhh reader i'm not gonna lie you're kinda fucked in this one. I support you through.

KINKTOBER '24 MASTERLIST

You'd watched Masky be cruel before, and it made you wonder if he was capable of unleashing that same coldness towards you. He must be, right? The thought had you shifting in place, your eyes locked on the barely visible outline of his body through the window. You watched as he dragged a large bag of something into your shed, his form passing under a light and showing you the blank look on his face. Likely a bag of crushed cans, you thought. It was a large black trash bag, so really that was the only guess that made sense.

Yawning, you turned away to head up to bed, your heavy feet shuffling up the carpeted stairs sluggishly. As much as you loved watching him haul things with a smoke hanging from his mouth and a pack falling out of his pocket, your vision was beginning to blur. Work had kept you up longer than usual, and you had a lot to do around the house tomorrow.

Warmth enveloping you as you sunk into bed had you sighing, your ears pricking as you heard the back door creak through your vent. He was done already? Usually he'd finish another cigarette before coming back in. You listen to him pull off his boots, grunting as he bends over. A few moments later that familiar hum of the basement shower begins. He must've gotten mud all over him somehow, otherwise he'd be in the bathroom down the hall, coming in to kiss your forehead before he got undressed and under the steaming water.

Heat against your forehead has your eyes fluttering open, vision clearing as you watch him take a step back. He'd pressed a kiss against your forehead, quick but soft.

“Sorry,” he grunted, “didn't mean to wake you.” You yawned, head shaking as you waved away his apology.

“‘S okay,” you mumbled, your voice quiet and rough with sleep. The bed dipped as he climbed in beside you, the covers lifting and letting in cold air that had you shuffling closer to him.

You think he's whispering something to you, but by the time the words are out of his mouth you're already drifting back asleep, snuggled into his side.

•

Sunlight is streaming through the kitchen window, lifting my mood as I scrub at a stained baking tray. Masky had been gone when I woke up hours earlier, probably doing something or other off in the woods somewhere. I'd like to call and ask where, but his phone was practically a brick–useless and dead as it laid in a drawer somewhere. He hadn't used it since the day I gifted it to him, but I wasn't offended. It was only his nature.

A haste knock sounded at the door, catching my attention as I rinsed soap suds from my hands. We didn't get many visitors all the way out here, our fellow mountaineers preferring to keep to themselves, surrounded by enough land to keep away neighbors.

I opened the door to the scrap guy, his eyes looking over our land appraisingly. He was most likely looking for any indication we had something for him. He came by every few months, typically.

“Why hello there, ma'am,” he started, his face unsmiling but not at all unfriendly. “Was out this way and thought’a ya and that big ‘ole boy a yours. Yinz got anything for me that ya’ been savin’ these last coupla calendar pages?” He shoots me a friendly smile, and I greet him and nod, knowing there's a pile to sell in the basement.

“Course we do, follow me to the back?” He nods, the glint in his eye telling me he's more than ready to load it all. I shut the door behind me, leading him to the back around the house. As is normal he's looking around and making conversation about the wildlife, this and that about hearing coyotes in the woods.

I open the basement door, showing him down our rickety steps to the pile that somehow grows steadily every month. I'm not sure where Masky gets it all but I am pleased with the money we get for it.

“Gotdamn, it's a whole trove,” he remarks happily, eyeing it with dollar signs in his eyes. I'd once asked him what he does with all the junk he buys.

His words at the time were, “I sell it elsewhere for more.”

“Ah.” Is what I replied, deadpan but not shocked.

Presently, he was looking through the corner of garbage with great interest, eyes turning to me questioningly. “The hell ya get all this copper wiring from?” I looked down at the rust pile, noting the indeed large amount of coiled metal.

“Mas–um,” A fake cough forced its way from my mouth, covering the mistake I'd made. “Not sure, you know how it is. He brings rusty junk home and I don't ask questions,” I force a laugh and he smiles at me, understanding in his eyes.

“These are methhead levels of copper, little lady,” he laughs, the words playful. I force more laughter, wondering just how much of Masky’s behavior could be compared to something akin to drug usage. Did his pill bottles count?

“Well if I find a pipe I suppose we'll have it figured out, then,” I say, prompting another chuckle from him. About forty minutes later he's got everything he wanted loaded up, his small truck backed into my yard with the tailgate down. As he's checking to make sure nothing is about to fall out I remember the bag I watched Masky drag into the shed last night.

I tell him I'll be right back, and he waves me away, nodding to say he'd wait. My jog to the shed is short, and I open the old wooden door to a smell that almost knocks me on my ass. My face scrunches in distaste, eyes searching for what is probably a dead animal. I find nothing, the space seemingly in order as usual. “Okay…,” I whisper, confused but writing it off as something I'll have to come back and look further into later.

The trash bag is sat in a corner by our work desk, but as I get closer I find myself covering my mouth in an attempt not to throw up. With my shirt pulled up over my nose I reach for the bag, pulling it only to realize whatever it's full of is certainly not cans, nor anything metal-like for that matter. Confused, I place my hand on the side of the bag, cringing as I feel my hand sink into something that seems wet. I pull away, figuring whatever it was I'd have to ask Masky about later. The sound of floorboards creaking from behind has me spinning, my eyes meeting the apprehensive gaze of the scrap guy.

“Sorry, no cans in here! Thought we had a bag stashed away but I guess not–next time, maybe…,” I trail off. He holds my gaze, the brief silence awkward.

“Whatcha got there? Smells awful in ‘ere.” He's staring down at the bag, his expression steady. He's scrutinizing it in front of me, his dirty hand reaching up to rub his stubble.

“Oh, aha, sorry. Probably whatever was left over from the deer he got hunting a few days ago,” I lied. We didn't do much hunting, and we'd never keep a bag of parts lying around. Those are much better sold. I can't think of anything else besides clipped deer intestines that smell this horrid, however, and so that's the only excuse I have.

“Didn't know yinz hunt, that's nice. Ain't in season though, is it?” I freeze, the eye contact I'm holding with him scalding and beginning to become unbearable.

“I wouldn't know,” I say, wondering what exactly he was getting at.

“You don't know much of nothin’, do you, little lady?” My mouth parts in surprise, face furrowed as I look at him, confused and a bit concerned about being alone now. “Um–,” I begin to respond but am cut off by his rough words again.

“Where's your man?” I pause, wondering what the hells gotten into him before he takes a step closer, scaring me into tripping over the bag. It tilts but doesn't fall, my ass hitting the ground with a thump as I wince.

“I don't…what? He's…at work, is there an issue?” I shake my head, slowly raising from the ground as I dust myself off. I take another step back, realizing how quickly I'm running out of potential escape room.

“Might be.” His words come out short and clipped, confusing me further. I'm not even sure what to say, my eyes scanning my surroundings for something to hit him with if needed.

Before I can open my mouth to respond he's being slammed into the wall, his body flying past me as I whip around to find my bearings. Masky is on him, hands wrapped around his throat as they forcibly squeeze the air from his lungs. I watch wide-eyed as his eyes bulge from their sockets, his hands only managing to fight back for a mere few seconds while his legs kick and thrash. The snap of his neck a minute later sends chills down my spine, his head slamming against the floorboards as Masky drops him coldly.

My eyes are stuck to the dead man's open gaze on the floor, not registering Masky's low voice against my ear. I look up to find his dark eyes on mine, head tilted as he watches me closely with a slight frown plastered to his face. It looks like concern.

Was it that easy to snap a man's neck? Had he snapped it? I wasn't sure of how we got here, the events before this all transpiring within a span of five minutes. Everything was happening too quickly to process, and I wasn't sure where to go next.

“Listen,” I hear him say firmly, “what happened?” I can only shake my head, looking up at him confusedly. Shouldn't I be asking that?

“I don't know, he–he followed me? I don't know, I really don't know,” I say, my words coming out rushed and as confused as I am. He's looking down at me, brown eyes softened as his hand reaches to pull me closer to him. His hand is warm on my face, and I'm reminded of how affectionate he can be. It's a stark contrast to the man that was standing over a body only thirty seconds ago.

•

I always feel so much colder when he's gone. I sit under our yellow porch light, eyes turned out towards the woods as I wait. He's somewhere in those woods with a body, and my chest feels tight because of it. I spent hours replaying the sight of his hands squeezing around someone's throat, and at some point I'd begun to imagine that the someone was me.

I sigh, dropping my head in my hands as I stare at the ground, wondering just how cold you have to be to take someone by the head and twist. I'd watched him wrap his hands around that man's throat, but he told me that wouldn't have killed him fast enough. Not unless he got much stronger than he currently was. I wondered just how much stronger he'd have to be, the image of him slamming a grown man much bigger than me against that wall playing over and over. I watched him lift him by his neck, rough hands exerting an amount of force that would break me into two pieces. An amount of force that broke a man over two hundred pounds into pieces. He wouldn't have had to twist my neck like that to break it.

Rustling just past the tree line has my head snapping up, eyes searching for what I assume is Masky. His boots step out, crunching a twig underneath them. He looks as calm and stoic as ever, entirely focused on where I sit waiting for him.

“You shower yet?” His voice is a bit rougher than usual, and I figure he must be tired. Shaking my head no I begin to stand, taking his hands that he's outstretched towards me. He walks me in, kicking his boots off at the door. I let him lead me to the bathroom, the water started and heating as he gently removes the clothing from my body.

“Sure we'll both fit?” I mumble, the words coming out raspier than I'd meant them to. He only grunts, fingers working their way down his own shirt buttons, his hands steady as though he hadn't just dumped a body.

I get under the water first, sighing as I feel the heat run over me. The exhaustion of the day begins to settle into my bones, and I contemplate walking out of the shower and simply rolling straight into bed. Scuffed hands on my waist have me glued in place, my body leaning back against his chest, relaxing as I feel him around me.

His hands lather the soap up my back, my body relaxing as I watch the steam in the bathroom rise. I tense again as I feel him reach my shoulders, my neck buzzing as I hear that snap replay over and over through my ears. His mouth on the dip between my neck and shoulder has me breaking immediately, my head tilting to give him more access. He places short kisses up my neck, sucking a bite into my skin just below my jaw.

“Careful, now, this may end up being a slip ‘n slide,” I chide, the soap running off my body onto the floor below us. He smiles against me, his mouth sucking more bites just behind my ear. I swallow, feeling the saliva slide down my throat uninterrupted.

“That’s my intention,” he mumbles, voice so low I have to strain to hear him. I scoff, my mouth quirked into a smile as I register his meaning.

He wraps his arms around me, holding me steady as one sneaks down past my stomach between my legs. I sigh, his mouth on me sending flutters down my core, thighs clenching as I feel him slide a finger between my folds. My hips roll weakly into his fingers, forcing them against my clit. Electricity sparks through my gut when I feel him rub easy circles into me, soft sighs escaping me. This feeling combined with the hot water and steam filling the bathroom has my body completely relaxed against him.

My head rolls back as he slips a finger inside me, pumping in and out as I whine softly. My thighs are clenching around his hand, hips rolling as I attempt to keep him from pulling his hand away from me. I can't help but feel needy, purposely rubbing my ass back into him, sighing as I feel him against me.

I gasp a bit as I feel his fingers pull away from me, both hands moving to reposition my body so that I'm bent over a quarter of the way, hands placed flat on the tiled wall. My only warning is the feeling of his tip pressing into me, stretching along my walls as he pushes into me. I gasp, back arching as I bend further. His hands on my hips forcing me back closer to him has me aching, core tightening as I feel myself clenching around him.

I barely register his hand sliding up my spine. The shower water is losing its heat as it hits my back, his warm hands holding me steady but also the reason I slowly become shakier. One hand wrapped loosely around my throat has me lurching, a gasp escaping me as he rolls into me, sending full body shivers through me. I hear a snap from behind me, but I can't look. I know it's not real.

He's saying something to me now, but I can't hear it over the thump of that body hitting the floor, the sound replaying in my mind every time he pushes into me. His hand squeezes around my throat, holding me in place as I begin to slip, my legs and sense of reality becoming weak hand in hand. He pulls me up so that my back is flush with his chest, his hips never stilling. I can hear myself moaning in the background, the muffled sound of his hips slamming into me steady and rhythmic.

I can't tell if it's his grip on my neck that has me breathless and seeing stars or if I'm simply losing air to the steam that fills the bathroom top to bottom. Snap.

My eyes tear up, mouth gasping for air as I begin to see spots. I can feel his grip on me tighten, and the tightness in my core grows with it. It's rising as he fucks into me, my weeping throat closing in on itself as I hear him murmer, “you sure?” What?

I'm nodding, but I don't know what for, my orgasm ripping through me before I can think to ask what he meant by the question. Snap. I'm gasping, hips bucking frantically as he finishes inside me. My vision is blurred, steam and spots filling my remaining view. Both of his arms are around me now, my throat empty and gulping up air that's more wet than dry.

He's whispering in my ear, the water shutting off as he carries me from the shower, setting me down on the edge of the tub while he wraps me in a towel.

“I didn't hurt you?” He's looking down at me, brow furrowed and his usual frown deeper than usual. He's concerned, but my hands are too busy reaching for my neck, a gentle stinging sensation blooming as I touch the sides.

“No,” I say slowly, “you didn't hurt me.” I look up at him, making eye contact as I smile easily. He doesn't look convinced, eyes glued to my throat as though he's confused. “I love you, Masky.” The words leave me for the first time and they sound sweeter than anything else I've ever said.

His mouth parts, only to close firmly a second later. He nods, and I notice the dirt under his nails. A shower could never rinse that away so easily.

[georgiapeach30513]

How I'm Looking at You, Part 3

Summary: it's becoming too much, and you're learning so much.

Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, first orgasm, jealousy, fingering, dry humping, mild imagines of breeding kink, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7.8K

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Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Taking a deep breath, you lift another spoonful of the coffee soup to your lips before letting the spoon fall back in the glass with a clash. Eyes going wide as you read through the words quickly, and turn the page. The English are a different breed of people, but you have found yourself more and more immersed in their literature. Getting to a better stopping point, you dip a piece of the bread in the soup, and look towards Ari.

He’s staring directly at you. Those crystal blue eyes of his rakes over your face curiously as if he’s studying you. As if you are the most interesting thing in the world. An abandoned newspaper beside his breakfast, but how could you be more interesting than whatever was in that?

Clearing your throat, you turn your gaze back to the book, and read nothing. You can still feel his warm and curious eyes as you try to breathe. Just breathe. Going to the swimming hole has lit something in you. Something deep within your body, and it is purely physical. You want him. You want him like the characters in your books, and that just brings on even more questions.

Questions that have you fearing their answers. Was Ari even aware of the books he had given you to read? Was that his plan all along? Because there is something stirring, and you don’t know how to deal with it. Between him and what you’re reading it’s becoming too much. It fizzles lower than your belly, and you have a feeling that Ari is the only one that can fix it.

Ari shifts in his chair, and you look over towards him. If he wants your attention, he can have a bit of it. You’re almost too embarrassed and scared to give him your full attention. “I want to apologize for the other day?”

“Apologize?” You ask a bit confused. What exactly is he apologizing for? And why was the fact that he was apologizing and admitting he did something wrong — desirable? Men around here were right, and you were just to accept it.

“For the swimming hole,” you nod once, your vision turning to an odd scratch in his table. Your father would have already had that buffed out. “I think things got a bit heated, and if I crossed the line, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t. Not really,” you gulp as you try and find the words. These books have been giving you so many new words that you aren’t sure if you can or should put them into a sentence. But there is one thing that seems to be common amongst the women, “It’s just so fast. And it’s overwhelming and I don’t know how to deal with what I’m feeling,” that didn’t sound too bad.

“What exactly are you feeling?” He adjusts his seat. Putting his forearms onto the table, while he leans forward. Giving you more attention than anyone else ever has, “If you’re comfortable,” you shake your head quickly, and he smiles. He has a pretty smile. A smile that you can feel radiate all the way to your toes, and that makes no sense at all.

“We should go swimming again,” you look at him, a smile creeping up on your face. “If-if you want to, that is. I can get you a bathing suit, and you can feel free to ask me anything. I could be like an open book, if you will.”

“Anything?” He whispers out, yes, and you let those words sink a moment before nodding, and picking your book back up. You read a paragraph about fifteen times without even absorbing what the words mean. But you have to quit looking at him. You have to keep him off your mind, while you try not to explode.

Anything. Anything that you can come up with, he’s willing to answer. You need to gather your thoughts, and think about what you would like to ask him. What if you irritated him to the point that he didn’t want to answer questions anymore? You had to make these questions count for something.

Ari is a strange character. He’s intense in ways that your community isn’t. Here the men just had a stern hand. They walked around being able to do what they wanted to because they were men. They just had to stick to the Amish ways, or at least not get caught. Judging by the church service over the weekend, people are having the same thoughts about you.

You could hear the whispers, and the backwards glances. Gossiping is a sin. Ari is your friend though. He doesn’t talk about you, he talks with you. A worldly man, and he gave you his undivided attention, and even his touches.

And why shouldn’t you be friends with Ari? It’s not like you’re doing something you shouldn’t be. You’re enjoying time with him, and learning from him. That’s more like a teacher. Except — Ari doesn’t look anything like the teachers you grew up with. He’s tall, large, and thick, and he makes your body ache in weird ways. You’re sure he’s not feeling the same way as you, so it’s best to keep these feelings suppressed.

But these stupid books are not helping. There’s something within them that just makes sense. They’re answering and describing a lot of things you’ve been feeling, but how does one know if your teacher is feeling the same way? How do you know if Ari is just as much of a knotted up mess as you are?

“So,” Ari starts, whatever his train of thought was, depleting. He’s not usually one to be shy, that’s typically you.

“What?” Laying your book down, you smile up at him. “Ari, what is it?”

“If I ask, you have to promise to not get mad,” now what is he up to that would make you get mad?

“I thought we were friends?”

“Yes!” His shout makes you flinch, and you giggle at your silly reaction. “I’m sorry, but yes, we’re friends. And I’m only trying to help you out. I took a guess at…your size of bra.”

“Oh,” your eyes fall back to the table. You had read about bras. There’s no way that the scratch on the table are as exciting as you’re making it. But looking at Ari is almost painful, “You know everything I wear, I’ve made myself, right?”

Ari inhales deeply, his own eyes looking at the odd mark on the table now. He actually didn’t know that, and now he fears he’s overstepped his boundaries. You like to think the scratch resembles an upside down J, but more rounded instead of a straight like. “Do you know what a bra is?”

“Essentially, yes. But,” your cheeks flare up with embarrassment, but you refuse to let this be another moment of trying to run away from him. It’s all you feel you’re doing, running away. You stand your ground of being present with him. “I don’t wear one.”

“Do you want to? Or have I gone too far??”

The women in the books all wear bras, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to experience some of the moments in the books. Unable to answer, you just nod your head. “Do you know how to put one on?”

“I think I can figure it out. Were you about to offer to help me?” This is very much the flirting that the books talk about. His crooked little grin goes wider across his face, and his cheeks flame up. Turning rosy while you can’t stop smiling. It feels good not to be the only one that has this rumbling in your stomach.

“I may have,” his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath. “I got you some panties, and they had a matching set with the bras, and…I don’t know, I figured you might like them? They’d be pretty on you,” He’s thoughtful, if not a shameless flirt. But still it feels nice to be seen, and thought of. “I’ve heard that it can make a woman feel sexy even if nobody sees it.”

Ugh, that gross feeling settles in your craw. Anger is not becoming of an Amish woman, but this doesn't feel like anger. It feels disgusting, and it hurts. You can nearly feel it blooming outwardly in your body, and you only want him to see you in your underwear. Nobody else. You want him to stop talking about other women, even if he’s had them. You want to be the only woman on his mind.

“Maybe they can show you what it looks like then?” His brow cocks up, and you push your chair back with a loud squeak. “I think it’s time for you to get to work.”

“Are you — jealous?” His words halt you in your tracks as you purse your lips. “Darling, there is no other woman in my life but you.”

“But there was, and I don’t much like hearing about them,” of course he couldn’t understand the feeling. You are pure, while he has had others.

“They were in the past, and…”

“And did they show you their panties as well?” He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Contemplating the best way to proceed. “I see. I’m assuming they also have mated with you.”

“You are jealous,” his words are flat, and if they were mocking you, you might not feel as angry as you do right now. “There’s nothing to be jealous about.”

“How can I be something I don’t even understand what it means? Ari, you should really go outside, and start your chores for today, while I start mine,” what you really want is for him to leave you alone while you’re left with the debilitating thoughts that won’t stop pounding through your mind.

He sighs, pushing his chair back as he goes to stand. Staring at you while you look at anything that isn’t him. The burning sting that you feel oozes into you, and makes you feel weak and filthy. You hate it, and you hate when he does that to you.

“You’re right, Darling. I’m sorry,” what he’s apologizing for, you aren’t sure, but it doesn’t fully quell the sludge bubbling in your stomach. “I figured the bedroom upstairs could be yours,” that came from nowhere. You study him as he fights for the words to say next.

“Maybe you should look in the drawers. You’re doing a great job here, and I can’t thank you enough. Take some time off today,” you start to object. Blubbering through words, but his calloused finger presses up against your pouty lips, and you’re stunned into submission.

You look up at him through your lashes, feeling smaller than you actually are. He’s massive. His size always seems to make you feel like a child. “There’s less to do here because it’s just me. As your employer, I am telling you to take it easy today. Do I make myself clear?” Your throat is dry, almost on the verge of hurting as you nod your head. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so what are you supposed to do? Continue to argue and lose? No. You’ll just accept his warning.

“Everything in that room is yours,” he says with finality as he stalks to the door, and out for the day.

You’re left reeling. Playing over every word said this morning while you try and figure out all that is happening. Big strong Ari makes you very weak in the knees, and wet. That’s what the books say, and that is what you feel. The books have a perfect way of explaining the things that are going on in your hidden areas.

These feelings you can’t explain, but the books do. But what they suggest to take care of those feelings seems forbidden. Gathering up your current book, you lift your skirts a bit as you walk up the stairs. Counting each one on the way up. Fifteen. Fifteen steps until you reach the top landing.

Journeying down the hallway, you stop and take a peek in the first room. Ari’s. He actually made the bed today, but didn’t close his drawers all the way. He told you not to work today, but you can’t let those drawers stay open, so you take a few steps to it, and close them. Looking out the window you see him squinting up at the house before he smiles, and looks back at Jacob and the other two boys.

He saw you in his room. You had no business being in here, and you wonder if he’s going to punish you for not listening to him. It didn’t matter. What’s done is done, and you’ll accept whatever punishment he deems fit. You’ll just go to your room, as Ari called it.

It’s prettier than his. Showing oddly feminine furniture that are a bit too decorative to be Amish, but you like them. Love them actually. Love the way the intricate golden vines sprawl out over the sturdy wood, but it’s inside that has got you curious. You walk over to the window, and see Ari smiling at you again. Tipping his hat before you close the curtains.

Is he watching you? Waiting to see what you think of this bedroom? Or even what’s in the closet and drawers? Which makes you wonder, what exactly is in there. Opening the door to the closet, you take a step back as your eyes flick over the frocks. So many colors. And fabrics. Tags on them let you know that they weren’t made by someone, but you adore them all the same.

Pulling out on dress, you flatten it over your body, and turn to look at a floor length mirror, that definitely isn’t Amish. Vanity is a sin. But peering into the looking glass you get the appeal. You run your fingers over the lavender material as you swish around. Trying to get a feel of what it would look like on your body before you lay it on the bed.

You should try it on. But first where are the bras, those sets, that Ari spoke about. You go to the dresser, and open up a drawer. Smiling when you see the multitude of colors and materials in there. They were beautiful. It’s one thing that truly bothered you about your community, they want to praise God because of the beauty he created, while you are left to mope around in drab tones.

Don’t bring attention to oneself. But this would be under your clothes and only you and Ari would know. These are things you would be proud to show him, and even tell him how pretty they make you feel. You choose a pretty pale pink set. The bottoms have a bit less material than what you have been wearing. But the top looks so fresh and light that you need it on your skin. And then you can try on the dress.

Maybe even show Ari, and ask what he thinks. You stare at yourself in the mirror as you put the pieces on. Spinning and turning to admire the way they fit on your body. How they hug your curves, and lift your breasts. Your fingers tickle over the cups, and your body jerks back at the sensation. That…that was a lot for very little effort. It’s only partially of how Ari makes you feel. He has you wound so tight that it’s sometimes difficult to breathe.

He makes you feel like your skin is on fire. That your blood is so hot and boiling that it physically turns your body into a furnace. Every time. The serious tone, and the way he looks at you with those pouting eyes. The intensity you feel between the two of you swells, and you need something. The books make that something seem easy, but the way you feel, and what you have been taught is anything but simple. It’s a sin. A loathsome and filthy sin. But why does his smile and touch make you feel good?

It’s something that could get you shunned out of your community. Something that nobody even talked about. It’s to be had, but kept secret. You’ve read enough in the books to know it’s not just breeding, although that seems to be a colorful time. But a pleasure that takes you out of your body and puts you into an out of body experience. You just had to ask Ari a few things about parts, and what they actually mean, and do. Maybe you’d ask him to go back to the swimming hole. You could have a picnic dinner planned, and you are not going to run away. You’re going to force yourself to stay, and learn.

“Fuck,” you hear an angry growl coming from the front door, and make your way down the stairs. His arms flail around on the porch as he removes his shirt. Legs dancing around and stomping on the shirt before he comes inside.

Welts form on his body as he starts swatting his thick chest, and you rush to him, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his words stop immediately when he sees you. Sorrowful for saying that word in front of you, but the pain overtakes him as he groans, swatting at his chest again.

“Your hurt,” that much is obvious as you look over his skin. “Let me wash my hands. Yellow jackets?”

“Yeah,” his voice is strained as he follows you into the kitchen. “What do I need to do?” You give him a point to the chair, and he follows your lead. Mixing up a little concoction, you grab a towel, and kneel between his legs.

Your soft and delicate hands move over his ample chest. Stopping on each welt to make sure you remove every stinger. You can’t look up at him, but feel his eyes never leave yours, “What happened?”

“I was actually plowing, and ran right into a nest. There’s none on my back. They got in the front of my shirt, Darling,” he wants to plead to you not to get off your knees. To stay there while he has the most intrusive impure thoughts about you. You gulp, reaching up to the table, and grab your little bowl.

“It may sting a bit,” whispering as you press a hand on his broad chest. His heart is beating just as fast as yours, an he leans back, so you can lift up off your haunches. Forgetting what it is you’re supposed to be doing as you watch the rise and fall of his body. He’s beautiful, and it’s suffocating to think about how close you are. How you can still feel the heat of the sun on his skin.

“What is that?” He asks with a smile, and you remember what it is you’re supposed to be doing. Gathering up a little bit of the paste, you smooth it over the first sting, and he hisses. Everything in your body buzzes as you rub it into another sting. “Darling? You okay?”

No, you’re not, but you nod because it’s the safest thing as you spread out the salve right beside his nipple. Your eyes roll up to meet him, and you freeze. The way he is staring at you seems just right. Your body is on fire, but it doesn’t feel sinful. “I-i-i-it’s meat tenderizer,” you sound like the girls who have a boy courting them, and you can’t make the silliness stop.

“What?” The rumble of his chuckle vibrates straight to your core, and you clench your thighs together trying to make it stop. How does a laugh send sensations there? Everything Ari does makes the central area of your body fill with need. Feel the need for him to do something. Anything.

“It works, doesn’t it?” There’s heat coursing through you to Ari. Spreading between the two of you, and you can’t make things move. Your hands fall to his thighs, and you whimper at the feeling of the cords of muscle that make up the majority of him. He’s big everywhere. You just know it. The books said as much, but you don’t dare ask a question about those areas.

His mouth turns up into a soft grin as he leans forward. Inching closer and closer to you, and you’re immobilized, but not by fear. Whatever is happening you pray that it happens faster. The way that your body bends into his, curving at your back, and you look up at him.

Ari licks his lips, and lifts a hand under your chin. Holding you in place, and placing you how he wants you. His lashes splay over his cheeks as he takes a quick glance to your lips before closing his eyes, and you copy his movements. Primed and ready for his lips to brush softly against yours, and he intakes a long breath before you pucker out your own, and he gently and tenderly presses against your plump lips.

His tongue tickles on the pillows of your mouth, and they part on their own accord. Your taste buds are assaulted with the tangy taste of tea. Trying to taste more, your tongue darts out, tasting his tongue, and those thick arms wrap around your body, lifting you higher up. Swallowing every shallow breath, and every whimper that escapes you.

The two of you melt into one another. Nothing has ever felt like this, and that fuzzy feeling spreads in your belly. No lower. “Ari,” you say his name breathlessly as he gulp for air. Your lungs pain with the wide spread of oxygen, and you still hunger for Ari. He pulls you up into his lap. Refusing to remove his mouth from you, and his hands explore the curves that your dress always hides.

Kissing from your lips, down to your jaw as your body starts to rock into him. Movements you’ve never made before, and you want more. He takes his mouth to your neck, giving the sensitive column a little nibble, and you yip. Mewling out his name, and he smiles on your skin, “You like that?”

You don’t have time to ask him to make the buildup inside of you stop because the front door slings open, and booming steps walk towards the kitchen, “Ari, you…” you stand up quickly from his lap, and smooth down your skirts, shamefully looking away from Jacob. Your whole body spinning around while Ari sits in the chair nonchalantly with his legs spread wide. Both arms rest on his legs, while his hands hang over his crotch. Hiding the effect you had on him.

“Are you okay?” Jacob looks between the two of you, and you walk over to the empty sink. Staring into the porcelain like your vision can manifest dirty dishes. Don’t look at him. Don’t speak to him. He is Amish, and you’re now alone with two men. “I came to check on you. Jedidiah said you came in here cursing up a storm. We don’t like to hear such things, but for the women, especially.”

“Jacob, I’m fine. Um…meat tenderizer, does the trick every time,” Jacob looks between the two of you as Ari stands from the chair. Towering over Jacob, “Don’t barge into my house. Okay?”

“Was she…?”

“She was tending to my stings, and now I feel brand new. I’ll meet you back outside,” Jacob’s dark green eyes look over to your back, and you keep staring at the overly clean sink. Why did you have to be so sufficient? “I’ll be out shortly, Jacob.”

The boy gives a nod to Ari, and reluctantly walks away. Trying to think of any kind of scenario that could explain the quick movement that he witnessed. But Ari can only think of you. Slowly he walks over to your side, and his hand rests under chin, and he turns you to look at him, while his thumb grazes over your kiss-swollen lips.

His thoughts are only on your embarrassment and questions you have to be having right now. “Darling, what happened isn’t wrong.”

“I know, it doesn't feel wrong, it feels forbidden, and private,” he wishes there was a way to make you not feel so much guilt, but you are hardwired that way. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but he doesn’t know the words to say to reassure you of that. He wants you to know that what he feels for you is beyond just the physical part. That he has a need to take care of you.

The only reason he’s even entertaining this place still is because of you. He can’t say all that. Can’t say that he wants to pick you up, and set you on the counter while he lifts up your skirts, and worships you between your thighs. Fuck everyone’s small minded thoughts in this community because you deserved to be respected, loved, and cherished. And above all feel pleasure without shame.

“Ari, I can’t stop feeling funny around you.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know?” How does one explain that you what you want with him is what is going on in the books? You didn’t even know what was going on in the books. You know there are wifely duties to her husband, but you didn’t know if that’s how a wife surrendered to her husband. The women in the books receive pleasure and compliments beyond your wildest imaginations. The women here bore children. There seems to be a difference there.

“Try to explain it?”

“It feels fuzzy, and I want something that I don’t even know what it is. And I want,” you bite your lip, and Ari wants to drop to his knees. He knows that would be too much right now. But you need the edge to be taken off of you.

“Did — did you enjoy the kiss?”

“Maybe too much.”

“Why do you say that?”

You stare up at him, eyes darting all around his ridiculously handsome face, and try to think of the words that won’t embarrass you. No one has ever talked to you about kissing, or even how it would make you feel. All you know is from the books. The men in those books seem to understand, and like it.

“It’s just that arousal has pooled in my core,” his eyes go wide, and he looks towards your belly. He’s speechless. His hand grips onto the counter, knuckles whitening, and his hip juts out. You hear him audibly counting, although it’s barely spoken. “You should go back outside.”

“I should take you swimming, and have some privacy with you,” he wants to take his time with you. Lavish you with so much attention that you can’t even think straight. The way he wants to spoil you with pleasures beyond your wildest imagination.

“It’s not an actual pool,” he blows out a slow bit of air, while you try to understand what he’s thinking. It isn’t about where he takes you, it’s just about being alone and uninterrupted.

“I know exactly what is happening to your body,” of course he does because he’s made other women feel like this. You want to scream, and tell him to leave you alone.

“Because there are other women who understood these feelings, and they were more appealing to you. You don’t have to tell me about them every chance you get. Please, Ari, go finish your chores, and I will see you at dinner,” you need to end the conversation, and you begin to spin around, but he grabs ahold of your wrist, “Ari?”

“I’m not walking out that door with you feeling jealous,” you aren’t jealous. You are angry. “There might have been other women, because I wasn’t shunned into thinking that it was a sin, but no woman has ever appealed to me the way you have. No other woman has made me feel as hard as you do,” that phrase. It meant something important. That’s what the books stated. “We’re continuing this conversation at the swimming hole tonight. Don’t worry about dinner. You’re eating English pizza.”

He drops your wrist, and marches out the front door. Picking up his shirt, he shakes it out, making sure the hideous creatures that marred his skin were no longer there. He should have got another one. What did he even mean? Harder — that could only describe one thing. But you’d have to ask Ari exactly what it all meant.

You wring your hands together as you pace around his living room. You had already watched the hired hands leave, and Ari picked up his phone, and dialed a number and was gone. He told you the conversation would continue, and you want it to, but you’re nervous. Nervous about him, or what he thinks. Nervous about you and whatever your body is doing. But you like it. Really like it.

And that kiss, you are swooning so hard. He put his tongue in your mouth just like the books said. And of all the books you read, you couldn’t have been prepared for the actual alarms that went off in your body. How perfect it felt, and just how sparks flew through every limb and ligament, and you felt as if you could fly.

The books didn’t fully prepare or warn you of that. How it felt like there’s fish in your stomach swimming around. Or how you ached, and throbbed in ways you couldn’t explain, so he had to do it. He had to come clean and tell you everything, but how do you start that conversation? You know what you have to do, but you aren’t sure if you have the guts to actually do it.

Could you go through with it? Ari isn’t the average man, and you know he’s not going to fall for your — is this what games are? One book mentioned the games women played. Are you playing games with him? No. You’ve made it clear, you told him what you were feeling, and he wants to continue the conversation. And there are — things that happen in the books. Where the men put their hands, and other things, and they have opened up so many possibilities, and you want to explore them all. You think. So many questions that you need answered.

You jump back a step, and put your hands behind your back as Ari walks in through the door with a box of pizza, his bright eyes looking you up and down before motioning to the kitchen, “Do you want to eat here, or do you want to have a picnic?”

“Picnic. I think you need to cool down, and get the dirt off you,” he nods, and grabs a few sodas from the fridge, and a blanket. He starts to walk out the back door, and you skip off after him. There is a tension in the air that can physically seep through your bones, and you want it smoothed away. You know that he’s not angry with you, he’s just lacking the words to say to you.

Stopping at the swimming hole, you grab the blanket from him, and lay it out on the ground, and he places the drinks and pizza down. He tugs at his shirt, until it’s thrown onto the blanket, and you watch his muscles ripple, and he’s kicking off his boots, and yanking his pants down. Standing in front of you like the giant he is. “Are you going to join me?”

“Nobody comes out here?” He shakes his head no, starting to walk backwards to the river, and you gulp. Reaching towards your buttons, before dropping your hands. Your eyes scan over the location before you tell yourself this is what they do in the books, and you like Ari, and want to feel the way those women did.

Your fingers tremble as they undo each button one at a time, and you let your dress fall to the ground. Ari’s boxer briefs tighten instantly as he stares at your backside. The cute bikini cut of your panties having a bit of your asscheeks hanging out. The soft pink color sitting on your skin like it was painted on there.

And then you turn around with your arms covering your top. You are wearing one of the matching sets he got you. “I can’t see anything you don’t want me to see,” timidly you peel your arms away, and walk towards the river. He stands up, walking closer, and you yip. He’s bigger, like he was before. He holds up his hand and you take it, so he can assist you in the water, and get a bit more coverage than before.

“You look beautiful,” he can’t help the way his eyes move all over every bit of exposed skin.

“Vanity is a sin,” keeping you covered was the sin.

“And I’m no angel,” you knew that to be true. He was both holy and unholy. A twinge of guilt pangs in your chest, as you glance between the two of you.

“How do they fit?”

“Hmm?” He shakes his head, meeting your eyes again. He has to focus if he wants this conversation to go anywhere. But the way your nipples are pressing against that thin material has him ready to blow a loud immediately. The fabric already see through with the moisture, and it’s pointless now. You should just remove it.

“My panties. Did they fit well?”

“Yeah,” he answers dopely, and you glance away with your cheeks setting on fire. The heat spreads throughout your body, as you stare at him through the crystal clear water. He’s even bigger. And your body longs to feel him against you again.

“Remember when you told me if ever I have any questions, you’d answer?” He gives you a nod. Letting his mouth sink below water, he swims and floats all around you like a shark with his meal for the night. Circling you like his prey, while you try to find a less blatant way to ask a question.

Him surrounding you just lights everything on fire. Like your blood is lava, and even the cold river isn’t stopping it. Things are happening to you that you didn’t understand, and even if you’re overwhelmed, you don’t hate it. You want to understand it, and want to know how to quell it.

“I guess first things first,” you inhale deeply, looking at him, and unable to take your eyes away. It’s like he needs you as much as you need him, and that doesn’t even make sense. “What’s a cock?”

So much happens in such a short time. Ari inhales before his mouth can get out of the water. Choking and sputtering on the water that he sucked into his lungs, and you’re able to maneuver yourself in front of him, and you grab his face, trying to get him to calm before you sink under water. Forgetting that you can’t swim because Ari is in trouble.

He lifts you up, bringing you straight onto his body, and his eyes capture yours. You feel both of your heartbeats in the most bizarre places as he clings to you. Those thick hands splay a bit too low on your back, to the point it isn’t really just your back. He’s so big. “What did you say?”

“A cock. What is it? It’s not like a rooster, obviously.”

“I think it’s better for me to show you,” you asked the question, and he couldn’t help his slimy little comment to come out. He’d show you his cock whenever you want him to. He wants to make an offer if you see it, you have to taste it.

“What does that mean?” Holding you with one arm, he pulls your hand, placing it on his swollen underwear. You whimper as you look into his eyes, and his hand flattens on yours, guiding you to massage his bulge. “And that’s — what goes in me?” How is that ever going to fit anywhere on you?

“What?”

“And that’s where the cum is from. Mmm,” your eyes look through the water, watching your hands as it palms his cock. “Can I see it? Is this how fucking works? Your cock goes into my cunt, and you shoot your cum into my belly. Would you want to see the cum leak out of me? I have so many questions, and you’re not answering, you’re just moaning. What do you taste like?”

“You’re killing me,” no you weren’t. In the books, this is what the men wanted the women to do. They wanted to fuck them deep and hard, and fuck their mouth. This is what men want. “Where are you getting all these words from?”

“The books. So, if you’re not in your underwear, how big is your cock. And what’s my cunt…oh my,” your eyes roll into the back of your head as his hand cups your covered mound, and you bite at your lip. Both of you rubbing each other, and it still doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Like something is missing. “What is fucking then?”

“You probably shouldn’t say that around your community. That’s a very bad word, and you’re such a naughty girl. But if you really want to know what fucking is, we got to start by stretching. Can I touch you under the panties?” He’s never prayed before this moment, but he prays you say yes. All this conversation has done is create a need to feel you from the inside.

“What?”

“It’s easier for me to show the true function of your cunt, if I can go inside of you,” you moan. Your body curves more into him, bringing your core right to his cock. Your body needs to be fucked, but you deserve to have someone make passionate love with you.

“Like finger fucking? Fingering, right? You’ll scissor your fingers inside of me, so you can stretch me out? Yes, can you show me?” His pinky moves aside your panties, and when his bare hands touch you, the moan you let out doesn’t even sound human.

“Shh, you’ve got so much repressed sexual energy, you’re about to blow before I even touch you. This right here, is your pussy, or as you like to call it your cunt,” you didn’t quite understand. His fingers roam over your split, but they were nothing compared to what you held in your hand. His fingers feel baby like. His cock that you try to wrap your hands around feel otherworldly.

“But this,” his fingers push past through your body, and you feel him in your throat. Pressing your forehead against his, and you can no longer hold his cock as you let his fingers roam around inside of you. It didn’t make any sense, and even though you know it will be frowned upon, this pleasure is too good to give up. “This beautiful hole, is your pussy. But…”

Ari’s mouth falls open as you succumb to the pleasure. Your mouth agape, and brows furrowed as you just feel him. “If I can make you come, are you going to give your pussy to me?”

“What’s coming?” he adds a second finger, and you raise your body off him a bit. The stretch is much more intense, and the fullness is mind-blowing. This is what going dumb means. There’s no thoughts, just the way that Ari is making you feel, but also how he feels inside of you. Like he belongs there. A thumb presses down on your entrance, and the sounds that flow out of your mouth make Ari moan.

“I can’t explain coming, you’ll just know. This is your clit,” his thumb circles around the little bean, and your body jumps around. You didn’t believe in magic, but if you did, it belonged in Ari’s fingertips. Your body starts rolling into him, lifting your drenched tits out of the water.

The fabric of your bra is too thin, and your nipples protrude out. If you think you’re overwhelmed, he’s a dead man. His eyes don't know what to look at. He wishes he could see his fingers dragging in and out of your heavenly pussy. Desires nothing more than to see your tits free and bouncing around as he fucks his fingers into you. But it isn’t until he feels your walls flutter, around that he just stops and enjoys what he sees.

Eyes closing tightly as he drives in harder. Faster. Curling his fingers, he hits a tender spot that takes all thoughts away. Tight circles on your clit. Everything working in harmony. Until the dam breaks, and you are gasping and panting for air. Unable to open your eyes, he lets your cunt relax around him before he pulls out his fingers, placing them directly into his mouth where he can suck off your diluted juices.

“That’s coming,” he’s so proud at how well you took him. How beautiful and perfect you looked as you came undone, and he wants to see it again. And again.

“So different from cum. Will you show me your cum?” You are trying to murder him. There’s no other way around this. You are saying all the innocent and filthy things that come to your mind, and he wants you to partake in everything. Whatever books you’re reading, he’ll buy you five thousand more, just so you continue to stay curious for him.

“I’ll paint you with my cum if that’s what you need. But, you just had your first orgasm. I think it’s time for us to eat. Maybe you can show me your pussy outside of the water,” you take some staggered breaths before you open your eyes, looking at him confused.

“But it’s your pussy now,” fuck, he says in his head, and your staring at him seriously. “But how does a cock feel going inside?”

“Not a cock,” you don’t understand. That’s what the books say. “My cock. But not today. I bet that was your first kiss today wasn’t it?” You nod your head. It’s not something that’s done. Things like that are for marriage. And you’d assume whatever his fingers were doing earlier is as well.

“And there’s other lips I can kiss that’ll make you feel even better,” Ari gives your sweet little cunt a few taps with his palm, and the way you look at him so sweetly and whisper please has things on overdrive. He maneuvers you to his front. Coaxing your legs to wrap around his waist as he grinds you on him. “Just like this. You feel how hard you made me?”

“Yeah,” you struggle to get out. “You’re so — big.”

“And you’ll learn to take every inch of me. I’ll have you stretched out so wide around my cock, and you’re going to beg for me to go harder. You’re such a sweet girl, but you want to be my filthy little slut, huh?” In the past you’ve heard those words in such negative terms. But when Ari calls you his, it has you melting into him. Arching your back, you see his eyes go to your breasts.

“You’ll suck on my pebbled peaks, too?”

“Darling, I’ll suck on every part of your body,” whimpering out his name he moves you over him harder. Grunting, growling, and deep breathing. He watches you. You’re about to get off again, and it’s a shame he can’t see your body glistening with his cum that’s about to blow all over your virgin pussy.

“Darling, I’m a sucker for you. You ready?” You nod your head excitedly as he crashes his lips into yours. He devours your moans, gifting you with his own. Creating waves in an otherwise steady river with your movements, until you feel the most beautiful warmth spurt against your skin. “That’s what you fucking do to me. I’ve never came like that before.”

He pants as he looks over your face. Your eyes are wide as they watch him. “It may be a sin, Darling, but you’re worth it,” and you think he’s worth it, too. There’s no way these Amish men could ever be so vulgar with you. It’s depraved, and you sink even further into his hell with him. Your purity be damned because you know it belongs to him.

“I think the books my sister suggested for me to get are complete and utter trash. But you keep reading, and figure out what you like. Write it down. Maybe one day I’ll not only fuck you, but fuck my cum inside of your cunt so deep, that…” he stops, what the fuck was he saying? He’s never desired for children. But the thought of you filled to the brim with his cum, and watching it drip out of you has him reeling. The thought of fucking you everyday before you go home thrills him. Have you walking around with a used pussy, and nobody knows that he took your virtue. They didn’t deserve you.

He has visions of you taking him every way possible. Sobbing out his name while he has his seed dripping out of you. But it isn’t enough. That is just for him. The lips of your pussy swollen from how hard he fucks you will be just for him. But your belly swollen and full of him, nobody could deny. He would have you and nobody else could. He’d have to save you and take you away from this disgusting place. And this is just crazy.

“But, refrain from talking about fucking, and my cock and that beautiful little pussy. Let’s keep it to just us. If you do, I’ll make sure you get to come on my cock.”

“Do I get to taste it?”

“Fuck,” he sighs. You want to try it all, and are eager, and scared, and timid, and it makes it that much more satisfying. Your little bit of jealousy ignited something inside of him. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you, and the thought of him fucking some other woman made you angry. No, it pissed you off. Made you all bratty and snippy. He wanted to push you to your knees, and shove his cock past those pouty lips to remind you the only person that is making his dick wet is you.

“Darling, the first time I come inside of you, I’ll gather the leaking cum with my cock, and let you suck it off. Two holes will be filled with me,” it sounds so — you can’t even think of words. You just know that the books and Ari are your undoing. But once that door is opened, can it fully be closed?

You had Ari inside of you, and you craved more. Addiction is a sin, but Ari was worth sinning for.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

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[rush-the-stars]

Dogfight

pairing: nicholas d. wolfwood x reader, vash the stampede x reader, vashwood x reader

wc: 4k what the actual hell lol

cw: jealousy, mild smut/suggestive content, fighting, blood, biting, marking, possessiveness. the boys are jealous of each other sorta but then get on the same page. minors dni, 18+ only

a/n: this is for an anon that asked me about jealous vashwood and then i spent days working on this and it got too big so i made an Official Fic Post rather than just answering the ask bc im insane and unwell lol this is also probs more 98 vash and wolfwood than stampede! i hope you enjoy!! banner from @/cafekitsune

∘₊✧───────────────────✧₊∘

The first time they meet you, its through a shower of gunfire. Your wild smile is all that’s left when the smoke clears.

Wolfwood thinks he hasn’t seen anyone so damn beautiful in his entire life—streaked with blood and eyes lit up like a flame, twirling a twin pair of pistols like fucking ribbons.

And Vash thinks maybe he’s in love? And then he shakes his head and tries to clear it, tries to clear you from his vision, and at least the smoke disappears some. And the chaos stills. But you smile all crooked at them, tilting your head a little in greeting and he feels wobbly all over again.

“Happy to save your asses,” you say, “buy me a drink?”

Vash hears wedding bells.

(It’s just church bells tolling in the distance.)

“Happy to—happ—“ Vash trips over all his words.

“Shit, I’ll buy you dinner, too.” Wolfwood says.

Vash looks at him, Wolfwood looks back. And then they’re stumbling over themselves to get up, clambering and clawing and falling over each other and they must look like foolish, scrapping dogs in the dirt at your feet.

You laugh, though, warm and amused.

“Settle down, boys. bar’s still standing—you can both buy me a drink.”

And they’re left to watch you walk away and talk to Meryl, whose shaking her head and rolling her eyes at them. You introduce yourself to her.

And they both scramble after your heels, right on the tails of your skirts.

***

You sleep with Wolfwood first—

He’s surprisingly gentlemanly with you, even if you can feel the desperation and hunger that he tries to keep so far from the surface. He’s all bravado, all honeyed words and little growled praises as he squeezes the fat of your hips.

He gets you so wet it’s almost embarrassing, except that he also makes you come so hard that you forget about it almost immediately. He adores being between your legs, adores tasting and taking—being on his knees for you.

Wolfwood is a worshipful man. Devoted. Adoring. With a little grit and bite when you need it.

He leaves a mark or two. Around your collar bones or neck. One on your hip. He can’t help himself.

He takes good care of you in that brutishly charming way of his—fucks deep and hard, carves his way through you and makes you toss your head back into the pillow and pull at his hair. He loves to please, loves to be told what to do or what you want. Take what you need, pretty girl. He hums to you, groaning when you tell him how good he feels.

Rarely impatient except when you rile him up, Wolfwood makes a good lover. Fun and obedient and affectionate.

You adore him.

***

Wolfwood and Vash get testy with each other.

Tensions are high—Vash is surprisingly sharp with him, in a way that makes you a little wary, treating him like a bit of a ticking time bomb.

Wolfwood doesn’t help. He’s an instigator and if there’s one thing he loves, it’s to get under someone’s skin. Especially someone like Vash, whose usually easy and cheerful and kind.

“Would you leave it?” Vash snaps at Wolfwood, shoving the man’s hand off his shoulder. He bares his teeth a little and in the dim light you see the knife-sharp flash of his pointed canines.

“I was just trying to be friendly,” Wolfwood drawls in a way that indicates he most certainly wasn’t just trying to be friendly.

“Something the matter?” You ask and when Vash’s eyes land on you, he immediately softens. He looks guilty. Hangs his head a little and looks at the ground.

“No,” he says, “sorry—“

But Wolfwood says, “Blondie’s got his panties in a bunch about something and I was just trying to see what was wrong—“

Vash’s eyes flash.

“Nick,” you snap. Short and sharp, like reprimanding a dog.

He looks at you. You look back. Then you jerk your head to tell him to get lost, “take a hike.”

“And who made you the boss?” He snarks.

You level him with a more serious look, hand on your hip, “I’ll find you later.”

“You can’t just order me—“

“I wanna talk to Vash.” You respond firmly, “and you’re being a jackass.”

He stares at you for another long moment. You don’t back down, in fact you tip your chin up a little, meeting his eyes with a flash of authority.

He looks at Vash, who quickly glances away.

He scoffs, “whatever. You’re both a pain in my ass.” But he listens to you and skulks off.

You turn to Vash when he’s out of ear shot, “you okay?” You ask.

Vash can’t look at you. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that—“

“Not your fault. He can be a pest. Walk with me?” You ask and now you hold up the crook of your elbow.

Vash eyes you uncertainly for a moment, before he lets go of a small breath, and siddles up to your side. He loops his arm through yours and you begin to guide him through this little, nowhere town. The sun is setting. The dusk sky is smoky and golden, like a quartz glittering, shadowed and shining.

“You seem—“ You choose your words carefully, “troubled lately.” And then you amend, “more troubled than usual.”

“I’m sorry to worry you but everything’s fine.” Vash shakes his head.

“Vash,” you implore gently, shaking his arm a little. “I can tell something’s bothering you. Won’t you tell me?”

“Ah,” Vash says weakly, “it’s alright.” And he looks ahead, out at the horizon. You follow his gaze. There's nothing out there but the line of land in the distance.

“Thanks for standing up for me tonight but you should—you should go find him. He’ll be waiting for you.”

And then Vash drops your arm and walks away, his head down, a little furrow to his brows. And you watch him go, dumbfounded.

When you return to Wolfwood, he’s waiting for you on the porch of the little inn you're staying at, smoking a cigarette.

“What the hell was that all about?” He gruffs, blowing the smoke from the corner of his mouth.

You don’t answer him at first. You slip into his lap easily. He raises his eyebrows in slight surprise, but immediately adjusts, one hand around your waist, the other holding his cigarette away from you.

“You need to leave him be.” You say, sighing as you sink into his embrace.

He pauses for a moment, looks at you—really looks at you.

Then he says, “he wants you, you know.”

“Is that what this is about? Are you jealous? Is that why you’re pestering him?” You rub your knuckle against his stubbly jaw, pet him a little. He leans into the touch, nudging himself against your hand.

"You like him?" He asks instead.

"Course I like Vash." You hush, fingers moving to card through his hair.

He takes a slow drag from his cigarette before he leans away to blow the smoke away from you. It lingers in the air around him and for a moment, you look at him through the haze. The smell of it reminds you so thoroughly of him nowadays that you almost crave it when its not around.

"No," Wolfwood corrects, "do you like him the way you like me?"

"You think I like you?" You tease, but he doesn't take kindly to that and jostles you in his lap a little and even goes so far as to jerk his head away from your touch.

"Woah, take it easy," you say, realizing he really didn't like that joke, "I was only playin' with you. I'm in your lap, aren't I?"

He softens a little. Lets go of a breath. He squeezes your waist, maybe in apology. To soothe the ache, you lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw, pepper them lightly down his neck.

"You didn't answer the question." He mumbles and you feel more than you see him flick his cigarette down and crush it with the heel of his shoe. He pulls you closer now that his other hand is free, slots you tight against him, and leans back to give you more room at his neck.

"Would you be mad if I said yes?" You murmur, carefully kissing at the pulse in his neck. You hide there.

"If i was?"

"You aren't good at sharing?" You coo, nudging your nose against his jaw, up to catch him in a quick kiss. He nips a little in answer.

"Not usually," he finally says.

"Not even with Vash?" You ask, because you know him better than he'd like to admit. And now you pull away to look at him.

To really look at him.

His eyes flick away, maybe bashfully, "yeah, well—I don't think I'm the one you have to worry about."

"What do you mean?" You ask.

He shrugs a little, "you think cause he puts up the goody-two-shoes act that it makes him good with sharing?" He asks, "why do you think he's gotten so pissed with me lately?"

You hum in acknowledgement. "Have you been rubbing it in?" You ask.

"Not intentionally." He says. And then when you look at him more pointedly, he admits, "not intentionally most of the time."

"Well, we'll see if Vash can share." You finally say and lean again to kiss him.

But in a sudden move, he grabs your chin, forces you still. Forces you to look at him.

"Only Vash, you hear me?" He says. His eyes are dark suns, all encompassing and imploring and fiery, "anyone else and I'll lose it."

You can't tell if it's a warning with the slight waver in his voice or a threat, with the growl behind the end of it. And then you remember scared dogs bite.

"Only Vash." You swear, "only you."

He settles a little, leans back again, and this time, when you kiss him, it's harder. More a claiming than a kiss — more a damning than a passion. He gives it back tenfold.

He litters you in little marks, in his scent, and drops his blazer around your shoulders in the morning. At breakfast, right in front of Vash, he catches you in a sharp, burn of a kiss.

More of a claiming. More of a damning.

***

When you sleep with Vash for the first time, it’s after a near-death experience. You were being reckless. The room is charged.

And Vash kisses you not like it’s the first time, but like it could be the last. He's the heat of a falling star, searing you, devouring you. He's all desperation. All starvation.

You'd thought with how sweet he usually was, that he'd be even more well behaved than Wolfwood, but that is far from the truth. He's a little untamed, untrained and clumsy and ferocious.

He whines as he takes you apart and you think he'd probably take praise well if you could teach him but right now he's just so— raw. So yearning and famished with it all.

You've no choice but to try and give everything you can in hopes of soothing him in some way. Filling the emptiness in him. And even still, you're aching and sore and torn-up after all is said in done.

Vash is bashful and a little remorseful about it come morning.

But you twine your arms around him and kiss him hard in reassurance. In encouragement.

He's passionate and all-encompassing. He's all your world in this moment.

You adore him.

Later, when Wolfwood sees the marks he left on you, he curses.

"Is he a fucking vampire?" He asks, tilting your head to the side to see the dark bruise in the side of your neck. But then he realizes how tender you are still, how aching, and he coos all soft.

Tells you he'll lick the wounds Vash gave you.

Says. I told you it wasn't me you had to worry about.

Vash avoids you and Wolfwood for nearly two days.

On the third, he finally breaks.

And when he does, he bundles you in his red coat after a long day, fists his hands in the collar of it to pull you towards him, and kisses you hard in front of Wolfwood, underneath the dark heavens above. He says he'll be back later.

Your lip throbs from the nip of his teeth.

(When Wolfwood kisses you shortly after, pushing Vash's coat from your shoulders, he soothes the sting with his tongue.)

***

For awhile, all the boys do is fight when they're around each other. It's getting to a point where Meryl is avoiding them at all costs—and you're just short of joining her.

The worst of it is on one of the hottest days in a long time.

Wolfwood says something he shouldn't—asks Vash if he could smell his cologne on you. Asks if he likes it.

It's too far. Usually, they bicker and fight over unrelated, stupid shit.

But that strikes a nerve.

And it's so fast that you don't even catch it, and suddenly Vash has Wolfwood pinned against the wall, hands fisted in the front of his shirt.

You always thought, maybe just on height and weight alone, that Wolfwood was stronger. But looking at Vash now, easily pinning him, you aren't quite sure.

"Oh, you wanna finally fight?" Wolfwood asks, baring his teeth, too.

And really, it's like when dogs fight.

It's fast and vicious. It sounds worse than it is—snarling and growling and wrestling with each other. It's artless. You've seen them both in a fight and this isn't—this isn't that. It's better, maybe, on Wolfwood's end. He's not trying to kill Vash. But maybe it's also worse, more personal, more brutal.

You hear Vash yelp—Wolfwood curses. More fighting.

You yell at them, the way you shout at fighting dogs, grab hold of Wolfwood around the collar and pull hard enough that he stops from his place over Vash, panting.

His mouth is bloody and it drips down onto Vash, his teeth still bared and crimson.

For a moment, they look at each other.

(And Vash thinks wildly, looking up at Wolfwood, sorry about the blood in your mouth. I think I wish it was mine. He tastes blood himself and wonders if it is Wolfwood's. If he really did bite him.

Wolfwood thinks, hit me again. If that's all you'll give me now, I'll take it. Wolfwood looks down at Vash, feels his heaving chest beneath him, and thinks, if I can only have you this close in a fight, I'll take that, too.)

You're cursing them both out, hauling Wolfwood off of him. You're furious and shaking and you're scolding them both.

You're fussing over them both, too, angrily wiping at their mouths and inspecting their wounds.

And they both think, maybe I should pick more fights, to see you like this, too, flustered and livid and worried. Doting. Adoring.

You shake your head at the both of them but—

You adore them.

***

It takes another man sniffing around you for them both to finally get on the same page.

And if it's one thing about Vash and Wolfwood, for all their bickering and differences, they know when to shut up and work together.

The moment another man starts chatting you up at the bar, they both go still and silent.

"You see what I'm seeing?" Wolfwood asks.

"Yeah," Vash says, eyes narrowing behind his glasses as the man manages to make you laugh. He leans all close to you. Vash has a near visceral reaction to jerk up from his seat beside Wolfwood.

Wolfwood grabs his arm.

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin' then?" He asks.

Vash spares him only a glance—his eyes are trained on you and the man at your side. He grimaces. "Probably not. I don't wanna kill him."

Wolfwood barks out a laugh as Vash adds, "but I don't want him here, either."

"You wanna chase him off?" He asks. "Or you want me to be the bad guy?"

Vash swallows.

"She'll get mad at me for being an asshole. She'll be all pleased with you for being so good." He says and there's a dryness to his tone, a certain resignation or—

"Why would you do that?" Vash asks and he finally peels his eyes away long enough to look at Wolfwood.

To really look at him.

He shrugs, "I don't mind being in the dog house."

Vash eyes him.

Wolfwood smiles a little, "and I think she's hot when she's mad."

Vash frowns at that, a little twitch of his lips, almost in a pout. "Besides that—I meant—why would you do that for me?"

Wolfwood looks back over at the man at the bar, whose gotten even closer to you, his shoulder almost brushing yours. You're smiling and playing nice. Wolfwood's hackles rise. He bristles. He finally stands, too.

He never feels this way when he sees you with Vash. He never feels this way on the nights when Vash has you. In fact, the idea of it is—it's—

Kissing you after Vash. Knowing he'd just kissed you. Sinking his teeth into the ridges of marks Vash leaves on you, like he's trying to get his own taste. Or compare his teeth to Vash's. Maybe he growls and snaps at him and bares his teeth the next day, too, but he never feels like this.

Scared and mean and angry and—

"What, are you gonna make me fuckin' say it?" Wolfwood snaps.

"Say what?!"

Wolfwood slugs his arm hard. The flesh one, so he doesn't damn near break his knuckles doing it. And Vash yelps all high and Wolfwood wants to shake him and he also sorta wants to hit him again. And maybe he wants to kiss him stupid, too—

"I don't—" Wolfwood swallows hard, "I don't mind sharing. With you. With only you."

Wolfwood looks at him.

Really looks at him.

And then Vash turns the deepest shade of red.

Wolfwood's face gets hot all over, too. "Oh, Christ, blondie—did you really not know?"

"I don't know what I thought!" Vash says and his voice gets sorta high.

"Well—" Wolfwood shifts, uncharacteristically nervous, "what about—I mean, do you—are you okay sharing...with me?"

"At first, I thought I wasn't." Vash admits, "and I was jealous of—" he swallows, "I was jealous of both of you, if I think about it. You're just—you push my buttons more than she does—so. I took it out on you, mostly."

"Ah," Wolfwood says, "you took it out on her, too. Just in a different way."

Vash cheeks somehow get darker with color and Wolfwood laughs, realizing that he's—it's relief. He feels relieved, finally, as he laughs.

"You're a dumbass." He says to Vash.

And Vash smiles at him, crooked and boyish and stupidly handsome. That smile that Wolfwood has always liked.

Wolfwood then turns his gaze back to you, back to the man at the bar whose leaning in all close. He sees you tip away, adjusting your space. And he says;

"Now let's go get our girl."

The moment Wolfwood comes up behind you, you know there will be trouble unless this man doesn't leave quick — what you aren't expecting, is Vash to come up on the other side of the man. You tilt your head.

You feel a broad hand on your lower back, "he botherin' you?" Wolfwood asks, leaning all into your space.

The man sizes up Wolfwood, weighing his chances still and you can nearly feel Wolfwood stiffen and bristle behind you. He doesn't like being challenged.

"He was just seeing if I wanted a drink."

Vash, on the other side of the man says, "maybe he'd like it if I bought him a drink instead!" And though it's said brightly, it's almost a little too bright.

Vash's eyes gleam like the cold edge of bright moons.

You look between them for a moment as the man says, "alright, what the hell is this? You her boyfriend or something?"

"Or something." Wolfwood agrees casually.

"And whose this guy?" He snarks to Vash, "her other boyfriend?"

"Or something." Vash says, still smiling, and that really pisses the guy off.

"Would you back up?" He snaps and he shoves at Vash enough that he stumbles away a few steps. And before he can do something stupid, you put yourself between Wolfwood and the man.

"Leave him," you say lowly to Wolfwood, whose hackles are raised.

Wolfwood isn't looking at you, he's looking at the man behind you and his eyes are hard and cold and mean looking.

"Nick," you say, "I don't want a bar fight."

"Worried he can't handle me?" The man asks, "no wonder you were letting me chat you up."

Wolfwood jerks a little in your hold and Vash speaks up, laughing a little, "no reason to fight! Wouldn't want to clean you up off the floor."

Well, that does it.

The man swings on Vash, who yelps a little, but easily evades him. When he ducks, the man connects with another person behind Vash.

Damn it all.

The bar breaks out in pandemonium. Wolfwood shoves you beneath him and Vash works on ducking and diving out of the way of the first few swings sent his way. Shouting and glass shattering, raining down from above, makes you curse.

Wolfwood dodges the first punch thrown his way and he shoves you out of the way, before he takes a swing himself. When he connects, it's a nasty punch. Blood erupts.

Food is getting thrown. Alcohol sailing overhead, soaking the fighting crowd and angering them further. The poor bartender is hiding, ducking behind the counter and shivering.

You clamber atop the bar to get a look and—it's a wild crush of people, fighting and wrestling and breaking glass over each other's heads.

You put your fingers to your mouth and whistle—the loud, piercing kind that usually gets everyone's attention. This time, there's so much noise and shouting, that not a soul stops their fighting.

You pull out one of your pistols.

The shot thunders in the bar, makes your ears ring.

Everyone gasps and yells in surprise, instinctively ducking, covering their heads. But they all finally turn to look at you.

"Everyone out!" You shout, "take your fighting elsewhere!"

Grumbles erupt. But you hold up your pistol and shout again, with more force and fire, "out!"

The bar begins to stir, all the patrons dislodging and shifting about, detangling themselves from their fights. They meander in knots of people, twisting out the door slowly.

When Vash and Wolfwood appear again, they look disheveled and Vash's lip is busted. Wolfwood's sunglasses are shattered. You put your hands on your hips as you look down at them.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with you two?" You snap.

Wolfwood reaches up to lift you right off the bar and back onto the ground in front of him. He shrouds you, "nurse our wounds?" He asks.

"You're a pain in the ass. I told you I didn't want a bar fight."

"He didn't throw the first punch, in his defense." Vash speaks up, but he's talking sorta funny because of his lip, which is swelling even now.

You sigh, "let me see."

Vash siddles up to you, a little sheepish, with that puppy-dog look on his face. He bends down a little, so you can get a better look at his face, dipping his head down in a show of submission.

Woflwood, behind you, whistles. "That's a good one, blondie."

"Hurts." Vash says as you carefully inspect it, debating if he'll need stitches or not.

"You gonna kiss it better?" Wolfwood asks.

"Why don't you?" You snark back, "since you two are finally working together it seems."

Vash smiles a little, which makes him wince, which makes you scold him. Wolfwood laughs, cooing a little, before he says, "alright, alright—lets get him patched up."

And you walk out with them at your skirts, hovering around you, dogging your steps. They follow you all the way back into your little room at an inn on the edge of the world.

And they settle in like they both own the damn place.

Wolfwood is tormenting Vash a little, whose whining and coming to your side for aid. But they're both—getting along, at least. And they're both demanding all your attention and taking up space in your room and—

And you adore them. You adore both of them, even with all their damn dogfights.

[gatitties]

Web of love

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: your worst night followed by a wonderful day, are you slowly going crazy? Maybe, but you'll get out of here no matter what

─Warnings: blood, self-harm, anxiety attack, hallucinations, obsession, toxic behaviors, stalking, yandere stuff

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

The blank pages: Part One / Par Two

YOU TRY to control your shaky breathing, no one would take away the poor quality of sleep you had at this point in your life, but having nightmares right now was the last straw that broke your patience.

You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, your face was slightly wet because you needed to splash yourself to clear your thoughs, the cold water didn't help much anyway, you slapped your cheeks with moderate force hoping the feeling of mental numbness would go away, but again it didn't work.

"What the hell is wrong with me…?"

You touched your right cheek, slightly red from the previous blow, focusing your gaze on the reflection of the sink mirror, you were a complete disgust, never, not even in your worst period of exams, had you seen yourself so emaciated, the dark circles and bags under your eyes, the lack of color in your face, your frizzy hair, its lack or decrease, bloodshot eyes… you could continue to despise yourself while you stare at your reflection for hours, bringing out each of your flaws.

But there was one that bothered you beyond your appearance, your lack of emotions, your lack of thoughts, you refused to show anything other than a blank expression to those people who ruined your life, you refused to have to think complex things while they took care of everything, not being able to do anything on your own you began to stop complicating your life by thinking about solutions.

Who were you? What were your goals? Your tastes? When did your memories start to become blurry? When was the last time you really smiled? Were you real? Or just a corporeal desire of psychopaths eager to have something precious to protect? Since when was everything so gray, so monotonous? Did you still consider yourself a person with rights and freedom? When did you start accepting this?

"Hey… Hey!"

Focusing your lost vision again in the mirror, you weren't very surprised that you were hallucinating after having a brain as soft as baby food, it was you, maybe a couple of years younger who was speaking to you through the reflection, your mouth opened but no words came out as if you were a fish out of water.

"What's happening? Is this the future that awaits me? You're pathetic! Look at you… Where the hell is your stupid smile? You used to smile a lot before, why…? Why have I become a puppet?"

Your words mixed with a murmur, feeling how your heart squeezed painfully in your ribcage, your mind deciding to continue the macabre game of your existential crisis, replaying memories with your family and all the warm moments that kept you sane until now. You closed your eyes hoping that the hallucinations would disappear, but you only managed that instead of visuals they were audible, reproducing words of affection from your parents in a loop like torture, the breathing exercises you did before to calm yourself stopped working now, you bit your lip so hard that you ripped off some skin, not enough for you because you started running your nails down your arms, leaving red marks from the friction and force.

"You're better than this, what's all this whining about?! Get up and stop being a coward! You will only drag me into this meaningless future!"

"Shut up…"

"Are you even worth anything? You're so boring, I don't understand how those sorcerers want to protect you."

"Shut up."

"Are you going to cry to sleep like always? You are a disgrace, you are lucky, lucky that someone can love you so much, what would you do without them? They are much better than your own parents, accept it, accept it, they love you unconditionally! Even without knowing who you are or how you feel, even without knowing what your purposes are, they will love you! Accept your desti-"

"I said shut the fuck up! Silence!"

You shook your whole body, holding your head, you hit it a couple of times against the wall, so hard that even a couple of tiles fell off, a few drops of blood fell from your head, but you didn't care, the voice, your voice, it was gone, you swallowed your own poison, locking your inner, dark thoughts deep in your brain.

Your mind continued numb for a couple more minutes where all you could hear was a faint sound of static and a constant beeping, but it was more calming than having to listen to your own voice in that twisted way. Getting up once you calmed down a little, your reflection returned to normal, you splashed your face with cold water again, cleaning the blood on your head, nails and lip, taking one last look at your pitiful person, with your head still full of unknowns.

"Why is this happening to me?"

You rub your eyes tiredly, cleaning up the mess you had made, you decide to lie down on the cold bed once more, tucking yourself in and looking at the ceiling waiting for your body to magically disintegrate into ashes, too pretty to be real, when you realize the rays of light make your eyes hurt and sting, one more sleepless night, a new day awaits.

Faking and ignoring your nighttime crisis you get up to do your morning routine, being greeted by an overly cheerful Nobara as you passes through the dining room to look for some breakfast, you couldn't say the same for Megumi, who looked much more tense than normal, you didn't know where the others were but you didn't care much either, and Nobara and Megumi didn't say anything about your appearance, whether they noticed it or not, you're just glad they decided not to ask anything.

"You look like you've experienced the worst existential crisis of your life."

You spit out what you were drinking when you heard Maki just enter, from her appearance you could tell that she had gone out for a run early in the morning, Toge and Panda followed behind her, everything fell into a silence that was too uncomfortable for you because they stared at you carefully, completely ruining your efforts to hide your bad appearance.

"Just a bad dream…?"

You mumbled, avoiding everyone's gaze, Toge approached you, patting you on the head as if that would help you, although it was the most comforting thing you felt this week, it didn't feel as forced as other interactions.

To your relief, everyone continued with their things, while you ignored what they were talking about and continued eating breakfast, their talk became louder than usual, you frowned at this, deciding to listen lightly to the conversation, you froze when you remembered what they were talking about, the Kyoto school exchange, even though you didn't sign up for that stupid ceremony, as a student you had to, at the very least, be present, but you knew that a large concentration of sorcerers would only cause you more problems than solutions.

You knew why Megumi seemed so tense when the other students showed up, they didn't seem to have a very friendly relationship, they all seemed quite focused on the rivalry between high schools, which made you happy since the focus of attention wasn't on you, but rather in Itadori since he seemed to be targeted by the Kyoto school just for being Sukuna's vessel. The bad thing was that you had to stay in the teachers' room, with Gojo and a couple of other guys, the good thing was that you fell in love, Utahime was your spirit animal, definitely someone to admire just for her hatred of Gojo.

"So, why don't you want to compete? I can tell that you have quite a bit of accumulated cursed energy."

"Aww, meeting my favorite student? Well that's a delicate topic she doesn't-"

"I'm not talking to you, shut up."

You smiled internally when you saw Gojo's kicked dog expression, who didn't even let you talk to Utahime, she looked at you again, completely ignoring the albino's presence, it was, the first time since you arrived here that you felt like you were having a normal conversation with someone outside your life, someone disinterested in your protection, it was the most real interaction you had since then and it had to be ruined, not by Gojo, not by any student… curses, a planned attack, a lot of chaos was caused that you barely understood.

"Don't fight and don't try anything weird, although I'll know anyway, stay safe!"

It was the last thing Gojo said to you before leaving with the others to see what was happening outside, you couldn't have cared less about his words, and although locking you in your room was the main idea, your wires got crossed with your little sanity, if everyone was distracted by a greater evil you could use that to your advantage.

Since both sorcerers and curses were completely absorbed in their stupid fight, you used that to go outside, first it was a couple of meters, you didn't notice anyone, the capsule didn't stop you from leaving, so you walked further away, elated by your minimal achievement, you started running as fast as you could, reaching the busy streets of the city, smart enough not to go near the places Nanami frequented.

It had been a long time since your heart had been beating like this, so wild that you thought it might come out of your throat, you coughed for air once you stopped in a park, collapsing on the ground, you lied there, you laughed like a crazy person, some tears escaping of your eyes as you looked at the sky brighter than ever. You couldn't believe it, you were alone, with no one watching, you could feel all the positive emotions hitting you, there were so many sensations that you didn't know how to feel, but definitely much more relieved.

The smile on your face was indelible, you were happy, the world at this moment was painted in much more vibrant tones, the palette stopped being a constant tone of gray, you smiled at children, the elderly, you caressed animals, you bought a few flowers and then randomly give them to some people, completely in a bubble of happiness.

Although the bubble had to burst at some point, whether due to your subconscious or the pass of time, you knew that your sudden disappearance would only cause more of a stir, you wish you were left for dead, but you know those sons of bitches wouldn't have that in mind unless they saw your death with their own eyes or found your inert body.

Using your last moments of happiness, you decided to treat yourself to some of your favorite sweets, saying goodbye to the clerk who served you with one of your best smiles, you took the long way to the jujutsu high school, hoping to delay your reunion with your "loved ones" as long as possible.

"Stop there! Aren't you the missing girl? You've given us an incredible headache, come on, I'll take you back."

Someone you hadn't bothered to meet grabbed your wrist, pulling you without even waiting for you to react, analyzing her appearance, she was quite similar to Maki, maybe a family member.

"What a pity, sorry for the headache, but can you let me go? I know the way Maki number two."

At this moment the least you wanted was a confrontation, but your mood had not completely dropped, although now you were a little more upset than happy, your emotions overflowed, causing you to be a more sarcastic and sassy version of yourself.

Mai stopped instantly when she was called Maki number two, you had definitely found her weak spot, which turned into a passive-aggressive chat between the two of you, you would have been angry, but you couldn't be angry when you enjoyed the criticism you were giving each other, honestly it improved your day and you felt more human than before.

"Oh thank goodness you're fine! I thought those dirty curses had kidnapped you!"

Nobara didn't waste a second in hugging you as soon as she saw you, Itadori following her a second later, you assured them that you were okay not wanting everyone to crowd around you as the others also wanted to ask where you had been and why you disappeared when they were under stroke.

You drowned out the emotions you poured out during the day, swallowing everything, turning your expression blank as you felt Gojo's powerful gaze on you, everything calmed down for the next few minutes, the two schools finished the meeting and the Kyoto students left, before that you decided to exchange phones with Utahime.

Once you got rid of your companions, you locked in your room, unlike many other nights, you threw yourself on the bed, grabbing a cushion and screaming as if you were one of those teenagers in love in those saccharine series, you moved your legs in the air by pressing the cushion tighter between your arms. Changing your posture, you looked up at the ceiling just like the night before, with the big difference that now you couldn't contain your emotions, you giggled, biting your lip lightly, not noticing the wound you got earlier.

You saw it, you saw light at the end of the tunnel, ─not that way of course─, you saw how a door opened before your eyes, a new opportunity to free yourself from the chains that kept you captive with all these psychopaths, experience freedom after so much time made you delirious, made you imagine that you could get rid of them, that they would leave you alone, even if it was risky, your only option was to escape, run away from everything and everyone without thinking twice, without thinking about what can happen in the future, you would give everything to re-experience what you felt today when you ran away.

You sighed dreamily as you remembered the feeling of freedom, closing your eyes, not worrying about whether you were going to be able to fall asleep today or have another boring game of chess, oblivious to the blue eyes that watched from your window.

"It seems like someone is in her rebellious stage, maybe she need some restrictions…"

He muttered, unhappy with your disobedience but excited to see you happy, he didn't think he would see it so soon, your smile was beautiful just the way it was and you decided to hide it like that for them? They were only worried about you, why did you have to keep all that to yourself? They wanted to be part of your happiness, couldn't you understand it? Well, they will make you understand it no matter what.

Once he made sure that your breathing was stable, he entered your room, kissed your forehead like every night, only this time he sat next to you, caressing your head slowly, observing how, even while asleep, your silly smile was still painted on your face, the flash of his phone made you frown slightly, but you didn't wake up.

"I hope you rest well today, I'm sorry for not helping you the night before, but if I had come in you would hate me more, wouldn't you?"

He said to himself, closing the door slowly, giving you one last look before leaving, he sent the photo to the group chat he had with his students, reviewing the last photos where any of the four were able to capture something more emotion than indifference. Just like you, the small display of emotions only opened another door for them, that small display of freedom for you and emotions for them, was simply another trigger for your problems, after all, the more you move, the more you get tangled in the web.

[ma1dita]

no hard feelings

this was a request! find it here

words: 5k (CHRIST)

summary: How can you be in love with someone you barely know? Feelings are hard. James potter x fem!reader

warnings: none! Angsty, tumultuous feelings, insecure!reader, teenage awkwardness, consensual veritaserum dosing, tiptoeing around feelings, headboy!james

a/n: why is james always so easy to write for… hope yall like this one!! I miss having a crush lol

(posted 12/14/23)

—-

“You’re staring again…” Dorcas drones next to you one day in Potions class. Your ears are barely listening to Professor Slughorn drone on about the magical properties and proper use of Veritaserum but your eyes are most definitely focused on James Potter, as they always are. It’s kind of hard to not notice him when his energy breaks through every room he walks into.

“Can’t help it. He’s doing that thing again…” You mutter, leaning against your arm as Dorcas flips through the pages of the textbook. Air escapes you in a puff of exasperation and your quill thumps against the desk in a tiny rhythm. The truth serum you both have been brewing for the past month was steadily bubbling in your shared cauldron, colorless and almost complete, if it weren’t for your usual distraction in the form of Hogwarts’ most eligible bachelor.

“Him being a nuisance?” She smiles at you crookedly, looking at the soft gaze in your eyes.

“Him existing. How dreadful for me.” You say simply before turning back to the task at hand.

There’s something about James Potter that captivates the female gaze. All of Hogwarts knew, hell, he did too. Whatever it was, it’s starting to get annoying. Your eyes flicker back to him, hair swishing as your head shakes in contemplation. Dorcas grins at your predicament, this not being a new topic between the both of you.

James glances at you from his desk at the back of the room, fingers brushing the metal frame of his glasses as he catches you looking at him again, and he smiles boyishly when he sees your eyes dart elsewhere. Compared to other girls’ ostentatious efforts to grab his attention, you’d always been more reserved and standing a distance away. And despite your mutual friends, you both had never really had a proper conversation. Not alone at least. So yes, you may have an insanely big crush on the most popular guy at Hogwarts, but it didn’t mean he’d have to hear it from you. That would involve…having to actually find time to talk to him, which proved to be difficult with every girl that spent their free time batting their eyelashes at him, sending him declarations of feelings in the post, or falling over in front of him to ask him on dates. Slightly pathetic, but you admired their bravery. Silence was your own death sentence, and perhaps it was more suave in your mind. The cool girl who was anything but. Godric, why are feelings so annoying…

Your heart rate stays elevated through the rest of class, and as you pack your things, you rush to put your stuff in your knapsack, digging through the leather to find a hair ribbon. The distraction impairs your vision and your foot slips on a leather strap. Your body runs right into a solid wall of muscle, sending you into James’s seated frame, and both of you sprawling across the classroom floor.

“Wotcher, love,” Sirius laughs as he sees the blush rise to your cheeks. James daintily grasps your waist as you’ve landed bent over onto his lap, feet tangled in the fallen chair.

“I am so sorry…” You blubber, hair in your face as you scramble to lift off of him. Both you and James kneel on the floor picking both your belongings up, and you feel like the Earth could swallow you whole right now with everyone staring at you.

“Looking completely stupid is what. Pete, you have to stop putting your bag in the aisle! I could’ve killed Potter!”

Peter blushes as he nudges his bag with his foot, and James hands you back your things, both of your hands touching as you figure out who belongs to what. Your hand fumbles over a clear vial of Veritaserum he definitely wasn't supposed to take home, and your eyes meet James’ with a tilt of the head. His grin screams mischief, biting his lip, and taking the glass from between your fingers with a wink. I won’t tell if you won’t, his gaze says.

“Not a problem, darling. Anyone would be honored to be trampled by a pretty lady,” he says finally, dusting off his pants and offering you a hand to stand up. You scoff, taking it and not meeting his eyes in embarrassment. Remus lifts the chair that toppled over, handing you the hair ribbon you spent so long finding.

“Thanks, Rem. See you all later at the party?” Bobbing heads follow you out of the classroom where you are quickly bombarded by a gaggle of girls calling you lucky for bumping into James.

“You’re so smart for falling on him like that…” “He seems so strong picking you up so easily…” “Did he smell nice today? He always smells nice…”

All of the chattering voices make you laugh at these mere acquaintances who don’t care as much for you as they do for the boy standing in the doorway with his friends.

“Off to class now, ladies.” James reminds them, his Head Boy badge gleaming against the sunlight in the corridor. They scatter, leaving hushed compliments and giggles in his direction. But you don’t look at him at all, tying your hair back almost methodically. His eyes fall upon the slope of your neck, and he’s got that look in his eye…

“What, James?” Remus asks inquisitively, all four boys looking at you as you walk off down the hall.

“How come she barely talks to me?” he ponders, shoving his jumper over his elbows, and Sirius slings an arm over his best friend as he laughs.

“All the attention you get, and you’re still greedy, huh?”

“Not that, she talks to all of you so easily, and then she goes and calls me Potter like we aren’t friends…” he says, swiveling to look at his boys, walking backward to see their reactions. Well, he didn’t expect them to laugh that hard.

“Are you though? She’s our friend, we hang out with her… Have you ever had a real conversation between the two of you?” Pete points out, scratching the back of his neck.

“Suppose not…”

“Suppose you should… She’s really nice. Pretty funny too.” Remus pipes up.

James thinks back, and regrettably, he can’t remember much about you, always a wallflower in his periphery. He hasn’t made much of an effort to get to know you since you started being around the gang. Maybe that should change.

“She’s stunning, if I’m honest, boys. Way less forward than the other birds…”

“I can see an idea forming in your head James Potter, don’t even start…” Remus says, book in hand ready to hit him across the chest. Sirius and Peter laugh, starting to run around the two, and everything stops once the sandy-haired boy blurts, “Word out is that she majorly fancies you, Prongs…Maybe you should go for it!”

James stops in his tracks, bumping into a marble column as they round the corner. How can you like him if you don’t know him…and he doesn’t know anything about you?

“Highly unlikely, Worms. She doesn’t even call me by my first name…” The new predicament of this admission rises to the forefront of James' mind, and it’s all he can think about for the rest of the day, through the rest of class, and Quidditch practice, up until he gets ready for the party at Gryffindor Tower.

—

You’re getting ready with the girls, hands brushing over microscopic lint on your silk top, and you’re quite unsure of why there’s a nerve-wracking feeling overtaking your body.

“You look lovely, babe,” Alice says as she admires you from Marlene’s bed, legs hanging off the side.

“I need a drink,” you laugh, looking at the girls through the mirror, and Mary tosses you a shooter of firewhiskey to ease the nerves. The door swings open and Lily walks in, looking almost sternly at the lot of you.

“How are you all still up here? Everyone looks beautiful, now let’s all get drunk! Godric knows we need it after this week we’ve had…”

The girls walk down the stairs to the common room, you following slowly as your eyes meet the crowd of students all partaking in the grand celebration of nothing. Merlin, you love this school. Cracking the bottle open, you toss your head back as you take the shot, and then Sirius is swinging you around onto the dancefloor as you try not to gag. The party is in full swing—students dancing on the tables, drinks flowing, and music playing as loud as possible that you wonder how McGonagall won’t shut this down by midnight.

James tries to find a moment to talk to you all night, but he can’t seem to get an edge in. Were you always this popular? You were always dancing with someone else, or talking to a friend, and it’s also distracting to have girls trying to chat with him about who-knows-what, and he almost gets frustrated at the fact he’s unable to catch your eye.

“James, do you think I look pretty in this dress?” a hand grazes his bicep, and he remembers he’s in the middle of a conversation with… Flora? Frannie?

“Mhmm,” he mutters noncommittally, eyes searching the crowd for where he last saw you, watching you walk out towards the balcony.

“Sorry Fizz, gotta go find someone!” He skirts around the girl who yells, “It’s Faith!” almost indignantly, and James shakes his head as he weaves through the sea of drunk people to reach you before you get away again.

You stand on the balcony, alone. The party hums on behind you, through the open doors, but all of it feels miles away. You take a deep, steadying breath into your chest as you stare out into the field. The quiet serenity of the night and the alcohol is giving you a head rush, making you dizzy and lightheaded, but you feel your pulse beating like a drum as your hands are steady on the railing.

Sudden footsteps break the silence, and you turn to find that James is standing right behind you. He places his hands near yours as he steps closer, staring out into the night as well.

"Leaving so soon?" he asks as he slides up beside you.

"Just needed some air," you reply, looking towards the dancing masses spilling out onto the stairs and tables behind the glass.

"What’s a Gryffindor gathering without its resident life of the party?" he teases, leaning on the railing and smiling cheekily at you.

“Says you…” Your eyebrow quirks at his boldness. You don’t think you two have ever even been at a table alone, much less out here on the balcony by yourselves.

James is leaning close to you, still gazing up at the night sky. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your neck, and you suddenly have a strange urge to turn to him, to look him in the eye and tell him how badly you wish to have a proper conversation with him. For him to know you like you know him.

His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, a sly grin on his face. James raises an eyebrow, almost as if he's reading your mind.

"Can you keep a secret?" His voice is like cinnamon, sweet with an edge.

“If it’s about the Veritaserum, I didn’t see anything….” you joke, throwing your head back.

His eyes flash with amusement as he smiles at you, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

"Maybe you should look up at me for a minute." You turn to look at him, and your heart flutters at his words.

"I want to ask you something," he whispers, his face close to yours. You're not sure why he's whispering - there’s no one else out here, but you don't mind.

"What?" you ask. James grins at you, and you can't help but grin back. He pauses, biting his lip to hold in his laugh, and then he leans in closer, his face so close you can count his lashes, curly hair falling softly against your temple.

"Are we friends?" he asks, and the hilarity of it makes you scoff, but the smile on your face lets him know it’s not unkind.

"Maybe, but not really. You've always been out of reach for me, Potter."

"Do you wish we were?" He seems genuine in this moment, hazel eyes staring into yours as if he's trying to see into your soul. He's always been popular, and he knows girls fawn over him, but he's never spoken to you this way before. Perhaps his bravery only goes so far when he’s with you.

"I would love for us to be friends," you say quietly, unsure of his intentions. "I'm so awkward around you, I just... have a hard time saying what I want to say. It always feels like I'm going to say something stupid." You blush as you admit this, but you force yourself to meet his eyes.

James gives you a light, charming laugh, and you're left speechless as your words fade away. His eyes are so intense, and the way his jaw sits firm just makes you want to melt into a puddle at his feet. You stay still for a moment, your heart racing, waiting for him to say something, do something you know you don’t have the guts for.

"What if we tried..." he pauses as if he's thinking it through himself.

"Just being completely honest with each other? For the rest of the night?" he asks, his fingers pulling a familiar stolen vial out of his pocket.

"For the rest of the night?" you ask, your voice slightly shaky. "I... I don't know if I can..."

He tips a few drops of Veritaserum into both of your drinks.

"Bottoms up." He downs his cup in one go.

Your eyes meet his in shock, your lips slightly parted as you take in the realization that you'll finally get the truth out of him. But in the adrenaline that courses through your veins, you don't stop to think that this will affect you too. He can see how nervous you are, and he winks at you, and his voice drops to a whisper.

"Trust me," he urges, and it's impossible to deny his request with a smile like that.

“You’re crazy,” you mumble, but you take a heavy sip of the Veritaserium-laced drink anyway, and every single word that's on your mind attempts to escape, the air around the two of you feeling charged with blind confidence.

"We're playing a dangerous game here, Potter. Too bad I've had enough to drink to care."

You laugh at that, and he chuckles along with you. The alcohol seems to make the Veritaserum work even faster, and it's not as if it tastes bad. In fact, it's rather delicious. Addicting.

"You're right," he replies, laughing so much that he has to hold his sides. The mirthful grin that curls into your lips is only increased as you take in the scene before you. "So. What do you want to know?" he asks. He puts his hand on your waist, fingers grazing your belt loop and you feel your blood rush to your face.

“Do you still like Lily? And if not, do the girls chasing you around school get annoying?”

"Honestly, I'm not sure," he answers you with such seriousness that it makes you grin toothily. This is dangerous.

"I used to like her... a lot." The admission makes you lean in until you can hear his breathing.

"I've never felt anything like that towards anyone else, but I could. I might already." he continues, his voice so low, almost sultry, that your pupils dilate. Watch yourself. You're so taken with the way he looks at you, so focused, that you wonder if it’s really him or the alcohol.

“Ask me something, Potter. It’s only fair.”

James looks down at you with a mischievous smile. "Let's start with the big one, then... what are your intentions with me? Little mouse told me you have a crush."

He says it almost in a whisper as if it's a dangerous question, and you can feel his breath on your lips as he waits for your response. It is dangerous. The way he words it makes you laugh, but instantly, your deepest thoughts come tumbling out of your mouth. This was definitely a terrible idea….

“I genuinely think I’m in love with you,” you admit to him, unable to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

“But you barely know me, so you probably think I’m crazy,” you blurt out, hand slapping over your mouth.

"And I've wanted to be near you since the first moment I ever saw you. Something about you is... so..." You trail off, suddenly shy with your words, but you can feel his eyes on you as he waits for the rest of your answer.

"It's silly," you say, not wanting to admit the true reason you want him.

James grins at you and his nose brushes your cheek, the scent of his aftershave making you weak. He could be extra mean right now, coaxing the rest of the truth out of you with a single word, but the embarrassment that wrestles in your being is enough for the next few lifetimes.

"It's okay," he whispers and places a hand gently on your cheek, his fingers brushing against your skin.

"Maybe things will be different now that I know."

He stares at your lips and then suddenly asks, "Do you want to kiss?" His voice is soft as silk, and you can't believe that you've heard right. What the hell just happened?

“Um, no. Sorry.” The door cracks open with Sirius peeking out to see the two of you, but you push past him back into the party. James is left dumbfounded by your rejection, feeling like he got caught in a riptide as he drowns in embarrassment.

His eyes are wide as you hurry out the door, and you don't even turn back to look at James - instead, you're so preoccupied with getting away from him and back to your dorm that you almost run into Dorcas, who offers you a curious look as you dump out the rest of your drink in a potted plant.

“What happened, Prongs? You scare her away?” Sirius says with raised eyebrows as he looks at James standing stupidly at the edge in the dark.

“Actually, she’s in love with me and she just rejected me. And I’m on truth serum for the next few hours, and I can't figure out how I fucked up.”

James has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth when he’s left alone, and usually he’s aware of it. But even with the Veritaserum, he can’t figure out for the life of him why you ran away, no matter how many times the boys rephrase the question to him.

—-

You avoid him like the plague in the days after.

As much as you've wanted to pretend that the experience with James with just a figment of your imagination brought on by the amount of alcohol you drank, you can't help but feel utterly mortified around James. You keep your distance, only leaving your room when you absolutely have to, running out of classes you share like you’re being timed.

As the truth serum left your body that night, you’ve become increasingly sure of how you feel about James - even more so than before. It was the first time you’ve ever said you’re in love, and how can you be in love if you didn’t know it yourself before the fact! You're absolutely terrified of looking crazy like that again, of being vulnerable. Even as you try to keep your distance from him, he's literally everywhere, which only makes things worse for your emotions.

It's late in the evening and you're finally mustering up the courage to leave your room and make your way to the kitchens to grab a midnight snack.

As you turn the corner, you stop in your tracks to see James leaning against the wall, his eyes closed as he seems to be enjoying the peace and quiet. The dim lighting of the passageway casts shadows over his features and makes you wonder if he can see you at all. Your heart races and you feel as if you're back on the balcony all over again.

His eyes pop open, almost as if he was waiting for you and you can feel your stomach drop to your feet as he stares straight back at you,

"Where do you think you're going, pretty girl?" He asks, a small smile on his face.

"And why are you out this late?" He sounds almost suspicious, and you suddenly feel like a criminal just for sneaking around him so much.

"Umm... nowhere," you stammer, wishing you could disappear into the night.

"I…” You take a deep breath. Own it, already! You were already caught!

“Are you asking that as Head Boy, or…”

His smile widens, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he steps closer.

“I could, but I’m asking as a friend.”

“Didn’t know you were patrolling tonight.”

He makes a noise that doesn’t sound like a yes or a no, because honestly, he wasn’t. The crinkle of the map in his pocket would give him away if you only knew about it. You sigh, running a hand over your hair and he’s still standing there, waiting for you to say something next.

“I just came out to grab a snack. I missed dinner, so I wanted to go to the kitchens.”

“Can I come with?” And before you can reply, he’s offering his arm out for you to latch onto. You both walk silently through the halls and tickle the pear, and this somehow feels normal, comfortable, though you’ve never hung out alone like this. The house elves whizz past you, tending to your needs, and they set a tray of pastries out for the both of you to snack on. He just watches you silently as you both tiptoe around the true reason you’re both here. You're in the middle of eating a danish when he suddenly speaks.

"Why did you say no?"

You stop, flaky crumbs hanging from between your lips as you look at him.

"I asked if you wanted to kiss me, and you said no. But you said you love me, so I’ve been thinking about it since that night," James says, and you almost spit out your food. Did he actually want to kiss you?

“We were under Veritaserum…I just... I got embarrassed. I've never told anyone I've loved them before." you mumble, eyes falling to the table.

"And you barely know me. Why would you want to kiss me?" you add, dusting crumbs off your shirt. He leans in closer to you on the bench as if he’s whispering a secret.

"You barely know me, why would you say you love me?" James counters, as if he’s making a point. In truth, you know him well enough from hanging around his friends. You just never mustered the confidence to actually be his friend. Intimidating as he is, point A being him leaning so close to you that you think he might smell your fear.

"But I do know you, you just don't notice me." you mumble.

You and James both sit in silence for a moment, still in shock by the words that you've both said. The sound of the creaking wooden floorboards catches your attention as someone enters the kitchen. The two of you freeze, looking up to see Remus entering.

"What are you two doing here so late?" he asks, confused.

"I'm not sure," you stammer, feeling your face flush as you realize that you're both alone together, almost cuddling on the kitchen bench. You grab another pastry off the tray and stand up to walk out.

"Goodnight!" you blurt, walking away quickly, but James isn't letting you off that easy.

"Scuse us Moons, I'm not done with her yet," he says, following your footsteps quickly out into the hall.

You hurry away from Remus and out of the kitchen. All of your fears and insecurities seem to fill you once again as you try to process everything that's just happened. You're halfway up the stairs when James catches up to you.

"Wait," he says, putting his hand gently on your arm. You turn around, your arms wrapped tightly over your chest as you face him.

"I'm not trying to scare you, I just wanted to know," he continues, the dim light from the candles above creating deep shadows under his eyes.

“I just... Why do you care? There's so many girls that go after you, so why are you so interested in me? I already embarrassed myself in front of you like the rest of them. What makes this different?”

"Because you're different," he replies instantly.

"You're honest. Not in the way they are which makes me wonder if they even like me or just want to be associated with me. I want what you have with our friends. I want to know you," he continues quietly.

"Those girls are so focused on the idea of me and what I have to offer, but something tells me you’re different than that. And I want to know you, love. I want to know what makes you tick. You're not just some pretty girl to me," he says softly.

“You already make me tick. Standing here makes me feel like I'm going to burst into flames.” You breathe shakily, throwing caution to the wind as you continue, "You already know you're attractive, and I don't lo----like you just because of that. You're really kind when you help other students, and you don't usually prod at me like this when I can't articulate my feelings, but you're considerate. You asked me if I wanted to kiss you. You care if people are happy, and you make people feel seen, even if they're bothering you. James, even if you're a leader it's because you're a great team player. Even if you don't really know me, it makes my day when you smile at me in class. You...make me feel important."

James just stares at you with wide eyes as you spew words like a waterfall. He suddenly bites his tongue as if he's trying to stop himself, a heavy blush covering his cheeks even in the darkness of the candlelight.

You suddenly take in everything that the two of you are saying - and you realize that he's actually listening. He's really listening. There's such a raw honesty to it, and your heart races so fast inside your chest as you tack it onto the mental list of why you love him.

"So I guess that's why. Even if I didn't know it myself. Sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry for what? For sharing your heart with me?" he asks, his voice growing soft and a boyish smile crosses his face. He steps up onto the landing so both of you are eye level.

"If I asked to kiss you, would you say no again?" he whispers.

“As a friend?” you joke, but you don’t move away when his nose brushes yours.

His voice sends shivers through your spine, and you look up at his hazel eyes as he gazes down at you. He pulls you gently towards him, your back meeting the stone wall as he lowers his lips to yours. You close your eyes for just a moment, but the moment between the two of you lasts an eternity. There’s something electric about your lips meeting his, and the two of you melt together in the darkened alcove. It’s funny how it works, your confidence making you feel like you’re floating as you loop your arms around his neck, and the usually assertive Marauder can’t figure out where to place his hands as they hover over your waist.

As soon as it ends, James breaks away from you as if he's suddenly embarrassed that he’s just kissed you right in the stairwell. Now he’s the bashful one. The taste of cinnamon and mint still lingers even as he steps away, hand scratching the nape of his neck.

"I didn't know what else to say. Can’t seem to be cool around you," he says as he fixes your hair, a quirk in his kiss-swollen lip as he stares at you, eyes twinkling.

"I like you a lot," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I want to be with you. I want you to call me by my first name."

"You'll have to get to know me first. No hard feelings though, Potter," you say cheekily, stepping away and walking back to your room.

All that’s left of you is the forgotten pastry on the ground. James’ chest rumbles with a laugh as he scoops it up, almost skipping away.

—

He doesn’t leave you alone after that. And you make him work for it. It’s new for him, to be someone’s first and earnest choice. He thinks about you often, even when you’re right next to him, and he wants to do this right. James learns to love like you do, quietly, honestly.

You’re all hanging around the Black Lake with your friends as he leans against a tree lazily, both your fingers intertwined in the grass. James watches you laugh at Sirius and Mary splashing each other in the water, and he can see how easy it is to love someone by just watching them.

"You know," he remarks after watching silently for a moment, "you radiate when you smile."

Your face goes flush and you look down at the ground, your fingers still intertwined with his. You can feel his gaze on you, but you're too nervous to look back up at him.

"I like it when you laugh loudly, and the crease in your forehead that shows you’re thinking too hard," he adds softly, and you look up at him with wide eyes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze and a small smile plays across his lips.

“I’m finding all these reasons why I’m falling for you. Is it supposed to be this easy?” He asks, leaning his head on yours.

“Yes James,” you say without hesitating, no Veritaserum needed.

The next time either of you says I love you, it leaves his lips first, and you know it’s true because he’s more than a friend now too.

—

“To feel anything deranges you. To be seen feeling anything strips you naked.” -Anne Carson

love me some tunes! i listened to "you're here, that's the thing" by beabadoobee while writing!

taglist: @jsjcue

[adviceformefromme]

💖 WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR??  - 66 DAYS UNTIL 2025 - GLOW UP SERIES [WEEK 9] - 💖

We are officially 66 days till 2025. It’s creeping in fast, and the new-year, new-you work begins TODAY. You read correct. You don’t wait till 2025 to start showing up as your most ELEVATED, radiant-glowing-self, as someone with goals, purpose, dreams and visions. Someone who is actually putting in the work, no. You start that shit from today, and if you’ve been following the glow-up series it actually started last month. 

So what do you need to do/ know in order to elevate pre-2025. 

If you haven’t already you need to be clear on your TOP LEVEL GOAL. This is that one dream that would make you so happy, the main focus in your life. If it't not clear, or you have too many focus areas, you can brainstorm all your goals and then circle the top three that would mean the most. 

Next you want to break those goals down and figure out which one is going to change your life. For example, if your goals consisted of new car, earn x-amount, meet the love of your life, launch business, go back to college. If meeting the love of your life was the one thing on the list you wanted above everything else this becomes your focus. You need to break down what is blocking you from achieving this goal, what you need to do daily to bring this vision to life, and get really clear on how you want to feel. 

NOTHING COMES ABOVE YOUR PRIMARY GOAL. That means this is where your energy goes. You’re not clutching on to your goal desperate, you are in the mode of preparation and alignment to RECEIVE what it is you desire. 

Let’s break this down further... Your three focus points of your primary goal you need to be clear of TODAY (make sure your journal is with you taking notes right now). 

1] What has/ continues to block you (for example, you’re single keep attracting unavailable men - the root is lack of self worth/ unhealed traumas). You want to get into the nitty gritty of why you are not where you want to be. Get to the root. 

2] Get clear on exactly how you would feel if your top level goal was your reality. You can start with another brainstorm. And from this, you want to create affirmations, using I feel, I am, I decide, I am choosing and you want to record yourself on your phone on a rampage. You need to listen to this daily, getting your energy into the feelings of your desire. 

3] Daily actions. This is your tangible action plan. You’re in your masculine energy making moves in order to move forward. Example, you’re booked in for therapy sessions to finally heal your childhood trauma, you’ve committed to reading two books on the subject before the end of the year, and this week you are going to the book store to pick the first book and start reading 15 pages per day before bed, you are making an effort each day, looking and feeling your best EXPECTING to cross paths with love of your life,  you’re committing to one podcast episode per day on unpacking and understanding your relationship blocks as you go on your daily 10k hot girl walk…

Do you get the jist of what you need to be doing? You need an ACTION PLAN. You would never get in an uber without a destination, so why are you living your life without a clear plan? The GPS is your route, there may be twist and turns along the way, maybe some detours, but ultimately you KNOW where you are going and you have a plan. This is what this work is about. 

Today is the perfect time to take action. No more sleeping on your dreams. No more waiting for tomorrow. Make your plan, follow the steps above, and watch and see how wholesome you feel each day because you are actually investing in you. You’re not chasing anyone, your not following the crowd, you are putting you first and foremost. Remember the work you do today, creates the life you are wishing and waiting for come 2025. 

[thesophistiicate]

How do you practice manifesting?

i strongly take into account my human design chart, so i use it more to inform how i manifest. for me it’s ingrained into my lifestyle. what i do currently:

mood boarding and visual inspiration. in human design my strongest sense is “outer vision” which makes visuals THE most important way for me to manifest. i am constantly collecting pictures on tumblr, pinterest, and instagram so i’m doing this all the time.

using the correct manifesting type. i’m a non-specific manifester so i focus on the vibes and feelings i want. i don’t place limits and i remain very open to possibilities. i usually do this when i am writing my morning pages and also sometimes at night before i go to bed so i fall asleep on those feelings.

morning pages. i write morning pages every day which helps clear out all the junk on my mind. the solution to any problem i have usually just occurs to me while i write and it comes on the paper. i always know what i should do which makes it easier to get what i want (less doubt or confusion). it did take a long time for me to trust myself though.

trusting my gut. i’m a generator in human design so i listen to my instinctual yes/no reaction. i don’t need to go out chasing and initiating. the options are always presented to me and IF I’M PAYING ATTENTION and TAKE THE OPPORTUNITY and DON’T OVERTHINK IT WITH LOGIC i can tell what is a yes or no pretty much straight away. feeling frustrated is a sign i’m on the wrong path so i also take that feeling really seriously. again, took me a long time to get here but now it is easy for most things. the more i get on a path where there’s a lot of yes’s means i’m successfully manifesting and going in the right direction.

putting the rest under the cut bc it’s getting long lol.

growth mindset. if an opportunity falls through i trust that it was supposed to happen that way. something better is meant for me. i take what i learned from the experience and trust i was meant to go through it to be better prepared for achieving my goals. i’m so much more calm this way which also allows me to see opportunities better, bc I’m not reacting to everything from a place of fear, stress, and scarcity.

understand manifesting = opportunities to act upon. i think people forget this. it doesn’t land in your lap, manifesting just brings options to me. i still have to take some level of action which is the hard part!! if you don’t have self worth or self trust you won’t be able to do this well or consistently. you have to actively say yes and do whatever action it requires to follow through. it can be tiny, like sending a message or buying something. but correct manifesting (as a generator) will bring options to me. it’s up to me if i accept or not.

orient my life around my profile and gifts. i’m a 2/4 profile and my gift is gift 3 (highly related to storytelling and living by example). the more i lean into what these mean (connection to community, deep connections, pursuit of knowledge, nurturing others through my writing and storytelling etc) the more smoothly my life seems to go.

i’m chill about it. bc my type is non-specific it’s crucial to be chill. no timelines. no desperation or anxiousness. no trying to decide how it should look or unfold, that’s not my place. the universe has it under control and i don’t need to waste my energy on this. when i forget and try to control too much is when life goes to shit. a hard lesson to learn when we are told to plan every detail and obsess and that being stressed means you’re working hard as a good thing… basically had to unlearn that whole mindset and start over.

sorry it’s a long answer but overall rather than manifesting being some separate activity or just one thing i do, i slowly shifted my entire lifestyle so that it’s a natural part of how i live on a daily basis 🤍

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (1)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: I wanted to write something that simultaneously includes some fun Jade moments as well as my own thoughts on some tropes. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

You’ve known the truth for a while—that this world exists inside a story. This is a world that revolves around a nameless, faceless, flawless main character. This entire world around you exists to serve one purpose: to present trials to the main character until she eventually finds a happy ending with her one and only. This world is created for “(Y/N).”

You are Friend A. Friend A is a foolish girl who puts (Y/N) into a dangerous situation, involving her with the mafia. (Y/N) is saved by a tall, dark, and brooding man who turns out to be a mafia boss. They will face dangers in the underworld until all threats are eliminated, and then they will live out the rest of their lives in blissful peace as though they are good people. Friend A is never mentioned again after page two.

You are Friend A. You are aware of that.

So why don’t you break out of your role in this story? Why should you play your part instead of using this knowledge to change the flow of the plot?

Simply because the plot is beneficial to you.

You are Friend A. You are a core member of the Leech Mafia. When (Y/N) enters the mafia, her actions flick the first domino of a long chain of events, eventually leading to the prosperity of the Leech family and expanding their influence. Because no matter what, this story caters to (Y/N)’s livelihood.

And why should you interfere with something that will eventually pay out big for you?

There she is now, coming down the street with a smile. Her indistinct hair is in a messy bun that she always throws together in seconds. Her pants emphasize her incredibly tiny waist, and her eyes sparkle with the light of constellations when she sees you. A light blush dusts her cheeks even though she doesn’t wear makeup, and she passes all the people captivated by her on the sidewalk, oblivious to their stares, because she doesn’t believe in her innate beauty and charisma—the beauty and charisma that the story says she has.

“Oh, there you are!” Her voice, clear and sweet, rings out to you. You wave back, just as you are supposed to. “You said you wanted to get sweets from the bakery that just opened, right? I’m so excited. I love sweets! I saved up some money just for this.”

A dialogue line full of exposition. You nod and lead the way.

“Have you seen their Magicam posts? The cakes are so pretty.”

Her giggles chime like bells. “I think the strawberry one is the cutest!”

Your small talk has little to no substance. It exists only to pass the time. To be honest, you don’t mind. If this were any normal day, you would have enjoyed this. You would have visited that bakery with (Y/N), gone home with a strawberry tart, checked up on the ledgers for the mafia, and slept while fed and content. But today is the inciting incident of the story, and you have your part to play.

A dark alleyway is where these things always take place in stories. Four men smoking and muttering ominously to themselves lean against a brick wall, hidden in shadow. Their eyes follow your every step. You make sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk so that (Y/N) passes by the alley. As expected, their hands shoot out and grab her arm.

“Hey, you there.” One of the thugs licks his chops. “Got a minute to spare, pretty thing?”

Generic “bad guy” dialogue. Of course, he’s talking to (Y/N). You don’t need to do anything yet except make sure the pieces are in place. A flutter of black fabric in the corner of your vision assures you that the main lead is ready and waiting.

“Get your hands off me!” (Y/N) struggles against his much stronger grip to no avail. The men pull us into the alleyway and corner us against a dumpster. Tasteful.

“Don’t be so harsh.” Another thug whose voice scrapes like glass shards to the ears grabs your shoulder. You don’t shrug him off. Right now, your role is to lay low and let the main character shine. “We just wanna show you a good time.”

“You can fuck right off! And don’t touch my friend.” (Y/N) shows off her generically headstrong personality now. She probably thinks that she should protect you. You are Friend A, without any special characteristics, a piece of cannon fodder that cannot do anything on your own. Even though (Y/N) doesn’t consciously think that way, this is how she perceives the world. She is not wrong for doing so—she’s being sweet, in the way that she is designed to be.

You don’t have anything to do while she shoots off her scathing remarks, so you take your time to observe the thugs. Just as the story you read describes, these men come from an easily identifiable rival mafia. All four have a tattoo of a handsaw on their bodies—the symbol of the Carpenter Mafia, the current major group in the Queendom of Roses. Common soldiers, no doubt. Not anyone of importance . . . yet.

Thug Number One brings your attention back to the conversation by yanking on your hair. It hurts a little. Irritating, but you can bear with it. (Y/N) looks outraged.

“How about this? Since you’re so determined to save your friend, I’ll let her go if you give yourself to us.” He continues with his harassment by grabbing your cheeks with his grimy fingers. You inhale deeply and immediately regret it due to the smell of his breath. Your mind urges you to refrain from giving him a nice fist to the face. Not just from his treatment of you, but also from his gross proposition to (Y/N). Despite your respective roles in this story, she is still your friend. Hearing him throw those slimy words at her leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

(Y/N) puts up a struggle. “I won’t give you anything!”

“Do you think you’re in a position to make demands?”

She hesitates, looking at you with conflicting emotions warring on her features. Takes a deep breath, just as the story says she would. Then, with a wavering voice and a tough façade, she agrees.

You take your cue to run from the alleyway, abandoning her the way Friend A is meant to do. You don’t have to worry. After all, the thugs won’t be able to do anything before the male lead steps in and saves her.

There isn’t much time to waste until you get an update on the story. You hail a taxi to a neighbourhood by the sea. You tip the driver handsomely, bid him a good day, then walk another block before arriving at a mansion. There’s nobody here to greet you except the security guards at the front gates.

You scan the trees. Looks like he’s in a good mood. When he’s upset, he doesn’t usually climb. He hasn’t noticed you yet—his back is turned, his head buried in a particularly thick patch of leaves, and you’re downwind.

“Floyd!”

He turns so suddenly that you’re worried he’ll get whiplash. A grin lights up his face, and without a single reservation, he jumps right off the tree and lands smoothly on your side of the fence surrounding one of the Leeches' many properties. The sun shines across his handsome, sharp features. Of course, the twin brother of the male lead must be gorgeous in accordance with the axioms that govern this world.

“Handfish, how was it? Did Jade meet her?” Even though you are Friend A in this story, to Floyd, you are just his friend. He hasn’t given you a generic nickname like the “minnows” that he calls the family’s soldiers and staff. To him, you are an individual who is interesting enough to grant a personal nickname. Even if that nickname is “Red Handfish.”

“Yeah, he did. I saw his blazer.” You think back to the black fabric you saw before entering the alley. “I bet he’s doing the whole ‘I can’t let you live’ conversation with her.”

In the story, one of the thugs reveals Jade’s identity as a mafia boss in front of (Y/N) before he passes out. How a common foot soldier of the Carpenter mafia can recognize Jade, whose face is kept classified from lower-ranked members of the underworld, is worrying enough to warrant investigation. This could simply be a result of poor writing from the original plot, but you are also an example of the original story’s loose ends. If someone like you, who was meant to disappear after page two, can still have any significance and will instead of vaporizing immediately after you left that alley, then you can’t be too careful.

“Bet he’s being real smooth with it.” Floyd cackles, his raspy laugh reminding you of a chain smoker after five consecutive packs. “She’s gonna fall for it hook, line, and sinker.”

“Of course. We’re talking about Jade.” Even under regular circumstances, he’s charming enough to lure any poor, unsuspecting fool to their demise. “They’re going to come here any minute now. Let’s go inside.”

You pass the security guards and enter the Leech property. A perfectly paved ground with colourful stones and not a weed in sight. A marble fountain surrounded by neat, rectangular hedges. And of course, the enormous white mansion with huge double doors, which in turn have proportionally huge fancy glass windows. For (Y/N) to have a “perfect” ending, the world must allow her to escape her current life of scrimping and saving by marrying her into a wealthy family.

“I wonder what the little minnow looks like.” Floyd hums, sauntering into the living room. “I bet she’d break easily if I squeezed real hard, huh?”

“Don’t do that.” The two of you sit on a velvet couch. Floyd’s long limbs sprawl out and take up the majority of the space. You settle on the far end. “And are you going to keep calling her a minnow?”

“Dunno, haven’t met her yet.”

“She’s very pretty. When you meet her, I’m sure you’ll get the feeling that there’s something special about her.”

The story emphasizes how much Floyd adores (Y/N). She is supposed to become a sort of mood stabilizer for him, keeping him consistently happy in her presence. You wonder if that will actually happen. Floyd can and will throw tantrums around people he holds dear. His mood that flips at the drop of the hat seems difficult to stabilize on just affection alone.

He shrugs non-committedly. Just as you’re about to suggest a nickname he could use, your phone buzzes.

Five minutes away. Jade’s text is short and to the point. You stand and stretch, getting ready to play Peeping Tom.

“Remember, don’t say anything about the original plot, okay?” Floyd’s unpredictable nature worries you. You know that your reminder won’t do much if Floyd decides it would be fun to spill the beans anyway, but you can’t help yourself.

“I know, I know.” He frowns and waves you off. Laughing, you move to the room across the hall. He hates being told what to do, but he’s in a good mood right now. It won’t be a problem.

The front door creaks open. Through a crack in the door, you watch Jade carry (Y/N) in his arms like a princess and set her down on the couch. Smooth, easy, efficient, the way he likes to do everything. Even though you know he is acting, his movements, the soft look in his eyes, are almost believable to you. And you’ve known him for fifteen years. There’s an odd stirring in your chest. Guilt? Envy? You tamp it down.

For a fraction of a second, you swear you make eye contact with him. If he notices you, he doesn’t show it. He seems to redouble his efforts on acting sweet to (Y/N). It might just be your imagination.

Floyd pokes around at the two of them the way he always does when he’s curious about something new. His grating laugh fills the air while Jade bandages a scrape on her knee. Good, the scene is going exactly as described in the story. (Y/N)’s first colourful and memorable experience with her future family. Her new family must be fun, rich, kind to her, and love her unconditionally no matter the circumstances. Her new family has to be better in every way compared to her current one—a mother who passed away at childbirth and a scummy father who neglects her. For an author, these are simply lazy ways to give her a tragic backstory and simultaneously pretend her parents don’t exist for the rest of the story because they don’t add to the romance.

How horrible. How could a late mother and neglectful father not affect a person? How could they simply be written off as another thing the male lead “saves” her from? And for that matter, how can the author casually write in a scene where she is cornered by adult men who are physically far stronger than her, who harass her and make disgusting comments, just so she can meet the male lead? How can they just pretend that won’t lead to any trauma?

You know firsthand how (Y/N) lives her life, because despite the story labeling you as the disposable Friend A, you genuinely have been her friend for the past year. You’ve seen her live on plain rice porridge for days to cut grocery costs. You’ve seen her wear clothes until they are threads because she can’t afford to buy new ones. Oh, but isn’t it wonderful that she’s skinny and looks good in everything?

What a load of bullshit.

[mechaknight-98]

Anniversary Gifts (NSFW) Ft. Haseul

Authors note: in effort to have a more consistent and clear master list with constant naming conventions I am reposting this pieces because Tumblr wouldn't let me edit

You sat in the living room of your shared apartment practicing on your electric drum set (too many neighbors complained about the real one) you had an idea for the baseline of a new song and were trying to hammer it out before your girlfriend got back from work. You had got the basic beating down and were currently working on the other flourishes when the door opened. You were all smiles when she walked through the door. “Honey I'm home,” she said cheery.

“Glad you made it safe Seulie,” you say as she walks in. When she enters your field of vision you barely resist stripping her and ravishing her then and there. She was wearing her denim jeans that flared at her hips just right to make her ass pop, her hair was cut short in the Bob that made you feral, and underneath her leather jacket she was wearing a white blouse that made accentuated her chest.

“You like my ootd?” Hasuel said with a smirk. She knew that you were fighting your urges as she sashayed over to you. She got on your lap and smiled adorably as if unaware of her effect on you, “well you've been quiet, I guess you don't like it.” she said with a cute pout.

“Seulie, I know what you're doing,” you say as she grinds on you.

“Oh and what is that?” she asks feigning innocence.

“Seulie we have planning this dinner for 2 months. We have all of tomorrow and the day after to ruin each other plus after dinner.” You say to your girlfriend who smiles at you like a starved wolf

“But babe I have been on tour for a month and I haven't touched or tasted you. Surely I can at least have an appetizer.” Hasuel says as she grabs your hand and puts it in her pants parallel to her core. You can feel how soaked she is.

“Seulie what gotten into you? You are never this aggressive,” you ask

"Well, I miss my Rockstar boyfriend's touch," Haseul says matter of fact.

You sigh and lift the tiny short-haired woman off of you. As you stand up she wraps a leg around you and kisses you. her aggression in the kiss is palpable as she forces your mouth open with her tongue and sucks on it stealing your breath. when she breaks the kiss a string of saliva is the only remnant of your two connected lips. She licks her lips as she sees you panting, and for a moment you break and return her kiss. Haseul mewls into this kiss getting some relief from the need raging in her body. As the two of you fall deeper and deeper into each other you slip your hand under her shirt and give her left tit a nice squeeze eliciting an enticing moan from your lovely girlfriend.

she begins to undo your belt when your belt and your alarm goes off bringing you back to reality.

"Seulie, we can't do this right now," you say. Hasuel sighs exaggeratedly.

"Fine" she huffs as the two of you get ready. Unsurprisingly you are ready first. being a guy does that occasionally. As you wait for your girlfriend you scroll through Instagram and visit the ARTMS page I scrolled through really bored until I bounced to my Seulie's page where I saw their most recent video and I was shocked to usually see my happy noona twerking with such a seductive gaze. before I could process what happened. She looked amazing as always but your mind was clouded by visions of her riding you. The two of you manage somehow to push the salacious thoughts aside long enough to get to the restaurant a new steak place that had opened up near your shared apartment. Before either of you could order Hasuel made her first power move as you felt her foot move to your crotch. You eyed your girlfriend whose innocent look was doing well to confuse you

“What's wrong viagra?” Hasuel asks

“Seulie…” you start before Hasuel cuts you off

“No tonight I am mommy and mommy wants her good boy nice and ready for when we get home.” to illustrate her point she begins stroking your clothes cock with her bare foot. You groan quietly as she continues to stroke you. Just as you reach the edge she stops and begins talking to the waitress who was walking to the two of you. “Be a good boy.” Hasuel chimes in as the waitress approaches.

You both order; Hasuel gets a tomahawk and you get the house special called a Sterlington which happened to be the name of the restaurant itself. The whole time you order Hasuel is rubbing your cock with the pad of her foot. She smiles innocently as her adroit feet mercilessly slide up and down your cock. When the waitress leaves you look at her and say “Bathroom now” Haseul smiles wickedly.

When you both arrive in the shared bathroom Hasuel is shocked when you get on your knees and begin to hike up her dress as you prepare to eat her out. She barely has time to process when your tongue begins to dip into her folds. She moans and says “Oh god keep going.” you continue your fevered attack zigzagging from her labia and clit back to inside, and just when you felt her near the edge you stopped.

You got up let her dress back down and said our food should be ready. Hasuel fumed at you as you got cleaned up and walked back outside to the restaurant and surprise, you bumped into the waitress who was carrying your food. You smile at Hasuel who is glaring at you in that sexy annoyed you love. The two of you sat down for a chaste and cute little meal.

"I can't believe it's been 2 years already," you say to Haseul

Haseul smiles and says "I know right? It's crazy. To think we met in that Air BnB and now here we are."

"Yeah. I am a drummer for a metalcore group and you are a thriving soloist and piece of ARTMS," you say to your girlfriend. She smiles at you in a way that melts your heart. you reach out your hand and take hers. you kiss her hand and she coos before saying

"Oh such a gentleman." as she speaks she takes a bite of your steak. Her eyes widen. "Oh this is so good," she says as she takes another. She smiles at you teasingly. You counterattack by taking a bit of her food to her surprise. "Oh so naughty," she says with a wicked smile.

After dinner the two of you arrive back home safely and get ready for bed.

"So Seulie...What do you want to do tomorrow?" you ask her response is powerful and poignant.

"This!" she says before grabbing you and bringing you in for a heated make-out sesh. it's moments before you are hard again. which only adds fuel to Haseul's fire. "Take your pants off. She instructs. You oblige happily now not concerned with schedules of any sort. Haseul greedily drinks you in as she watches you strip. she pushes you to the bed and begins to stroke your cock before giving it a few exploratory licks. you groan. her teasing earlier now catching up with you as you leak copious amounts of precum. “Okay you're more than ready,” she says as she steps away to take off her dress.

You watch hungrily as she begins to strip. “Gosh, you're so hot,” you say to her Hasuel smiles

“You've been a naughty boy for mommy tonight so mommy is going to punish you.” Hasuel States. Your cock twitches at her words. Her voice oozes with sexual frustration and seduction “I'm going to fuck you till I can't cum anymore.” Hasuel adds before tearing off her panties and bra and pinning you down.

To say her pussy was inviting and welcoming would be incorrect. Her pussy squeezes you harder than your shared first time. If you didn't completely love and trust her you'd think she was attempting to rip off your dick, but it excited you the wild look in her eyes. She was always so loving doting, and nurturing so to see this side of your noona awaken was hot and alluring. She begins to ride you and you moan out her name. Hasuel watches and feels you writhe under her. She needs you now. So she guides your lips to her and begins another make-out her tongue is almost down your throat stealing oxygen from you as she fervently continues her ride. When she breaks it long enough so you don't pass out as she notices your cheeks are turning blue she asks “Did you see mommy’s video?” you nod Hasuel smiles as she rides you even harder when she feels your grow harder in her. Due to extensive training and excellent body compatibility you both cum at the same time. The orgasm you both share is nearly blinding. While Hasuel sits on top of you she smiles and begins to ride again. Your body reacts violently by pushing her off and plunging back into her as she lies on all fours. Hasuel smiled at you as you smack her ass as you pound into her. She wanted you feral and now she's got it. So you pound deeper and deeper into her your body responding to her moans

“More! More!” she screams and you oblige trying not to lose all control of yourself but Hasuel wants you to use her body like a toy. She wants you to be rough, so she Spurs you on

“Fuck your mommy harder, harder,” she screams, and so you do. You watch as her ass ripples from each thrust and her sopping pussy drips the mixture of both your fluids. She looks back at you with a smirk and both of cum again. You groan as she gets off you. Overstimulated you walk to the bedroom door to get a drink, but Hasuel has other plans. She drags you back to bed and begins to ride you again

“Ah, Hasuel fuck stop.” you plead but her eyes are glazed over with desire. You get hard quickly enough but your body is not happy with the arrangement. As pain and pleasure mix in your body and mind Hasuel rides you

“I said I'd fuck you till I couldn't cum anymore,” Hasuel said entranced as she continued to rise you mercilessly. You groan and writhe under her touch as you both cum again and again and again. By the time Hasuel finally passes out. You are truly spent, and sore. So as you lay there with your girlfriend you smile at her peaceful sleeping face. You kiss her cheek and hug her tight before joining her in dreamland. You are woken up by intense pressure on your crotch and see Hasuel deep-throating you. You groan as you are still sore from yesterday.

“Cho Hasuel please stop.” you plead and she does. She knows you never use her full name unless it is serious. She releases you and pouts

“What's wrong?”

“Minus the fact I still haven't recovered from yesterday, I haven't even given you your gift. Hasuel releases your cock as you lip to her gift. She smiles watching you struggle. When you get back she laughs and says

“I guess I did a number on you.” you nod and hand her the anniversary necklace. She opens the box and her eyes widen before saying. “Oh my gosh it's so lovely.” you smile and respond

“Anytime.”

[fumifooms]

hey i have a lore discussion for ya. so. basilisk chapter: laios is like 'wow monsters that are a mix of multiple animals are so cool! i used to have this fake monster that had all these cool attributes. but i've realized now that i'm older that it's better if a chimera only has two or three animals, instead of a bunch.' however, the Ultimate Monster has about 12 animals in it. and because chilchuck says 'i thought he grew out of this', it's clearly not a continuity error. 1/2

So. Do you think this Ultimate Monster transformation was influenced by the Winged Lion, and it's evidence that the Winged Lion was specifically preying on the fantasies of laios when he was a kid dreaming about being a monster? i've never seen anyone talk about how odd it is that despite laios saying 'chimeras are better if it's just one or two monsters', he still likes his Ultimate Monster design, and even adds the third head to it during the story. 2/2

You’re right that this is a layered topic, but no I don’t think it’s a fantasy he only had as a kid that the WL had to dig for. Below we have a EverydayHeroes Scans glossary page plus the final chimera sketch. As you said, the third head is added during the story. "That scylla sure was cool, let’s add a wolf head in there." Something which he has to note down before going to fight the Winged Lion.

Notice the emphasis on "cool". I think the familiar chapter is the other major relevant bit for this plot thread. It shows us with no ambiguity that Laios does care about aesthetics. It shows us that he can build a monster through logic and be reasonable about it, but he’s also not immune from getting carried away.

Ultimately, it’s still Marcille who builds the perfect familiar that succeeds for the situation, and Laios undermines it for its looks before seeing it in action. Marcille here ALSO mentions how he ‘should have grown out of this phase’.

So yes I mean, I think it’s clear that Laios’ fantasy is a fantasy, it’s not rational or logical or even something good that would work out, and even he knows that. Kind of like how when the winged lion showed him visions of a golden kingdom he reigned over during the succubus-induced dream he ended up saying "yeah… Things wouldn’t be so simple". The winged lion draws from deep seated desires, wether or not the person knows it’s stupid or that they shouldn’t, morally or otherwise, doesn’t matter. The winged lion is brute forcing through enticement for them to cave in. I don’t think Laios thinks becoming a monster would be all that he’s hoped for rationally, especially after seeing the whole chimera Falin situation. It’s like people irl saying they’d like to be a housecat and lounge all day; it’s a fantasy but not something that would really work out, as most people can acknowledge while nevertheless still keeping that pleasant daydream. The winged lion calls it out too! "If you’d wanted to be another kind of monster instead of animal, you’d be invincible right now". His preference for chimeras itself is a matter of taste and not practicality. It’s not well thought out, it’s a craving. Laios wanting to be a chimera is a soup mix of comfort fantasy and childhood coping mechanism and special interest hobby and idealization, and more.

And!!! That’s the point! What saves the world, how Laios saves the world, isn’t a flawless plan! What saves the world is Laios’ most authentic most flawedly human desires, ones he couldn’t control or repress. It’s the weird interest that everyone shamed and denigrated, his uniqueness and feeling of disconnect towards humans, that ultimately saves humanity. Because he genuinely desired becoming a monster, genuinely had that hungry curious nature in the deepest corner of his soul.

The Winged Lion doesn’t work through thoughts and the brain but through wants that are more primal, in your guts, in your heart. It doesn’t seek to checkmate you through logic, it wants you to surrender yourself willingly through manipulating your wants, your weaknesses, your emotions.

It’s like Laios’ curse at the end too, and even the succubus. If Laios were to rationally go through these desires-based trials, it’d reflect his actual wants, instead of just desires and cravings: the curse would have been that Falin can’t be revived, and his most alluring form would have been Falin safe. Dunmeshi in this way is kind of about the struggle of rising above our animality and these deep seated desires that go against productivity and what we actually want, like say, always feeling physically hungry even if you’ve eaten more than enough and knowing you should stop there. Like, it’s why we’re talking about allure and enticement.

Like aughhhh!! Why Laios got to eat desires is because he genuinely wanted to see how it tasted so bad, it wouldn’t have been granted by the lion if it wasn’t something he truly desired, like <3 it’s not something he could have simply strategized he needed to genuinely want it. It wasn’t the plan. It wasn’t plan A or B or C.

Laios my favorite fucked up cinnamon roll who saves the world through his authentic selfish desires

But no I don’t think Winged Lion was preying on his kid fantasies as much as like. The remnants of it that are still there and repressed in him. Kinda like how Marcille’s desire is also about childhood trauma, but if it’d been processed better it might have been different. I do feel like irl we carry a lot of stuff with us that was shaped in our childhoods, often some level of unhealthy and irrational that we have to kinda work through and be like ok that’s enough of that let’s be serious now. And yeah! Yeah. You’re very right that his chimera is strongly associated with his childhood desires though. It’s just that these desires really do stick, and sometimes they can overtake logic, wether or not you’re an adult and wether or not you have a demon on your shoulder telling you to let yourself be tempted.

So yes! Laios knows that a chimera with fewer animals is logically better, but a True Heart’s Desire isn’t always rational or good and his heart yearns for the Rule of Cool.

It’s, again, like the succubi! Laios is interesting for this because the thing with succubi is that they freeze people: they make the prey freeze and not want to resist/run away, but they don’t make it reciprocate either. They don’t- they don’t usually have to reason with them and be like "no i swear we’re totally real <3". Like no one in the party thinks there’s any chance of hot naked blonde women, general Hareus or Izu’s mom actually walking out of the darkness in the dungeon, especially since they were already on guard and knew succubi were going to attack. But with Laios it was more complex than that. And I think it’s way less "oh haha yeah what you’re saying makes so much sense" and more "I want to believe this is real so for a lack of a better reaction I’m just going to not do anything, maybe just maybe it might be". Again it’s enticement, it appeals to your desires. Again it doesn’t operate on a rational level, and that makes sense because the succubi are monsters who seek to trigger your fight or flight or freeze instinct and make it land on freeze; it doesn’t operate on a rational level but a deep seated one that seeks to shortcircuit logic and better instincts. And part of that was Laios’ succubus going "oh your party members have 4 heads each!!!! Ain’t that cool!!!" like, his desire for chimeras and many headed monsters is so not rooted on a logical level.

It’s a silly fantasy. He thinks several heads are cool and he wants them, like the familiar he makes with Marcille. He chooses aesthetic over practicality becahse he wants to try and believe it’ll work out so bad, and truly I can’t blame him.

[pink-amethyst-tarot]

The Universe has a message for you

Take what resonates and leave the rest, only you can decide what is truly right for you...

P I L E 1 - P I L E 2 - P I L E 3

P I L E 1

Strength, Two of Pentacles, Six of Pentacles, Page of Pentacles, Temperance, Nine of Pentacles

Bottom of the Deck: Ace of Swords

The universe is proud of you. You have found the strength and confidence to keep going even though you have been doing a balancing act, one you may have been doing alone. As I look at the Six of Pentacles, I see the scale in the hand of the person that is giving gold to the poor. I see this as a sign that when everything is balanced and settled, you will be able to give in a way that you have been wanting to. You have always been such a loyal and faithful person. Someone that people could always depend on. With the Temperance card, I'm getting that you have found the balance - so much talk of balance - that you needed so that you could take care of yourself as well as others. You learned how to put yourself first. That is paying off for you. You are about to achieve things you can't even imagine. You are being rewarded with success of all kinds because you put in the work. It will come to you like a vision. You may have been dreaming of this or will start dreaming of this new life soon. I'm also hearing something about clearing the path. The path is being cleared for you.

Channeled Message: I am clearing the path for you. Don't worry about a thing. I'm going to make those mountains into ant hills for you. I will move oceans for you. I've got you covered. Don't worry about a thing. I have been looking over you. You are protected.

If you want to know more about your own personal situation, see this post to find out how to book a reading with me.

If you feel called to bless me, my c@sh@pp is $oddlycozycottage

P I L E 2

Ten of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, The Lovers, The Moon (Reversed), Four of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, The Fool

Not only is this a love reading, but this is also a soulmate reading, so buckle up!!!

This energy feels so intense and glowy and beautiful! The first thing I heard was, "Do you know how lucky you are?" I don't even know where to begin! This is going to sound so insane, I don't even believe that I'm bout to say it but you're person is this sexy CEO type, like in those books. This person may make music or own a company related to music and entertainment. This so some happily-ever-after fairytale type of stuff! Y'all sharing the same values feels like something that's really important. I'm freaking out right now! I'm just so excited but slightly overwhelmed! This is the kind of person that you can come home to and they will ease your mind after a long day. I'm hearing, "It's okay, baby, I got you" AAAAAAAAHHH!!!! Like, this person isn't going to let anyone talk crap about you and that includes you. This person is going to be so protective over you and wanting to take care of you because you are their person!! They see you and see that you have been through some things, and they want to help you through that. This person wants to protect you from the world! I'm getting that this person could be a little bit jealous and maybe possessive, but they are aware of it and acknowledge that it's toxic and they work on that. You may meet this person at work or a work-related event. It will be like a movie where you lock eyes, and the words just seems to fall away. This is the kind of love that is healing, loving a nurturing. I'm also getting that your person is going to have you on their arm at these fancy events, like some high society type of stuff. Don't be afraid of this love when it comes in because it will change your life for the better. Wow.

Channeled Message: I'm on my way!! This is the sign you have been looking for. I am all that you have dreamed of and more. You are such a big part of me and I don't even know you. I am so lucky that you chose me. I'm going to show you off to the word. I am a fool for you, my love. I come off cold with others but that's only because I'm saving all of my warmth for you.

If you want to know more about your own personal situation, see this post to find out how to book a reading with me.

If you feel called to bless me, my c@sh@pp is $oddlycozycottage

P I L E 3

King of Swords, Queen of Swords, Four of Wands, Ace of Pentacles, The Hierophant, Page of Pentacles

Bottom of the Deck: Death

For some reason, the universe decided to turn this post into a soulmate post for 2/3 readings so here we are!

To put it plainly, you are about to come into union with your soulmate! I can see that you balance each other very well. One of you is very fun and witty and the other is very cool, calm and collected. Some of you might already be with your soulmate. Whether you are or are not, I can tell you this, you are marrying this person. This wedding is going to be the talk of the town too! Everyone will be celebrating your love. With this Ace of Pentacles, I am seeing that a new opportunity is what is going to bring you too together. It might be work related, like pile 2. (They might be connected so if you feel called to check it out, go for it!) This is something that you manifested. You prayed for this kind of love. I feel like this will be a traditional relationship in a lot of ways, however that may look to you. Specifically, I think it's the wedding that will have a lot of traditional elements to it. This is going to catch you so off guard. This is BIG! This person is going to make you so happy. It's going to feel like coming home.

If you want to know more about your own personal situation, see this post to find out how to book a reading with me.

If you feel called to bless me, my c@sh@pp is $oddlycozycottage

Page Divider by @bunnysrph

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THESE READINGS ARE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. no guarantees are implied. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

[that-one-girls-blog-posts]

you're confused about your emotions ? me too babe, here's a quick reading

I chose random images from my pinterest to read into your energy so you can choose randomly aswell, whatever speaks to you♡ also Idk what's with the 2016 songs today but I kept hearing random ones throughout this reading maybe there's some resonance for you

Pile 1

The Moon🌜

first off I'm hearing that song "we don't talk anymore" by Charlie Puth. So maybe you're dealing with some kind of loss right now, maybe a breakup, a fight with a loved one, a new chapter meaning you have to leave someone behind a little... if this is the case, or similar, allow yourself to be "thrown off" a little, those kinds of situations take adjusting and remember that nothing has to be forever. where I come frome we say : "thunderstorms clear the air" meaning that after a fight there's great potential for healthy communications and solving problems once and for all, for a peaceful and harmonic environment♡ A reading about your emotional state and I pull the moon, how well fitting. The answer truly lays on the inside with this one. no one can tell you how you truly feel exept for yourself! (and maybe your therapist) I think for most of you there's a new season starting and you're realising that it can't be all returning characters. Take some time to heal your relationship with relationships and analyze what and who is truly of good value to your life. you got this!

Pile 2

four of swords🗡 and page of pentacles🪙

for you I'm hearing that song "cold water" with Justin Bieber. And you actually need to take a jump into cold water. There's something you've been manifesting and now that it's slowly getting closer you're resisting the change. Maybe by refusing to let go ? It's like little kids now around Christmas, you can actually watch this happen with slight alterations, all the time. Their parents take them to the toystore so they can see what they like, and they child ofcourse find something but their parents tell them okay now time to go home and wait and see if Santa will bring it. But the kid clings to the shelves and doesn't wanna leave behind the thing they so desperately wanted. Little does it now that their parents just need to get them out of sight so "Santa" can buy the gift and deliver it WHEN IT IS TIME. let go of obsessing, overthinking and trying to "go the right path" and just let the story unfold, take it step by step even if its a little scary and you'll find yourself where you're supposed to be, you're so close already♡

Pile 3

seven of swords🗡

It's too heavy darling you can't carry all of that. You might think you do and you think you're so strong and abundant and successful for "having" all of that but then you wouldn't be feeling like this, would you? A burden, too much responsibility, too many goals or to do's for a person who only has 24hours in a day. I know the card typically speaks about actual betrayal but in this case it feels a little paranoid, like you're desperately trying to do it all on your own because your scared of beeing betrayed or someone messing with your vision or even catching evil eye. For you I'm hearing "Lady Marmalade" yk from Moulin Rounge !? I'm not sure how that fits in here and I never watched the movie but oh well, maybe you know what to do with this information. There could be something about sisterhood and sharing a problem (could be workload or talking about problems...). You might have that lonely wolf mindset, but no matter how strong you are, out there, beeing alone can get you killed. I keep seeing pictures of spiritual communities and churches, you might wanna be looking for something like a mediation or yoga class, bible study group, a coven.... depending on your beliefsystem! you're right not everyone is your friend but also not everyone is your enemy!

ps. reading back this comes off a little weird and I feel like I need to say this. please don't join a cult lol. If you are in some kind of group and things feel off, please take care of yourself♡

hope that helped <3