#very berry lipstick

[kampashanate]

The much better lipsticks can be defined as a cosmetic project known for its deep elegance and uniqueness. These lipsticks appear in various shades, combining shades of purple, red, and pink to create a bold color reminiscent of ripe, berry-like raspberries. The very berry lipstick has become a wonderful choice for people who have thought of adding a wonderful touch to their makeup.

[todaysromano]

Hi! Be sure to do something kind for yourself today! 🧡🥺 Here's a little cake: 🎂

Aw! Thank you so much!

I've actually had a great day today. Cake only could make it better! Thank you ❤️

[babeyun]

the same heart ☆ n.r

synopsis: navigating the beginning of your first relationship is proving to be most heartwarming, including the list of firsts - particularly, your first kiss. genre: established relationship au, slight angst, fluff. pairing: boyfriend!riki x fem!reader word count: 4.2k rating: pg-15. warnings: swearing, use of petnames (baby, pretty, pretty girl, babe, etc.), that's about it LOL. listen to: those eyes - new west ; yellow - coldplay ; heart - dawn ; sparks - coldplay ; i adore you, dear - dwen author's note: as per usual, we've got another birthday fic! figuring out what to write took me a few moments but i will always pull through. happiest birthday to our riki! i love you, little guy.

Things between you and your boyfriend were slightly awkward.

Granted, you'd only made it official a week and a half ago – but something about the way he didn't hold your hand made you feel a bit confused. The way he never got too close if you were over at his dorm for a movie night, the way he'd hug you loosely as he dropped you off at home after a date or just dropping by to check on you. The way he'd gently reject your advances at public affection, opting to smile apologetically as he ruffled your hair.

The way he hadn't kissed you yet, despite the amount of time you spent together, the many dates and what he thought were his unnoticed longing glances.

You were truly in no rush. You knew that this was something new for the two of you, the first relationship either of you had ever been in. You met a year ago, at a record shop shortly after your eighteenth birthday. He may not be into prolonged skinship or public displays of affection, but he flirted with you like it was nobody's business. He poked fun at you as you blushed at his compliments, eager to make you smile and eventually, you allowed his charms to make him a little spot in your heart.

So despite not being outwardly physically affectionate, he had a way with words that made your cheeks hot and your chest flutter. He never stopped flirting with you, even during the many dates he took you on – even with the onlookers, he never minded. Murmurs of pretty girl and gorgeous as he directed your attention to things or simply didn't feel like calling your name, careful maneuvers through crowded areas with his hand ghosting over the small of your back, playful pinches to your cheeks.

Your first date had been very different than you'd expected – the two of you simply perused a farmers market that was a few miles out of the city. He bought you flowers and lunch, and the two of you got to know each other better over stalls upon stalls of jewelry and fine linens, fresh fruit and chopped vegetables ready to be juiced. You'd fully expected him to want to kiss you as he dropped you home, but he only blushed as you made the move. His fingers pinched to your cheek as he stopped you with a soft shake of his head.

"Next time, promise." Next time lingered with a bit of tension, that date being the Christmas light show that came to town every year. He bought the tickets, he picked you up. The two of you opted to share a hot cocoa after seeing how big the cups were, and your lipstick stained his lips a muted berry color. You took pictures at a few trees, and this was the date that soft-launched your flourishing relationship on social media – him posting a picture of you staring at a pink tree with white lights and you posting a picture of a Polaroid a vendor took of you for a dollar.

But still, even after several perfect opportunities, there was no kiss. He dropped you off at home, letting you know he had a good time and wanted to see you again before the year ended. You nodded, and lingered at your door with a pointed look. He bid you a goodnight and you disappointedly said it back, slinking into your house with a dejected look.

The next date was unfortunately after the New Year – you'd gotten sick and he felt awful, stopping by several times to bring you soup and cold medicine. Your mother met him then, and told you that he'd make a great boyfriend – you'd huffed in response, muttering that he didn't even want to hold your hand. Your mother sighed and told you those things took time, to be patient, to be understanding. You slept on it, knowing it would be worth the wait but still feeling a bit undesired.

The date after your cold subsided was one inside – bowling and arcade games. You beat him by a landslide, your last roll a perfect strike. He complained the entire time the two of you wandered around the rest of the arcade, and only stopped when you pulled him into a photo booth. Your poses were of a shy couple just learning to be together, and you were honest with him – you wanted to kiss in one of the pictures. He looked hesitant, offering an alternative almost immediately and you reluctantly agreed – the last photo being of him kissing your cheek gently. He dropped you off that night with another press of his lips to your warmed skin, and a warm apology that you accepted quietly.

You felt your heart warm when you saw the photo strip hanging from his rearview mirror the next time he picked you up, a hole punched in the white border and a soft pink string looped through it. So much so, that you let it go. You stopped asking, but he continued to press gentle kisses to your cheeks and forehead throughout the rest of your dates, accumulating to almost eighty dates within eleven months – you never went more than four days without seeing him in some way or another.

And yet, despite the flirty words, his touch remained reserved. Through eleven months, he swiped your hair out of your face, he continued to pinch your cheeks between his fingers. He kissed your cheeks occasionally, usually on the drop-off or spontaneously every once in a while. He upgraded slowly to ruffling your hair, tying your shoelaces, zipping up your coat. He was sweet, attentive, coy and he made it known he was deeply interested in you.

It'd been almost a year to the date of meeting when he asked you to be his girlfriend during the first snow of the season. The two of you had snuck out to a park late that night, and he was admiring the way you hung upside down from the monkey bars, before he offered to help you get down. You agreed, asking if he'd be willing to get something warm. 

You wound up in a little hole-in-the-wall ramen shop the two of you had gone to during one of your first dates. You recounted it, remembering how you'd burned your tongue on the broth and he'd sprinkled sugar in your mouth, stating he'd seen it somewhere. It hadn't worked but it was funny and you shared a laugh, when he cleared his throat and said he had something serious to tell you.

"Are you okay?" Your worried tone startled him, the way your brows tugged down and your eyes grew filled with concern. He nodded quickly, "I'm fine, I just…sorry, this is hard for me." "It's okay. I'm here." You reached for his hand, but quickly retracted it. He shook his head, reaching for your hands and running his thumbs over your knuckles. "I really, really like you, Y/N." Oh no, you'd thought. He's going to dump me and we're not even together.

The very thought had made your eyes well with tears, his silence deafening as he stared at your hands. You wore a ring he'd bought you at a fair on one of your dates, the dragon egg-like stone shimmering in the low light of the shop when he finally looked back at you. His eyes widened at the sight of you blinking back tears, his hands quickly moving to cradle your face.

"Oh baby, don't cry. What's wrong?" His concern only made your heart sink deeper, the pet name he'd never used before flying over your head as your fingers circled his wrists, the metal of his watch cold against your fingertips. 

"If you're going to dump me–"

"Dump you? No, no, pretty. I wanted to make this official, I just…I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this–"

Your cheeks heated beneath his fingers, your tears blurring your vision as you looked at him. You blinked, a few tears sliding down your face as he tried to wipe them away. 

"You what?" He sighed, his cheeks coated in a bright pink blush as he cleared his throat. "I…want to be your boyfriend." You only looked at him, before letting out a shaky breath. "You are bad at this."

"Is that a no?" He asked meekly, and you swatted at his arms. "You're so bad at asking things! I'm crying, Riki!" "Baby, I'm sorry!" He laughed softly, holding your wrists in his hands. "I didn't know how to ask and I was too nervous to ask Jake. He's too involved in our relationship as it is." Riki rolled his eyes as you registered the pet name, your lip jutting out in a pout as you whined. "You called me baby."

His eyes widened, then narrowed as he thought about it. "Haven't I been calling you that? I swear I have."

You scoffed, "Must've been one of your other girls." He smirked, "Which one?" He didn't manage to dodge the soft smack you landed on his thigh, a pout on his lips as he rubbed his leg. "You want to be my boyfriend but you talk about other girls, we both know I'm the only one hitting your line up." "All the more reason to let me be your boyfriend! C'mon, pretty! I'll be the best boyfriend ever, I'll even buy your mom flowers like I did that one time when she was sick!" He folded his hands together as if praying, making you snort as you wiped your face of stray tears. "What took you so long?" He huffed, "I just wanted to make sure you wanted to be with me. Every time I see you I feel like I'm about to throw up." "Riki…did you just call me ugly?" You chided, and his eyes widened as he shook his head quickly, his hands cradling your face. "What? No! You're the prettiest girl ever, please–" "Calm down, you big baby. I guess you can be my boyfriend." You rolled your eyes, and his eyes widened as he leaned closer into your space. "Really?!" "Yes, really." 

The night ended with him walking you home, practically vibrating out of his own skin as he held your hand tightly the entire way. It'd given you a lot of comfort, but you didn't mention it as he dropped you off at home, your mother waiting on the porch with her robe on and an angry look on her face. She ushered you inside and you were grounded for three days before she decided it wasn't the worst thing in the world – specifically when Riki appeared with the biggest bouquet of flowers you'd ever seen and the softest pout known to man.

She allowed him in and you had a movie night in your bedroom, before he promptly kissed your cheek goodnight and went home. 

Fast forward a few days, the Christmas light show was back in town for the year. Riki bought the tickets, picked you up and you shared yet another comically large cup of hot cocoa, your lipstick a wine red this year. He held your hand gently, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your skin as he held you close to him. You scoured the different figurines this year, your eyes caught by the enormous lovebird display – two swans made by champagne-colored lights and formed into a heart by their necks.

You lingered a bit at it, letting go of Riki's hand to get a closer look. He took a few photos discreetly, before eventually joining your side and moving your hair carefully out of your face. "Something on your mind, baby?" He asked gently, tucking his hands into his coat pockets. You shook your head, smiling at him softly. "It's silly." "Mmh, nothing is silly if you're thinking so hard about it. Talk to me, pretty." He taps your temple, and you shrug. "It's okay. I'm in no rush." "No rush to what? Stop being so cryptic, you know it freaks me out. It's like you're plotting something." He pinches your cheek between his knuckles softly, and you roll your eyes as you swat his hand away. "You know, it's been almost a year since we met and you still haven't kissed me?" He doesn't meet your eyes as you say this, opting to look at the swans in front of you. "Mmh." He nods, before looking at his feet, nudging a bit of gravel with the tip of his boot. You calmly loop your arm with his, sliding your hand into his pocket and intertwining your fingers. He glances down at you, a soft blush on his cheeks that you want to attribute to the biting wind. "Why?" You ask, and he tongues his cheek before shrugging. "It makes me nervous, I guess." "Nervous?" Your voice is an echo of him, albeit slightly concerned. "Yeah. You make me nervous. I literally almost threw up the night I asked you to be my girlfriend." "Correction, you asked to be my boyfriend." You say pointedly, and he scoffs. "Me being your boyfriend makes you my girlfriend." "You sure like calling me your girlfriend, huh?" Your arm nudges him, and he huffs in embarrassment, looking away. You lean your head on his shoulder, staring back up at the swans. A cliché example of lovers, you know, but a lovely one nonetheless. 

"You know I don't mind waiting, right? I'm sure we will eventually." You murmur, and he sighs.

"I know, I'm sorry. I want to, I promise. I just…" 

You glance at him, the way he chews on his lip anxiously as he trails off makes your stomach sink. 

"I'm sorry for bringing it up, we don't have to keep talking about this." You pat his chest, an apologetic smile on your lips as he meets your eyes. They're serious, a look you'd only ever seen on him a few times. You drop your hand from his chest and he moves the two of you down the path.

You see a few more displays, taking pictures within all the decorated trees and once more paying the same vendor from last year for a Polaroid. You both smile and it goes into Riki's wallet. "For safekeeping," He'd whispered into your hair as he placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

The two of you wandered out of the show hand in hand, and Riki offers to stop somewhere for dinner before he drops you off at home. It's routine, the way he opens your door, the way he buckles your seatbelt in for you. The way he hands you the aux and you play jazz fusion, Tutu by Miles Davis filling his car the way it always has after a date.

"I've never kissed anyone." He murmurs as you reach the first stoplight out of the show. His fingers are wrapped loosely around the bottom of the steering wheel, and you nod, looking at him. "Me either, it's no big deal. We'll learn, when the time comes." "It's not that I don't want to. You know that, right?" His voice is shaky as he flicks on his turn signal, and you nod again. "I'm sure you want to, but there really is no rush. I'm not the only one who's waiting, you know? We went on eighty dates, Riki. We've got all the time in the world." Your fingers toy with his earrings, before you card your fingers through his hair. "It's just you and me, yeah?" "Yeah." He's quiet, and you know it's weighing on him as the two of you make the drive to your favorite diner. The two of you share an appetizer, his head resting on your shoulder as you talk about your new part-time job and how you'd miss popping by the record store to bring him lunch. He listened intently as the food came and went, only responding softly to any questions you asked him.

It weighed on you when he was quiet on the way to your house, and how softly he bid his goodbye with a kiss to your hairline and his arm around your shoulders. "Sleep well, baby." Your heart felt heavy in your chest as the next few days went by and he seemed distant. You both planned another date for the arcade, and agreed he'd pick you up after his shift at the record store. You dressed casually, one of his old t-shirts and a pair of black jeans. You wore heavy boots to brace the cold, and nearly tripped over your own feet when he knocked on your front door

"Coming!" You called, your mother poking her head out of the kitchen upon hearing you yell. "Leaving already, honey?" "Yeah, date night." You reply sheepishly, unlocking the door with fumbling fingers and your coat half off your body, and opening it to reveal your boyfriend holding yet another bouquet of flowers. Your eyes were wide, as you stopped pulling your coat on. "For my mom?" You nod, and he shakes his head.

"For you. I'm sorry for being distant these past few days, it wasn't my intention and I'm sure it made you feel some type of way. I should've spoken to you about my feelings, and I know flowers aren't nearly enough but I hope it's a start?" He said meekly, and you scoff out a soft laugh, nodding as you take the flowers.

"Riki, it's okay. I know it's a sensitive topic." You smile apologetically, taking the flowers and turning on your heel. "I'll put these in my room, I'll be right back. Come inside." He doesn't say anything, just gives you a curt nod as he steps inside your house, closing the door and greeting your mother warmly. You quickly walk up the stairs, taking the cellophane off the flowers and setting them carefully in the vase you had sitting on your dresser from past bouquets he'd given you. You'll fill them with water later, you think, as you barrel back down the stairs. You see your boyfriend deep in thought as he and your mother speak, and you don't eavesdrop as you clear your throat. She stops talking, before giving him a warm smile and bidding you a good date night. You thank her, tell her you'll be home before the streetlights come on and a quick love you, bye!

"Let's zip this up, don't want you to get sick." Riki doesn't let you off your porch without zipping your coat up, grabbing your hand as you both step off. "Do you think you'll kick my ass bowling this time, too?" "I'm sure of it." You grin.

And you do. You take the lead within three frames, your boyfriend clearly distracted as he watches you roll strike after strike. You play three full games, his pout only getting deeper and deeper as you win each one.

"This is so unfair, how'd you get so good anyway?" He pouts as he slides a few coins into an air hockey table, and you shrug as you score the first point within the first few seconds. He gapes, and you just laugh as he, once more, loses this game.

The night goes smoothly, both of you scoring your wins and cutting your losses sorely. You both make faces at each other the moment one of you loses, but all is fair in love and arcade games when the night ends in the photo booth, your legs across your boyfriend's lap as he rests his hands on your knees. You fix his hair out of his eyes, the shaggy bangs tickling the bridge of his nose as you coo.

"Okay, how does my hair look? Frizzy?" You run your fingers through it and he shakes his head, watching as you dig your lipstick out of your purse. It's another deep red, and he feels his stomach fill with butterflies as you wipe the corners of your lips. "You look pretty." "You always say that." You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks heat as he smiles, softly flicking your nose. "You always look pretty, baby." You huff, facing the camera and tucking your hair behind your ears before clearing your throat. "Smile first, right? That's what we did last time." "Yeah, that's cool. We can do….the cat thing? For the second one." He holds his fingers in two upside-down Vs over his hair, and you laugh, nodding. "Sure, sure." The camera begins to count down as you press the red button, and you smile as it flashes the two of you. You both scrunch your noses, blinking rapidly as you maneuver your hands to fit in the frame for the fifteen seconds it gives you. "Smile, babe." You say through gritted teeth, and he does just that as the camera flashes again.

"Shit, what now? Uh…" "Kiss me." He whispers, and you nearly snap your neck to face him. "What?!" "Kiss me." His hand moves to cradle your cheek, and you grab his wrist, hearing the camera start counting from ten. "Are you sure? We don't have to–" "I've wanted to kiss you for a year. Kiss. Me." He insists, and your heads both turn as the camera boasts five…four…

"I'm nervous." You admit, and he nods. "Me too. Just trust me, baby." Three…two…

You both breathe in shakily, before softly connecting your lips as the camera flashes brightly. You don't move away as the camera begins its last countdown from fifteen, instead you lean your forehead against his. His eyes peer up at you, and you feel a giggle erupt through you as you press your lips all over his face in chaste kisses. His cheeks grow hot under your lips, and the camera only continues it's countdown as your lipstick stamps all over his rosy cheeks.

"Smile for the camera." He mumbles, pressing his lips to your cheek as the camera reaches two, and smiles bashfully as it flashes one last time. The two of you watch the two strips pop out, and you reach for them. You hand him his, your other hand softly stroking his cheek as you stare at the pictures.

"We're cute." You nod, and he only smiles sheepishly. "Yeah. Was it okay? The kiss, I mean?" "Yeah. And we have it now, forever." You smile as you tuck the photo strip into your purse. He nods, clearing his throat, hoping you don't feel the way his heart skips a beat at the sound of you subconsciously admitting to a forever with him. "So…dinner? On me." "Shit, you have lipstick all over your face." You wince, and he shrugs. "Call it a perk, I guess. You can kiss me again to make up for it." "You're not slick, you know." You roll your eyes as the two of you exit the booth, and you thumb at the lipstick on his nose, only successful in smearing it. "I'm serious, I'm only taking payment in kisses now. So…pay up." "Shut up." You press your lips to his chastely, before shoving your purse over your shoulder as he grabs your hand, making you face him as you tug on your coat. "Seriously, we can stop by a pharmacy and get something to wipe your face." "No, these are my battle scars. I fought relentlessly against my urge to kiss you for a year, I deserve to celebrate this win." He scoffs as he zips up your coat, and you only scoff out a laugh, slipping your fingers in his. "Whatever, loser." And you don't say anything else about it. Not when your waitress stares at him a little too hard as she takes your order, not when your mother gapes at him and you as he drops you off, and certainly not when he kisses you goodnight, a murmur of I'll see you later against your lips before you slip inside your house.

You flop onto your bed after your shower, assuming your boyfriend has long been asleep as you reminisce about the events of the day. Your stomach fills with butterflies as you cover your face with a squeal, reaching for your phone – only to see a notification that your boyfriend posted something on his Instagram.

You open it, seeing a slideshow of photos – one of you in front of the champagne swans at the light show earlier that month, one of the new photo strip hanging alongside the old one in his car, and one of you at the beginning of the entire ordeal. You're sitting at the farmers market, your eyes casted away from the camera as you blushed, likely at something Riki had said. You don't remember him taking that photo, but it doesn't matter as you listen carefully to the song he'd put over it – the melodic sound of Heart by Dawn.

You glance at the caption with a thundering heart, your eyes welling with tears as you read. @/nishimura05: two sides of the same heart, and mine that only beats for you. your patience is beyond me, but i am eternally grateful for the man you make me want to become. thinking of you, always.

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || dark!jonathan crane x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || since you're the only one of his coworkers at arkham who doesn't seem to be intimidated by his intelligence, jonathan decides it's time he finds out what does scare you... and how he can embody it. unfortunately for you, turning into your greatest nightmare doesn't prove very difficult for him.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 5.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || EXTREME AND EXPLICIT NONCON (18+ only and please proceed with caution), drugging and kidnapping, paralysis, traumatized reader, forced orgasms/overstimulation, degradation, humiliation, choking, slapping, unprotected sex/breeding, misogyny, jonathan is very much in character which means he is incredibly evil and has incel vibes (I know y'all are not about to get mad at me for writing a villain being a villain and not uwu babifying him...)

When you interrupted and corrected your colleague, Dr. Crane, about the correct combination of pharmaceuticals for a certain schizophrenic patient in the asylum who happened to have diabetes, you thought nothing of it.  After all, the whole point of staff meetings was to discuss and debate these things, and you weren’t about to let him damn-near poison a patient by giving him something that would interfere with his insulin.  You weren’t trying to be snarky about it, but you did sort of make a joke about how dangerous his suggestion was— and you didn’t notice the way Jonathan’s nostrils flared and jaw tightened when some others chuckled at what you said.

When you received an email from your therapist’s office informing you that there was evidence of a break-in in her building, but that the police were unable to officially determine if confidential client files were compromised, you thought nothing of it.  It was a big complex, these things happen, and you knew from being a clinician yourself how tricky the laws could be surrounding that stuff: she had to email you, legally, if there was any chance your file could’ve been accessed, and that didn’t mean you had any reason to fear your private therapy session notes had been read.  Besides, who would want to read about you and your boring life, diving into your mundane hopes and fears and daily stresses?

And when Crane came into the office with tea for you, you thought nothing of it.  Sure, you seemed surprised when he popped into your office with cups in hand— you asked him why he had two cups of tea, assuming they were both for himself, and he laughed.  Just that was out of character, he wasn’t much of a chucklehead or anything.  “Green tea, right?  With lime and honey?” he asked, setting one cup down for you.  You were still taken aback, but you had to admit defeat.

“Yeah,” you said, taking the cup as he sat down across the desk from you.  “Yeah, that’s my order— I didn’t know you drank tea.”

“Sometimes,” he informed you, hoping his poker face was holding up as he watched you take a sip.  He couldn’t help but stare at your lips wrapping around the little hole in the lid, the print of berry-red your lipstick left behind.  His heart was racing already, more than he expected.

When you finished the first sip, you smiled at him and let out a small, nervous laugh.  “Thank you,” you finally said.  So, yes, even though you clearly noticed this was slightly odd behavior, you thought nothing of drinking the tea.  That was one thing he hated about you: the thoughtlessness.  You didn’t seem to second-guess yourself much, if anything you were a little on the cocky side.  He found it so irritating— that confidence.  Sure, you were smart and you deserved to take yourself somewhat seriously, but the way you walked around this place— the way you ignored him so easily, or spoke over him if you wanted to, or ignored his suggestions when he gave them… you were a bitch, basically.  You clearly thought you were better than him— better than everybody else— for no reason at all.  Just because you were pretty and had a good job you thought you could get away with anything, surely; pretty girls always think that way.

He made casual conversation with you as you sipped the tea, asking questions he already knew the answer to, hoping to catch you in a lie.  For the most part, your stories matched up with what he’d learned from that file.  But, you left out the gory details— you left out the best parts, really.

You mentioned where you went to medical school and that you transferred mid-way through due to ‘stress’, but you didn’t elaborate on what really happened to you.  You mentioned having your own therapist— something you said passionately that every client-facing mental health professional should have— but left out what you were actually being treated for, not to mention the PTSD diagnosis.

He had to hide his smirk behind the paper cup every time you seemed to lose your train of thought— it wasn’t like you, so focused and determined all the time.  No, it was the drugs finally kicking in.  You went for bigger gulps of tea each time your eyes looked heavier, hoping the caffeine would work— but the trace caffeine in your green tea was nothing compared to what he’d added.

You tried to warn him that you were suddenly not feel up to par— that he needed to leave, and you might try to wake yourself up— but he just sat and waited.  He watched you try to get up, and lose your balance.  He watched you stumble, trip, and ultimately fall onto the floor limply.  He watched your eyes flutter shut and the final ounce of energy to fight it fade; he quietly took a final sip of his tea.

~

You woke up on the floor.  You could barely feel it beneath you, but you knew it was the floor— it was cold, and hard.  And you were looking up at the dark ceiling, at the fan spinning at the lowest speed; so you were definitely on the floor.

Jonathan was standing above you, not too far off, flipping through papers.  You couldn’t move— no matter how hard you fought to, you couldn’t.  You barely managed to turn your head, but it felt more like it rolled to the side on its own.  You tried to yell for Dr. Crane’s attention, for help, for him to explain what happened to you, but even your mouth couldn’t move.  The best you could do was breathe harder— actually, you were pretty sure your body was trying to hyperventilate, but you were too incapacitated to even have a proper panic attack.

He heard you, though; he looked away from the papers and grinned down at you.  “Comfortable down there?”

You started to put together a few things.  One, that the last thing you remembered was being in your office, and now you were in your apartment.  Two, that those papers were photoscans of chart notes— obviously you couldn’t make out the words from here, but the format gave away that it must have to do with a patient.

And three, that Crane was neither surprised that you were paralyzed on the floor, nor interested in helping you.

He half-rolled the papers in one hand and playfully hit the other hand’s palm with them.  “These have been quite interesting… revealing, to say the least,” he informed you, like it was a compliment— something you should be proud to hear.  “You’re quite the enigma, Doc!”

He sat down beside you on the floor, leaning on his hand first to find his balance with a little sigh; he seemed amused, actually, and your heart began to race.

As he started to read aloud from the page in front of him, you felt nauseous.  He was reading patient data, describing a client who was receiving individual counseling— or that’s what the CPT code indicated, at least.  As he listed the client’s demographic data— age, race, gender, height, weight— it became eerily obvious what he was doing.  You refused to believe it until he went on: “Client was recommended to Dr. Min Zhang for individual therapy concerning PTSD following sexual trauma.”

Your therapist.  This was a file he’d copied, which belonged to your therapist.  And it was obvious whose file it was.

As you tried with all your might to scream, Jonathan flipped a few pages ahead.

“Session fourteen, eleventh of June,” he continued.  “Client expressed frustration with an increased recurrence of nightmares and flashbacks to her assault.  Up until now, she has struggled to explain what triggers her anxiety without having to actually elaborate on the circumstances of the event.”

He stopped, but you weren’t exactly relieved.  In fact, you were horrified.  He had a little grin on his face when he looked at you, but you could finally see the rage in his eyes.  Suddenly, you realized how long it had been there.  You had sort of picked up on it before, the resentment he had towards you— and it didn’t take a Freudian expert to figure out that he was threatened by you, especially as a man.  He didn’t respond well to feeling upstaged and he clearly had an issue with women.  Maybe not that issue— he was good-looking and well-off, he didn’t need to have any issues with women if he didn’t want to— but an issue nonetheless.  

“Now,” he added, smiling wider than you’d ever seen him smile before, “client states she is ready to describe the incident in full detail.”

He set the papers aside for a second, leaning over you and almost looking… giddy, really.

“I won’t read you the rest, I’ve already pretty much memorized what goes on from there.  It was fascinating— seeing how what happened that night connected to the fears you still have today… the nightmares.  You said that you still feel sick at the smell of alcohol, you still don’t like to wear pinstripe skirts, and even just the wrong few words can make you feel like you’re right back there where it happened— on the floor of your apartment.”

All you could do was look up at him, and you felt your eyes get hot as they welled with tears.

“Not this apartment, obviously— the one by your old school,” Jonathan sighed, “but this will have to do.  And the smell of alcohol, well, I wouldn’t want to let anything cloud my experience— but I dabbed a little gin on my wrists, what do you think?”

He held his hand up by your face, caressing your cheek for a second, and you imagined yourself pulling away— turning your head and shrugging his touch off of you with a grimace.  But nothing happened, of course, and you were entirely helpless as the acidic stench of liquor became apparent.  You couldn’t give your typical outward reaction of a frown, but inside, you felt just the same as always: your stomach twisted, your heart pounded, your head swirled.

“Smell is such a… primal trigger of memory, isn’t it?” he mused, watching your face reverently.  “I can see it in your eyes, it’s affecting you even more than I expected.  You act so fearless at work— but I knew you must have been overcompensating.  God, you’re terrified— I would say you’re paralyzed, but, well… it would be too literal, I think.”

You knew that Crane studied fear and phobias, even trauma occasionally, as a personal interest within the field.  It was normal to have a favorite subtopic, and to conduct related research on it— but obviously, this was far from normal, this was absolutely deranged.  You knew that part of this was vengeance, in his own mind at least, but you didn't feel like you'd done anything actually wrong to him.  And the rest of it, well, it seemed like some twisted experiment, but if you were able to speak you would've tried to remind him that this 'research' wasn't going to get him published or advance his career— but of course, that wasn't what he wanted.  He just wanted to humiliate you.

“I was worried I didn’t have enough to work with, you know,” he added.  “I knew I couldn’t get you to where it happened, if I could even figure it out since you never filed that police report… and the skirt, well, I considered it.  It sounded pretty exciting to dress you up like the night it happened— what I would give to know everything you were wearing that night, but I don’t have a ton to work with.  Obviously, you don’t own any pinstripe skirts anymore, so I would’ve had to buy one… and I wasn’t quite ready for the looks I’d get shopping at Macy’s, so…”

Carefully, he reached up to take off his glasses, folding them and setting them down on your coffee table.

“You know how detail-oriented I am— I mean, I went to all this, didn’t I?” He continued, reaching down and brushing his fingers for a moment over your leg.  It was so instinctive to pull away that it took you a moment to realize you hadn’t… because of course, you couldn’t.  “But it’s impossible to recreate it all perfectly.  Clearly, I don’t need to— if only you could see it, Doc, you look… you look so weak.  Pathetic.”

Since the only thing you could do was look around, you tried to look away— to not give him the satisfaction of seeing the terror in your eyes.  He grabbed your face and turned it until you looked up at him.  

“Did you think you’d be able to face your greatest fear?  Perhaps with a bit more dignity?” he mused.  He looked different without the glasses on; and, ironically, you felt like he could see you even better now.

It was obvious that he enjoyed lording complete power over you, but a quick glance down to his suit trousers made it clear just how much he enjoyed it.  You quickly darted your gaze away, but it was too late; he started to climb on top of you, staring at your face uncomfortably close, and worked on opening his belt and fly.

“Fear rules us all, doesn’t it?  Everything you did, it was guided by your fear that it would— well, why paraphrase?  Let me find exactly how you put it…”

He picked up the papers again quickly, licking his thumb and flipping around until he found the right entry.

“Yes,” he said, “here it is: client states she lives in almost constant fear that it will happen again.”

So that's what this was: his disturbed take on exposure therapy.

As he tossed the copied charts away for the last time and reached up under your skirt, he leaned down and whispered in your ear— and you couldn’t even flinch from the harsh sounds of his words.  “It took you over fifty sessions to admit it,” he recalled, “to tell her the whole truth.  Not just what he did to you… what you did.”

With a small growl, he yanked your panties down your legs and rubbed your thighs with far too much aggression, such that you expected bruises from his hands— just like the ones you’d had before.

“You said he made you do it,” he continued, “you couldn’t help it, right?  But you said nothing’s ever felt like that— that you’d never had such a powerful orgasm.”

You would’ve vomited, except that that, too, requires your muscles to not be paralyzed.  Rolling your skirt up and spreading your legs, he positioned himself right between them, rubbing his cock's leaking head around your hole.

“Your greatest fear isn’t really that it’ll happen again, is it?” Jonathan taunted.  “You’re afraid someone’s going to find out how much you liked it.”

With that, he punched his hips forward and speared you on his cock.

It had been years since you'd had anything inside you, even your own fingers.  You couldn't even remember if being penetrated hurt like this during your assault, and you would've sworn before that you remembered every detail perfectly.  But this was so real, not a memory or a nightmare.  You couldn't cry out from the sting.

"God, it's tight," he groaned, "I bet you weren't this tight when it happened— you'd been whoring around, hadn't you?  Letting all kinds of guys use you… just ran into the wrong one and got your drink spiked.  But now…"

He hissed through his teeth, tightening his grip on your hip.  

"Now it's all mine, isn't it?"

Inside, you were screaming and kicking and pleading for mercy.  You imagined you would be angry and violent, beat him to death with your heel or something, but you wondered if you'd be forced to bargain with him— apologize for whatever you did to upset him, promise you wouldn't tell a soul about this as long as he left you alone.  But either way, it didn't matter… on the outside, you were useless, laying there and letting him use you.

"What made you come so much before?  Did he have a big cock, is that it?” he asked with a snarl.  “Did he know exactly how to touch you?  Or was it just that you’d been craving it, needed it really rough to get off properly?  Is that why you came while he raped you?”

It was a biological response, you told yourself like you had over and over, I couldn't help it, it wasn't my fault, it was a biological response— it wasn't my fault, I didn't like it, it was a biological response.

“I think I know what it is,” he mused, looking down at you with heavy eyes and almost purring as he watched your limp form bounce on the floor.  “I think you wanted to be put in your place.  You act so liberated, so empowered— but you’re a creature of instinct, like anything else.  You need someone to remind you how weak you are, I know, fuck, I know you do…”

He fucked you just a bit faster, grunting and tightening his fist on the floor by your head.

“You haven’t been able to have an orgasm at all, since then,” he stated— almost making it like a question, with the way he said it, but he obviously already knew it was true.  He sounded shockingly sympathetic— not even pitying, not condescending, for once.  “I’m sure for a while you didn’t even try, afraid it would remind you— but that’s the thing, you can’t finish unless you’re reminded.”

You almost surprised yourself when you heard a whine come from your throat; he smiled proudly.

"It's wearing off, I think," he noticed.  "I only gave you a small dose.  Can you move at all?  Can you beg me to stop?"

You opened your mouth to try to say everything you'd wanted to since you awoke, but all that came out was a moan.  You hated yourself for that, and he laughed happily.

"You don't want me to stop," he decided.  "Feels too good?"

I fucking hate you, you wanted to scream, you sick son of a bitch, I fucking hate you—

"You didn't say it outright, but he must have said something to you— during, maybe after," Jonathan theorized.  "You didn't say what it was, but you told your therapist about having a vivid flashback after being accosted by a delusional homeless man on the street.  He called you a bitch, seemingly for no reason… is that what your rapist said to you?  Did he say you were a stuck-up little bitch?"

As burning hot tears striped your temples, you curled your fingers over and over— maybe you could move your arms if you really tried…

"He was fucking right about you.  You think you're so much fucking better than everyone else," he growled.  "You think you're so fucking smart, and special.  But you're no fucking different, you're nothing—"

You whined and reached up, weakly trying to push him off of you, but all you could do was limply grasp at his shoulders.

"Nothing but a stupid—" he grunted the word as he slammed himself into you— "fucking—" he did it again— "bitch."

"No!" you finally heard yourself sob, clutching a weak fistful of his white shirt, but he grabbed your hands and shoved them back down to the floor.

“God,” he choked, holding your wrists tightly until you whined, “it’s so much better when you can fight— fuck, it’s so much better.  Keep struggling if you want, Doc, you’re still too weak for me…”

Your legs moved a little, but they felt heavy.  Sensation was only just beginning to return to them, like pins and needles, and it stung; you winced as you managed to squirm a bit beneath him.

"That's it," he praised, "this is probably just how you did it before.  Too drunk and too desperate for cock to really do much, but trying so hard to look like you hate it— I understand, you don't want anyone to know that you need this.  They'd never look at you the same again: the smart, accomplished psychiatrist who likes getting treated like fuckmeat.  What would they think of you if they knew?"

"No…" you said again, too weak and traumatized to say much else— but it wasn't what he said that made you say no, it was the pulse of pleasure inside your cunt.  He must have felt it, and if he didn't, he surely felt the next; yes, he did, because he smiled down at you excitedly.

"It's happening, isn't it?  You're gonna come."

He held on tight to one of your legs, gripping your thigh and staring uncomfortably into your eyes as he kept going— faster and rougher with each thrust.  You choked on your throat, trying to stop any part of this, but the pleasure was undeniable; it still hurt, yes, and you still felt so angry and sick and numb, but something familiar and desperate was tightening in your gut.  It’d been so long since anyone touched you… you’d forgotten how natural it could feel, even when it was so horrible.

"I read it in your file, but I still couldn't really believe it,” he laughed quietly, “I couldn't believe you came over and over while being raped— but here you are, wow, look at you… you’re so beautiful when you’re scared.”

A long, heavy sigh fell from your lips; your eyes got heavier, and your whole body seemed to relax— in a way totally different from the medication-induced paralysis.

He cooed at you, seeming oddly proud, and you were oddly compliant as he picked you up and pulled you into his lap.

Tears streamed across your cheeks as he held you close, one hand around your back while the other moved your hips against his.  “There you go— come for me, I wanna feel it— another one, baby, for me…”

It wasn’t much longer before another one came— from what you remembered, it was a lot like the first time, this terribly wonderful way your body protected itself from the trauma by immersing you in pleasure.  Of course, Jonathan helped you along by rubbing your clit with his thumb, excited to watch you surrender to ecstasy even when you begged him to just stop and leave you alone.

Of course, your protests were less and less believable as more of your strength and mobility returned— you could’ve tried harder to get away, but instead you found your hips rocking with his, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.  No, you didn’t want this— you never wanted this— but you found the way he spoke to you impossibly comforting even while it was still deeply upsetting.  “Tell me about the nightmares, darling,” he whispered— some impossible mix of pleading and ordering.

“A-almost every night,” you whimpered.  “I… I got used to it, but I used to… I used to wake up and think I was still…”

"They felt so real, hm?" he presumed, and you nodded.  “It’s real now… you don’t have to be afraid of the dreams anymore, it’s all real— I’m right here.”

You couldn’t tell if he was trying to scare or comfort you; he pet your hair, clinging to you tightly, kissing your face and neck along the lines of the tears soaking your skin.  

You felt his grin against your cheek when another wavering moan echoed in your chest, and he laid you back on the floor to hover over you again.  “Was that your third one, already?” he noticed.  “This is so much easier than I thought… you needed this so badly, you poor girl.”

A quick wave of panic settled over you when his hand wrapped around your neck.  “W-wait,” you pleaded instantly, as if you really feared he would just strangle you to death right then and there.  Your hands, still weak and tingly, reached up to his arm, and you felt his cock throb inside you— of course that was what he wanted, to see you react in fear again.  So many other emotions were at play right now, even some you didn’t know existed (like whatever the word would be for longing for the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, or feeling like the only person you can trust is the person hurting you the most), but fear was still going to rule it all as long as he had any say.

"How many times did you come before?" he demanded to know, nostrils flaring as he fucked you harder.  "Tell me how many times you came when he raped you."

"I— I don't—" you stammered.

"Say it," he ordered.

"I— I don't know!" you yelped, whimpers falling to silence as he tightened his grip on your neck. 

"You don't fucking know?" he snarled at you, watching you fight for air.  You clawed at his shirt, his wrist, tried to pry his fingers away, but he just sneered as he stared at your numbing face.  "You don't know how many times you creamed on your rapist's cock?  Bullshit."

"I—" you gasped when he let go of your throat, "I lost count…"

He went from livid to ecstatic in a second, laughing proudly and dipping down to kiss your neck passionately.  "Good girl," he mumbled against your skin, fucking you even faster.  "That's what you need to do for me now— come for me until you lose count."

“I— I can’t,” you choked, grabbing at his shoulders as he seemed to overwhelm you just by pressing his weight down on top of you.  “I’m sorry— you… you proved your point, I— I just need a break—”

Even though the drug he’d injected you with was wearing off, you realized you were just as limp and helpless as before… after all, some of the most powerful chemicals come inside the body.  You didn’t even fight it when he put his hand over your mouth, spitting out a quiet but hateful shut up and continuing with his quick and forceful thrusts into you.  

He kept you conscious and lucid by occasionally hitting or choking you, talking to you, once or twice even ordering you to kiss him.  Like you mean it, he’d said, slapping you as punishment for doing it wrong.  Truth be told, you hadn’t kissed anyone in so long that you’d really been trying your best the first time.  Sometimes he told you to beg him for more— or to beg him to get off of you— and yet he would usually punish you for speaking at all.  He was completely unpredictable, and you figured that was part of the plan: take away any shred of control you might try to get by making it impossible to follow his rules.  Keep you confused and crying, keep you fearful, keep you obedient.

But, he did seem to enjoy when you could only just choke out a broken please.  He laughed at you, pinching your sore clit in response until you sobbed and tried to jerk your hips away.  “‘Please’ what, honey?  You mean, ‘please keep fucking me, Doctor Crane, you’ll make me come again?’” he taunted.  “Something like that?”

“Please… please,” you swallowed around your whines, “please just… finish, and go…”

“Oh,” he purred, “you want me to come?”

You’d specifically not phrased it that way, but, yes, that was what you were asking for.  You weren’t sure what else he wanted from you now, it felt like he’d drained you of everything.

“You can just say that, baby— you wanna make me come?” he grinned, moving in closer for a kiss, but you turned your head away.  He grabbed your jaw again and stared at you with an angry glare.  “This isn’t about me.  This is what you wanted.  This is what you fucking wanted!”

As he screamed in your face, you sobbed and tried to look away again, but he hit you hard on the face and covered your mouth before the cry of agony could come out.  

“This is what you wanted, right?” he insisted again, forcing your head to nod with his clammy, iron-tight grip.  “Uh huh— and you wanna make me come, don’t you?  You understand now that’s all you’re good for.”

As sick as it was, you felt yourself fall into another orgasm when he said that; your eyes rolled back a bit, and for a moment you felt even hotter between your legs.

“I think, if you beg me to come, maybe I will,” he offered— bargaining with you, probably another way to trick you into clamoring for some control only to yank it away.  Unfortunately, you were in no position to turn down a deal.

“Please,” you blurted out the second he released your mouth from under his hand; when you blinked the tears from your eyes, you saw him clearly again and realized how completely different he looked from the arrogant-but-generally-unassuming man you knew from work.  His hair was fallen beside his face, and he was close enough that the ends were tickling your forehead.  His eyes were bloodshot, crazed, and dark.  His lips, always full and plush but usually in a tight frown or neutral look of condescending boredom, were curled around the teeth he bared at you.  He looked animalistic, for a man typically so measured.  Only he could do something so animalistic in a way that required such intellect, foresight, and contemplation— using his superhuman skills to treat you in a subhuman manner.  You realized that you were really seeing him for the first time— the person you’d known before was the mask.  This was something horribly freeing for him; and you were having a much easier time analyzing and thinking about him to distract from how sickly freeing this experience was becoming for you.  “Please, Jonathan—”

“Doctor Crane,” he corrected.  Apparently this wasn’t enough to put you on a first name basis…

“Doctor Crane,” you repeated, “please… come.  I want… I want you to come.”

“Hmm,” he considered, and you worried he’d decide he was unimpressed with your effort and hurt you again— but, he did maybe the only thing worse.  “Okay,” he agreed, “if it’s so important to you.”

Just when you shut your eyes tight and hoped you could just get through this— just hold on for a few more minutes at most and then this would be over and done with— he whispered in your ear that he needed you to keep your eyes open if he was going to finish.  

Though, when you obeyed, he purred at you and let his own eyes flutter shut for just a moment.  For once, he actually seemed affected by all this physically and not just psychosexually.  “I think I’ll come inside, like he did before,” Crane decided with a groan when he opened his eyes, biting his lip for a moment as he stared down at you.  “I didn’t see any birth control in your listed medications on chart… I guess we’ll find out if you have a fear of getting pregnant.”

"Jonathan— don't," you whimpered.  "Please, don't do that—"

"Shh," he soothed, petting the top of your head and laying his weight over you.  "Shh, it's alright.  I think you need to be filled with come… I think that might be the one thing that’ll get you to settle down, now just hold still.”

“I— please… please…” you began to beg again, but your words faded away as another wave of sensation washed over you— they started to blend together, like before, and you realized you were doing what he’d asked: you were losing count.

“Good girl,” he praised under his breath, “like that— fuck, I’m close.  Fuck!”

He held onto you tight— one hand on your thigh and the other on your neck as his thrusts sped to a desperately, impossibly fast pace.  You moaned— or cried, or yelled, or something— as he pushed just a little too deep and your toes curled in your heels.

“Uh huh,” he encouraged, “just one more while I come inside you— I think you can manage that, just one more good squeeze on my cock— oh, fuck, that’s it, yes, just like that…”

You stopped being able to understand what he was saying, but you heard the wavering groan that came a few moments later when his movements suddenly stopped.  He gasped and kept himself as far inside you as possible; you shuddered, blinking fresh tears out of your eyes, and felt paralyzed in an entirely new way as you laid under him, staring up at your ceiling, seeing how far the sun had set since it began— actually, it had started to rain, making it even more impossible to tell how much time had really passed.  Eventually, though, he took his head out from the crook of your neck and propped himself up enough to look down at you.  

Reaching to your coffee table, he fumbled his hand around until he found his glasses, and shakily put them back on.  “Well,” he grinned, still panting but seeming to be mostly back to himself (whoever that was).  “I never thought I’d meet someone who loves fear as much as I do.”

[honeytonedhottie]

honey's guide to winter⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❄️💕

winter is my SEASON. as a december baby and a certified winter princess im qualified to talk about to have the most princessy, sugary winter that you've ever had and were gonna explore just that in this post…💬🎀

WINTER BEAUTY ;

when i think of winter beauty i think of glittery, shimmery eyelids and frosty pink lips. glittery nails, long dolly lashes, and LOTS and lots of ribbons and furry accessories. winter beauty is about looking fabulously flushed from the cold, looking and feeling like a glittery winter fairy ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅💕

lets start off with the makeup. first and foremost wash ur face and prep ur skin cuz it makes ur makeup look 10x better…💬🎀

♡ prime and prep ur skin ♡ put on ur foundation

when putting on foundation it helps to apply the product onto the top of ur hand and apply with a brush for more coverage 💓🍨

♡ next, use some concealer as needed ♡ fill in ur brows

♡ now feel free to prep ur eye lids if u have some redness, but we're gonna go in with an icy eyeshadow. for this look lets do a light blueish grey tone and just put that all over our eyelid

♡ put a darker blue color on the outer corner of ur eyes, and very gently blend outwards towards ur brows as u see in the first photo above. then go in with an angelic light blue on the inner area of ur eyelid (not the inner corner) ♡ use a bit of eyeliner to make ur eyes stand-out

this makeup look is focused highly on the EYES and the lips so feel free to do ur face as u normally would, contouring, blush etc ❄️🍧

♡ go in with some GLITTERY eyeshadow to make ur eyes shine and you can NEVER have enough shimmer ♡ next put on some half lashes because they rly pull this look together and dont forget to apply mascara onto ur lower lashes to make ur eyes look fuller ♡ a little highlight under ur brows for that blingy 2000's look

now lets talk about how to do the PERFECT FROSTY LIP. u wanna start by outlining ur lips with a lip liner that is on the rosier side. nyx has a lot of good ones like that. go in with a baby pinkish or a light pink lipstick (i say both these things cuz you'll know what looks good on u) and finish off with a shimmery lipgloss

furthermore we need a yummy winter scent! invest in some yummy scents like…💬🎀

♡ soft, powdery scents

♡ warm cashmeres and cake scents

♡ the bath and body works snowflakes and cashmere scent specifically is so nostalgic to me

♡ frosty petal and berry scents

we should also be prepared to protect our gorgeous doll skin from the harsh winter weather so make sure that ur doing ur skincare accordingly! look for creamy, hydrating formulas and make sure to cleanse gently in little circles ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ after you've cleansed, use a nice rich serum to keep ur skin plump and hydrated and NOT dry.

another thing, chapped lips are a NO this winter so make sure that ur walking around with ur yummy chapstick to protect ur lips from the cold and keep them pillowy soft…💬🎀

♡ creamy lipglosses

♡ whipped soaps and body butters

WINTER ESSENTIALS ;

during the winter time, use a lotion that is on the thicker side because we should be moisturized all year round but ESPECIALLY in the winter. because its so cold, lean towards lotions that are thicker and creamier. also look out for lotions that have oils, or glycerin/sodium lactate (these are all humectants and they're FANTASTIC for hydrating ur skin).

♡ thick lotions, creams and body butters

♡ a christmas wishlist written in a pink glitter gel pen OR a fluffy pink pen

♡ chapstick and LOTS of shimmery lipgloss

♡ herbal teas and supplements

during the winter time, there we're exposed to reduced sunlight, and seasonal illnesses. and that not hot!! so make sure that ur taking supplements like vitamin D (cuz during the winter time, we tend to spend more time indoors and have less exposure to sunlight, which is crucial for vitamin D synthesis) ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ along with other things like zinc, elderberry, and other probiotics.

DISCLAIMER : its crucial for u to do ur own research when it comes to ur health so make sure that u do that before applying anything that u learn on the internet for ur own safety!…💬🎀

some teas that i recommend in the winter time is ginger tea, peppermint tea and lemon balm tea. i also rly love rosehip tea cuz it is SUCH a treat 💕

♡ hot chocolate with pink marshmallows and whipped cream

♡ a bouncy blowout

♡ big fluffy lashes

WINTER FASHION ;

winter is literally THEE season for over the top accessories like earmuffs and mittens. invest in some super cute fluffy earmuffs and gloves, fluffy boots and puffy coats with fur trimmed that are cinched at the waist to look like an adorable winter doll! mini skirts, tights and leg warmer combo is also very doll for the winter.

this winter we're giving the baby pink and white color scheme, with long silky hair, icy pink lips, victoria's secret pink perfumes and BODY GLITTER…💬🎀

on the winter wardrobe shopping list/checklist we have thick tights and stockings, thick comfy pajamas, a couple or more cute pairs of boots, a winter coat etc.

ribbons

legwarmers

thick tights

thick stockings

comfy pjs

boots

adorable winter coat

fur coat

some more things that are rly winter-esque in fashion are those fur coats. they're SO luxurious and so pretty + they keep u warm so they're an absolute STAPLE when it comes to winter fashion. look for things that are FUZZY cuz they rly radiate those amazing winter vibes.

WINTER MOOD BOARDS ;

PREPPING FOR WINTER ;

♡ buy some new body scrubs. because its so cold and we're usually covering up more during the winter months, its the perfect opportunity to work on and perfect ur body care routine so dont neglect that

♡ buy a nice fuzzy blanket or one of those heated blankets cuz shit gets cold, and we wanna stay as warm and toasty as possible 💕

[00angelyoon]

- ᡣ𐭩 his favourite girl

you were his favourite girl, baking him a cake so pretty and all

starring: Husband Mingyu x curly-haired female reader

synopsis: you had decided to wear his favourite dress of yours a maxi dress that loosely hugged the curve of your waist with flower embroidery that had a cleavage just how he likes it, wearing your pretty curls naturally just how he likes it, he could see your white lacy bra strap with bows (his favourite lingerie set) just how he likes it and you did your makeup just how he likes it.

tags: smut, fluff, female anatomy, reader wears makeup, dresses, female pronouns and just very feminine presenting, oral and penetrative sex (female receiving), pet names (favourite girl, sweet girl, my pretty, honey, good girl, sweet and mingu), slight degradation (my pretty little whore), mentions of food, intentional lowercase.

notes: sorry for my in-activity, i literally had a dream about this, i had to pick which seventeen member i had to do mingyu because like me and him have the same birthday. (but reader and him don’t) also i meant for it to come out on his birthday but i had my own party and celebrations (actually im full of shit i just had a massive motivation drop and a severe case of writers block)

you had heard the turn of mingyu’s key against the apartment lock, you had turned of all the lights in the flat, the only light was the candles on the cake that you baked for your husband. you had made sure to make this birthday perfect, you had made a cake of his favourite flavour vanilla (eventhough he’s anything but that), wrote a really sweet card and had prepared his favourite food and movie in the living room.

“angel i’m home” you were hiding underneath the kitchen island but it still gave you a hidden view of mingyu who was looking around confused seemingly searching for you, he flicked on the corridor light switch, “angel where are you?” you waited until he was walking to your bedroom to stand up still hearing his confused calls for you, “happy birthday to you.” you started to sing, his adorable puppy smile illuminating his handsome face “oh sweet girl, you didn’t have to do this, did you bake this?” you slowly nodded your head, he clapped his hand with his fanged grin “happy birthday dear mingyu, happy birthday to you,” you push the cake closer to his face “come on birthday boy make a wish.” he leaned his neck closer to the cake and blew his 27 shaped candles out and quietly muttered something to himself.

you slowly set the cake on the dinner table and handed mingyu the card you had handwritten for him, he scanned the card with an adoring smile and nothing but love harbouring in his eyes. he placed the card next to the cake and glanced at your excited figure then he pulled you into his arms and looked down at your pretty face then he quickly pecked your soft berry coloured lipstick lathered lips but after the happiness waned he looked down at you and lust started to grow.

he was slowly growing hard, you had decided to wear his favourite dress of yours a maxi dress that loosely hugged the curve of your waist with flower embroidery that had a cleavage just how he likes it, wearing your pretty curls naturally just how he likes it, he could see your white lacy bra strap with bows (his favourite lingerie set) just how he likes it and you did your makeup just how he likes it.

while he was still in his horny daze you had grabbed by his wrist and guided him to the living room and showed him your little buffet he was oddly not devouring the food like he would usually do but he still praised you immensely. you both settled on the couch and started watching the movie.

in the middle of the movie your sweet husband started pecking up your neck and chin, you moaned “m’mingu” meanwhile he softly sucked on your ear-lobe “mm my pretty, couldn’t keep my hands off of you yeah, my favourite girl baking me a cake so pretty and all,” mingyu slipped your dress off and exposed your soft skin, to the cold breeze.

you had let out a sharp gasp as you were getting used to the cold ‘so pretty, my wife’ his mouth wandered to your cleavage kissing up your chest, thats when he undoes your bra clasp, revealing the flesh of your pretty tits, he sucked on your right nipple sloppily while pinching and fondling your left breast, moving back and forth never leaving one unattended.

‘aahh fuck’ mingyu had now begun moving towards your soaking wet sex. he slowly removes your laced panties, leaving you completely bare. ‘my sweet girl, always so good for me’ he praised in-between your plush thighs, you moaned wantonly when his tongue licked up your walls.

“dear fucking god mingyu’ you barley mustered up, arching your back off the sofa. you grabbed onto his hair steering his head towards your clit, “fucking love how you taste” mingyu groaned the vibrations only edging you on.

you looked down to see your husband furrowing his eyebrows seemingly devoted to making you cum, you began whimpering, only for your husband to quicken his pace ravishing you.

you start to feel a knot in your stomach coming undone, before you could warn your lover, you reach your point of ecstasy. mingyu is helping you riding out your high by sucking on your sensitive nub.

your husband moaned as he made a show for you sucking his fingers, then he brought his thumb to your mouth “suck my pretty” you licked up his thumb sucking it clean, “good girl”.

“mingu, need you” you murmured, “need me, im right here sweet” mingyu chuckled “you know what i mean” you complained “no i dont angel, im gonna need you to be more specific” “dear god mingyu, i need you to fuck me” you wanted to slap that cocky smile off his face “see angel that was all you had to say”.

mingyu began lining his fully hard cock to your cunt “you okay sweet” you love how caring and loving your husband is its one of the reasons you fell in love with him but now wasnt the time “minguuu” you lightly slapped his bicep to encourage him, your husband chuckled “ i was just checking in” thats when he began to push into your cunt.

he let out the most guttural moan “fucksake” he threw his head back. eventhough you guys have been married for 2 years now, he still cant believe that he was the one you blessed with the privilege of pleasuring you every single night and to see you in the writhes of pleasure every night still never fails to amaze him.

you began to beg him to move, clenching around him “angel if you keep on clenching around me like that ill finish embarrassingly early” after that mingyu slowly moved out of you and pushed back into you slowly building a rhythm.

you moaned loudly, and mingyu swore he almost cummed. your lover lowered his head to your neck sucking on it creating pretty little marks then he lowered his mouth to your tits creating more marks. “uhh faster faster please” mingyu grabbed your hips then he pushed faster into you, “love you so much, my pretty little whore begging for my cock” mingyu praised “ my pretty little whore” mingyu emphasised while slowly flicking up your sensitive clit, “say it” you furrowed your brows “say your my pretty little whore” mingyu was glaring into your eyes, his eyes hooded with lust and adoration “ im your pretty little whore, only yours” mingyu groaned quickening his pace “ im close minguu” “yeah, im close too sweet” mingyu lowered his head to kiss you and you swore it was like a taste of heaven. you grabbed his shoulder to oush him back onto your chest and moved your hands to his neck, kissing him with a different type of fervour and that familiar feeling in your lower abdomen.

you started to roll your hips while making out with mingyu, who had begun to pull out of your mouth to breathe leaving a sloppy mess. you repeated your lovers name like it was the only thing you knew.

“come for me angel, cream on my cock” and that was the straw that broke the camels back, in a slurry of profanity and ‘mingyus’ your husband filled you up with his babies. mingyu helped the both of you ride out your highs. afterwards mingyu cockwarmed you for a few minutes then mingyu picked you up leaving the sticky mess and brought you to the shower while you both giggled.

—————————————————————————

sorry for the inactivity pookies :)

[katerinasas]

call it what you want 🩰

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

in which mrs snow finds something she must keep. and who his coriolanus to tell her no?

-

the garden behind the presidents mansion was beautiful, no doubt about it. coriolanus snow married his wife back there and he watched her from the window of their bedroom as she worked in it in all her free time and whenever the uv was above a 7.

he insisted he hire a gardener to “protect her pretty hands” but she declined over and over again. it was her outlet. her one “real” hobby that didn’t involve hiding away in the grand library coriolanus built for her.

large green bushes she trimmed so delicately and the stone path she’d managed to put in place her self. orange, red, pink, and yellow flowers everywhere with small blue ones trickled without. coriolanus had put a picnic table in it where they ate on occasion.

the only thing she didn’t like was the fence that guarded it to keep people and cameras out. it wasn’t very pretty, but as first lady secret services insisted, and so did coriolanus. it kept her hard work from public eye and left it only to be seen in photos inside magazines that didn’t do it justice. but the fence seemed to have failed.

kneeled in dirt, her gold necklace with a ‘C’ engraved in it hanging over it, she planted strawberry seeds in hopes they’d actually be good this year. focused on what she was doing, trying to avoid a repeat of last years berries, her focus dropped as she heard a weak meow. she turned around, only to hear it again. she stood, wiping her dirty hands on her pants, walking along the path in hopes of finding the source when suddenly she saw her.

a small kitten. she was light brown with dark spots, almost like a cheetah. mrs snow had not a clue how the animal had gotten in, but it must’ve been fate, she thought. “hi,” she whispered, kneeling down and gently reaching forward. the kitten meowed and she took that as her way of saying “yes, you can pick me up.”

she held the kitten all day long, leaving her in her lap when she read and holding her in one arm as she helped one of the snow’s maids, clarissa, with a task. she was already in love with the small animal as she waited for her husband to get home, ready to beg and plead to keep it.

“hmm,” she hummed gently to the kitten. she sat in her lap at the piano, mrs snow’s fingers gently playing soft chords as she stared down at her. “what about… lorelei?” the kitten stood and did a little spin bringing a laugh out of her. “you like that?”

“like what?” coriolanus echoed from the foyer, dropping his keys on the table. “i didn’t know you were having company, darli-”

“suprise,” she said with a smile, standing from the bench, holding the kitten to her chest. “i found her in the garden. i don’t know how she got in but,” she frowned, running a finger down her nose. “it rained last night, it must’ve been awful.”

coriolanus stood over her, a firm hand on her shoulder. “well, you must know we can’t keep it,” he said as if it was obvious. his hand brushed over his wife’s head, refusing to acknowledge the cat because he was sure if he did he’d give in.

“no i don’t. why can’t we?” she moved out from his touch, holding the kitten up to his eyes. “please, coryo?”

“no,” he swallowed, doing his best not to give into her temptation. they couldn’t have a cat. it didn’t seem… scary to him. not presidential, not like the pet of a man who led a country and 12 districts.

but his wife was persistent. she frowned up at him, holding the cat to her chest as she purred. “coryo,” she whined. “look at her. she’s just a baby. her mom was out of sight, i looked, and she already likes me. she even picked out her name.”

“i said-”

“please?” she gave him her best puppy eyes, her free hand on his chest.

coriolanus bit the inside of his cheek before sighing. “i guess.” he stumbled back as his wife pulled him into a side hug, kissing his cheek over and over again. red lipstick prints covered his face as she offered him the cat which he took with a small smirk. “what name did she pick?”

“lorelei,” she smiled.

“hm,” he nodded, holding the creature awkwardly. “i like it.” after a few moments he looked up. “you’re impossible to say no to, you know that?”

his wife only smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “you love me.”

“you’re a master manipulator and i’m an easy target or i love you, call it what you want.”

“i’ll call it you love me,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him softly.

“then i guess i’ll call it that, too,” he said, his arm holding her close to him as the pair smiled at the new member of their family.

saw this kitty on pinterest and knew what i had to do.

I LOVE CATS!!!!!!!!!

#cantspellcatswithoutTS

[hotluncheddie]

Honey Boy

wc: 1.3k | rated: M | tags: 1920s au, food as a love language, not cis flapper Eddie Munson 

˚⊹♡

Steve Harrington used to be the most eligible bachelor in all of New York City. Destined to take over his father’s nicotine empire, and make the family even richer. That was, until Steve Harrington got caught in an apartment fire. Clocked in the head by a steel beam while helping a young boy out. 

Steve Harrington can’t take over the business anymore, because sometimes his head hurts so bad he can’t seen. Sometimes it hurts so bad his legs don’t work. 

Now Steve Harrington is married to one Robin Buckley, socialite who writes poetry published under a mans name, and who comes from a good family. A solid flock; enough to get Harrington Sr to stop sniffing around proposals that might’ve made Steven useful to him again. 

But, you only had to enter their apartment once to see that their bedrooms were distinctly separate. Only had to watch them together in public for a moment to see their touching never went past friendly. 

No, now Steve Harrington lives on an allowance, goes to dinners once a month to show his face; coming back from them quieter, fog always lasting a few days. Doing so in order to, amongst other things, frequent a speakeasy on Saturday nights; hidden under a barbers shop in Harlem. 

And, now, this Steve Harrington, also, bakes. Pastries, cakes and desserts from across the pond. Anything, everything, the finest you can think of. 

And Eddie Munson, you see, knows all this about Steve Harrington. Knows all about this Steve Harrington, because, every weekend, Steve goes to the club, under the barber shop in Harlem, to take home one, particular, very special, girl. 

Him. 

‘No, slowly.’ Steve murmurs, holding the bite of pie just out of reach of Eddie’s lips. ‘Open.’ 

Eddie does. 

‘Hold it baby. Taste it, let it melt.’ He whispers, patting the corners of Eddie’s mouth with a napkin. Watching Eddie swallow, eyelashes fluttering, half for Steve’s sake and half because it just tastes so damn good. 

‘Don’t mess up my lipstick, s’not easy getting this dolled up.’ Eddie mumbles as Steve scoops up another mouthful, the fine porcelain and small fork held so gently in this large hands. 

Steve smiles, pausing, laying down the cutlery to cradle Eddie’s cheek in his palm and run a thumb under his kohl lined eye. ‘Never, you’re berries baby.’ He says, flashing his teeth. Lifting that fork again to feed him another slow bite. 

And this is all Steve asks for, really. The only time during the night where Steve requests Eddie does as he says. Otherwise, Eddie can do as he likes, orders Steve around hand and foot if he pleased, fuck him, not fuck him, get fucked, get blown. But not this part, this in between part. After a couple hours at the joint, with the good hooch, and a little dancing; Steve will eventually pull Eddie away. Away from the guys who want to get their hands up his beaded dress, who pull him in extra close for the slow dance, buy him a drink, light his cigarette unprompted. But everyone now knows that Saturdays are Steve’s night, Eddie might twirl and drink and bat his eyelashes at any sap he pleases; but he always walks out hand in hand with Harrington Jr. 

Following him back to Steve’s now familiar apartment, where Eddie can kick off his heels and lounge back on the velvet sofa. Where Steve will have baked something special in preparation, requesting to feed Eddie every bite slowly, so slowly. Until every morsel is gone. 

And Eddie lets him, is paid for it, handsomely. But they both know that, now, it’s got nothing to do with the money, not really. Eddie could go home with any number of rich clients on a Saturday night, multiple, and has done. But he doesn’t, not now. 

No, now, it’s only Steve. Every Saturday, like clockwork. 

No, it’s not all about the money, not for Eddie. And it maybe wasn’t ever, really, for Steve. 

The first time Eddie went home with him Steve had flushed, fluttered, almost too scared to touch him. Offering up chocolate covered strawberries and biting his lip raw when the juice dripped down Eddie’s chin. Then ate Eddie out until spit dripped down his thighs. 

Now his Steve has less reservation. Always seeking skin, seeking touch, begging to be able to give. 

And Eddie feasts on it. 

Starving. 

Once the desert is tucked away, fed, devoured, consumed. Poured, dripping ambrosia into his very centre. All of him now a little more padded thanks to Steve’s steady devotion; ribs not so visible, hips no longer concave and thighs that are just starting to brush together under dresses and between nylon. Once that’s done, now, Steve kneels, happy and satiated, content with having completed his only desire for the night. 

The rest, now, is up to Eddie. 

And Eddie wants to smoke, and pet Steve’s cheek where it rests between his legs, on his inner thigh. 

He blows smoke at Steve’s face, watches him inhale, eyelashes fluttering. 

He’s a funny man, this Steve of his. Eddie thinks he’s the bees knees, sweet as honey, pretty as cherry pie. 

‘Kids at the club talk about something called transcendence honey boy. You know anything about that?’ Eddie asks, scratching Steve’s scalp with long, painted nails.  

‘No.’ Steve says, eyes closed, leaning into the touch. 

‘Somethin’ about reaching a higher power, becoming more just through talkin’ and thinkin’ and bein’.’ 

‘Oh yeah?’ Steve says, listening, but the hand stroking slowly higher up Eddie’s calf says his mind is split in half. 

‘Mmhm, I think you might just be doing it, only with you it’s through eatin’.’ Eddie smirks, spreading his legs a little more. 

Steve looks up, glassy eyes getting clearer, he looks; affronted, confused, aroused. ‘I jus’ like seeing you looked after, seeing you warm and relaxed. Like seeing the way your eyes droop when you taste something good, the way you sit different in the chair, the way your legs shift and your cheeks blush. I just think food looks good on you baby.’ And Steve’s fingers slide up Eddie’s thigh, under the beaded silk of his dress, over the plush that sits over muscle. The weight, the width, the softness that’s been gained - gained by the offerings of Steve’s own hands. 

Eddie gasps softly as those hands squeeze his thighs, warm and pliant and greedy. 

‘Do you like that thought, doll? What did you call it?’ 

‘Transcendence.’ 

‘Yeah, you like it? Does it make you feel good sugar?’ He asks, eager. Always so eager. 

Eddie thinks maybe it does, thinks that maybe the way Steve does most things might just be the best feeling in the world. 

‘Take me to bed honey boy.’ 

Steve smiles, boyish and blinding and lifts Eddie up bridal style, making him cackle. Wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and biting at his earlobe, sticking a hand down his half unbuttoned dress shirt to grope at the hair and muscle. 

Never fails to make Eddie feel like a real dame this one. 

Which is still not always an easy task, even with how Eddie chooses to present himself, how he loves. What he does and how he does it. Still not easy. But when Steve lays Eddie’s down, removing clothes between bites and throaty giggles. Kissing and kissing. And kissing as he does. Eddie’s knees part easily and his fingers grip tousled brown hair and Steve opens him up, slick and wanting and hungry. 

And when Eddie is filled, enveloped in Steve’s warmth, the oven of his chest, baking Eddie alive. Eddie feels it again, maybe, that higher place. 

‘You’re my girl, you’re my girl.’ Steve will pant, hot and wet in Eddie’s ear. Chant it until it drips like honey through his bones. Taking Eddie there, ascending. Toes curled, moan breathy and needy and high, filled up something special, a girl who is. 

That’s when Eddie feels it, for the second time that night; divine, feminine, transcended. 

Loved. 

˚⊹♡

Taglist (& people who showed interest <3) : @pearynice @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor

@marvel-ous-m @whimsicalwadewinstonwilson @postmodernau @steddie-island

[rooksspite]

Marks of Love

Davrin x f!Rook (unnamed)

summary: after a night of too many drinks, Davrin finds Assan covered in kisses.

yes this is based off of that one meme of that girl who came home drunk and was really excited to see her cat

Davrin wakes one day with a headache and little recollection as to how he ended up in bed.

He remembers Lucanis inviting him and Rook to talk about old jobs again over a shared bottle. or 3. Honestly it could’ve been more he just couldn’t remember. After that it’s all a blur. He’s surprised he made it to bed in the first place.

With a groan he stands from his bed, wincing as he faces the open brightness of the fade. Moving sluggishly to throw on a shirt and pants before yawning and making his way to open the door of his room.

“Assan,” he calls out to the griffin sitting his usual spot. The wooden stairs creaking under his steps.

When Assan turns his head to look at him, it makes Davrin pause midstep, “what in the…”

There were specks of red dotted across Assan’s face, two on his beak, a couple on the sides of his face, even more across his forehead and the top of his head.

Davrin steps closer to get a closer look at the griffin’s face, “what happened to you buddy?” he asks softly, still struggling to fight off the last remnants of sleep. He had a number of ideas of what the marks could be, maybe the griffin snuck into the pantry to snack on berries again, or maybe he got into Emmrich’s inks.

Assan squawks as Davrin squats down to take his face in his hands, his eyes widening in realization. The spots were a very similar shade of berry red, in the shape of lips he’s grown to know all too well.

Davrin huffs out a laugh and hangs his head, “someone got some love last night.” Davrin muses, Assan only replies with a happy noise and a flap of his wings.

“Davrin,” he hears a familiar voice call. He looks up and sure enough there she is, just leaving the light house and making her way towards him. wearing the exact same shade on her lips that decorated Assan’s feathers.

“Rook,” Davrin greets, letting go of Assan’s face and standing “seems you got a bit excited to see Assan last night.”

To be fair, Rook always got excited seeing Assan, always showering him in hugs and pets whenever she walked by him. Though it seemed that alcohol released her from whatever she was holding back when it came to giving Assan affection.

“What do you- oh…” Rook pauses when she takes in the sight of Assan littered in kisses, her eyes move up to look at Davrin and he raises an eyebrow when he sees an obvious flustered look take over her features.

“Something wrong?” Davrin asks

Rook goes to speak but is cut off when the both of them hear the familiar clank of Neve’s prosthetic hitting the stone ground, “well good morning you three, have fun gossiping over your alcohol?”

Before either of them can answer, Neve takes in the scene before her and an amused smile crosses her face, “my my, just what were you two up to last night?”

Rook looks away flustered and Davrin’s confusion only grows, “what are you talking about?”

Neve smiles innocently, “nothing, I just think it’s adorable how similar you and Assan can look sometimes.”

Neve begins walking away towards the kitchen and Davrin can only furrow his eyebrows at her comment, “similar?” he turns to look down at assan again, “what are you even…” he trails off, his eyes landing on the splotches of lipstick sticking to Assan’s feathers as a look of realization crosses his face.

Suddenly he remembers drunken giggles as him and Rook leave the dining room, a cooed, “Assan!” followed by a shocked squawk and exaggerated kissing sounds.

He remembers leading Rook to her room, her turning towards him and reaching for his face, the sight of her lips moving towards him.

Slowly, Davrin reaches a hand up to his cheek, swiping at it before moving his hand back into view.

Sure enough, his fingertips were smudged with the very same berry red that covered both Assan and Rook’s lips.

“Looks like someone was also excited to see me last night.” Davrin hums with a hint of amusement.

Rook lets out a flustered laugh, her gaze still on the ground, “is it bad that I don’t even remember?”

Davrin chuckles and shakes his head, taking a step closer to room before placing a finger under her chin to make her meet his gaze. Rook lets out a surprised noise as Davrin leans down to press a kiss to her lips.

Just as quickly he pulls away, a new coat of her red lipstick smudged against his lips, “I think you ought to help us clean us you mess hmm?”

Assan squawks loudly from beside the two and Rook laughs, leaning her head against Davrin’s shoulder, “I suppose it’s only fair.”

[writingoddess1125]

So I saw this fanart and got this idea! And after a gin and juice I wrote this. Enjoy!

Art does not belong to me! It says the artist is Flamingo_PinkArt on Twitter (If incorrect please tell me ;-;)

My Heart Breaks Pt. 1

Warning: Angst and some Fluff

Buggy X FemReader

Buy me a Ko-Fi? ☕️

Part 2

"(Y/N) Why the hell are we here?" You heard Buggy groan next to you annoyed, Shanks nodding in agreement. You rolled your eyes at their protest of being in the circus tent with you.

"Cause I am the one who got us the tickets, 20000 berries and I want to see the circus" You chimed proudly as you watched your favorite act come out. The clowns, Buggy grimacing at the sight of them, You see this and lean against his shoulder.

"Aww is Buggy afraid of clowns?~" You chime earning a glare from him and a blush. Shanks Grinning at this as he poked his friend in a teasing manor.

"No I'm not afraid of damn clowns! They are just... kinda creepy" He grumbled as he watched the group of bubbly cheerful clowns.

It had been a year since Gol. D Roger's had died, it had been hard on all three of you. But you luckily had each other and were trying to save up scraps of berries to start your guys own crew. You were the thief of the trio, a skilled person in breaking and entering as well as treasure hunting. Buggy was an amazing navigator and sailor while Shanks was the amazing fighter and leader of your trio of teenage Pirates.

You giggle at Buggy face of disgust at the clowns, you knew the real reason he hated them- It was the noses. He was self conscious about it heavily and seeing the clowns with the fake noses made him feel like they were making fun of him. You gently rub his shoulder gently, a silent gesture to comfort him.

Once out of the show you sighed in delight at feeling the sun on your face. Hearing both teens walking behind you and bickering between the two of them.

"Let's get some food for our journey to Hile Hile Village" You suggest, walking to the small market next to the curious. The three of you had been using this little village by Hile Hile Island as a sort of base. The three of you were planning a big heist in order to get a massive score of 750,000 berries which could help getting a bigger boat and not the stolen two decer you guys currently shared. The only issue was that the village was controlled by a dictator like man, A Lieutenant for the Marines that ruled the island. He had made it his mission to murder every pirate who tried to come to the island, so this would be a very quick smash and grab. Fleeing the island immediately afterwards.

It was simple, mildly foolish but hopefully effective.

Once in the market Buggy got toiletries, Shanks got food and you got basic supplies. The three of you walking together till you saw a beauty stand and seeing a deep red lipstick sticking out.

"Ohh I love this color" You hummed in pride at the red lipstick color, both teenage boys groaning as you took your sweet old time in choosing the brightest of red.

"I see you like the color red?" Shanks teased you, earning a sarcastic laugh from you.

"Oh yes, The color red really gets me going" You laugh as you pick the color and grab a near by red and white bandana, wrapping it around your head like a fake bonnet.

"Besides I hear red is a sigh of submission, what does that say about you Shanks?~" His face fell at your words and Buggy snorted a laugh.

You tossed down some berries for the bandana and lipstick. Following the boys back to the boat while you all chatted and teases each other, however Buggy's eyes landing on you every now and then more specifically your red lips. Everyone knew he had a crush on you, hell you had a thing for him too but it seemed he judt refused to make a move! Even when you all were on Roger's ship he never made a move on you.

"Buggy it's your turn to make dinner!" Shanks chimed out earning a groan from Buggy. After dinner you made it to the top of the deck to get some fresh air. Feeling the wind on your face as Buggy sailed you all to Hile Hile Island.

"Hey, You holding up okay?" You called out as you went to Buggy's side. The blue haired teen not meeting your eyes.

"I'm fine.." He grumbled, he knew he was pouting about something. Sighing as you look up at the night sky.

"What are you pouting about Bugs? Hm?" You pressed once more, Hearing a sigh from him.

"You um.. seem to like red right? Listen I assume you like Shanks and all. I mean ago doesnt- but um"

You look at Buggy as he leaned against the wheel of the stolen boat, not meeting your gaze.

"You two would be good together..." He grumbles, you roll your eyes and step towards him grabbing his arm hard you yank him from his pouting position and slammed your lips onto his. His eyes wide as you kiss him and leaned into the kiss, his eyes drooping as he felt warmth from you and wrapped a arm around you in return. After a moment you pulled away and grinned up at his cherry red face and eyes that were in a daze.

"I hope that answers the question of who I like Buggy" You teased, drawing a silent nod from him. Smiling you step back from his grasp and give his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Good night Bugs" You call out before heading down to the Lower Deck of the boat to sleep leaving Buggy standing there still shocked- His face breaking out in a wide grin as he silently cheered and jumped excitedly. You giggling at shearing his footsteps as he jumped up and down in excitement.

The next morning when the three of you arrived at Hile Hile Island and at dawn started your heist of robbing a jewelry store. It went smoothly enough, not too hard till the surprise alarms went off and the three of you ran.

Running through the streets you held the bag of values in your hand, the boys having a good lead on you as they slipped through the crowds and laughed. It was such a adrenaline rush! The boys ran ahead of you turning a sharp corner and heading down, as you prepared to catch up to them a muscular forearm suddenly slam put hitting you.

The wind getting knocked out of your lungs as you felt the forearm smash into your chest, your head smacking into the cobblestone ground as you looked up. The infamous Lieutenant staring down at you with a sickening grin- your eyes widened as you realized.. you were fucked.

"We are gonna be rich! Haha! That ship is ours! Right (Y/N!?)" Buggy yelled out, Hearing Shanks cheer ahead of him. Not hearing your voice he started to slow down lookknv behind him seeing you were gone and his eyes widened, Shanks still on his adrenaline high stopped as well and turned to look to see the confused Buggy.

"Where is (Y/N)?" Buggy questioned, Shanks face falling as he realized this. The two boys meeting each other's gaze and began to rush through were they had run to try and find you, calling out your name. The boys running back to try and find you, as they made it to a backstreet they see you in the back of a Marine jail wagon being dragged away to the local prison. Buggy surged forward in wanting to Spring you free but Shanks grabbed his shoulder quickly.

To say this had turned into a total shit show for you. You had been tossed in the back of the Marine jail wagon, then brought to the local prison.

There you were thrown into a cell with a women who had even in hysterics. Begging for death for her actions instead of the life sentence she was given. Your mind was racing as you tried to think of ways to get out- watching as the Lieutenant walked to you with a smile.

"It's been a while since we had a Pirate here, it's good. We needed an execution tomorrow" He said with a evil smile at you. The color draining from your face at his words.

"What!? Not a trial! Or even a proper investigation!?" You screamed as you grab at the bars. The Marine laughed loudly in your face as he leaned down to your level.

"Little girl, I'm the judge, jury and executioner. Welcome to Hile Hile!" He chimed loudly before dismissing himself with a deep laugh leaving you alone with the sobbing women.

You sat there for a while, trying to figure out what to do. Having even spoken to the women who told you she had accidently fell asleep and her child drowned and was imprisoned for murder. Now sentenced to life in prison at Impel Down, even though she wanted to die for her actions. A completely over sentencing for a horrible accident but you figured that was just how this place was run.

Going up the the barred wi dows of your cell you look out over the village. Fear running through your system as the words the man said to you rang through your system. It wasn't till you saw your two friends running in the alley by your cell did it snap you from your thoughts. Clapping your hands quickly to catch your attention you saw both of them turn to you.

"(Y/N)!" Buggy called out, looking around wildly before detaching his torso and floating up to meet you grabbing at the bars to try and pull on them. You quickly shoo him to go back down.

"No, They will see you" You hissed at him and held his hand, He floated back down but kept his detached hand with you. A sinking feeling hitting your stomach as you smiled at the two boys who rambled out in panic talking about how they would break you out. Shanks was the first one to notice your silence and the sadness in your eyes.

"Guys.. I.. I love you two-" You said to them, both freezing at your words as dread fills their system.

"Hey don't be so glum! We will get you out okay?!"

You gave Buggy's hand a squeeze sniffling back tears as you kissed the back of his hand staining it with your lipstick and taking the bandana you had bought before from around your neck and tied it to his wrist.

"I promise it will be okay Buggy.. Ill be okay" You say in a shaky voice, trying to keep him calm. Releasing his hand which floated back to his wrist.

"I'll get you out of here (Y/N)! They won't hurt you I swear!" Buggy proclaimed, his mind racing with ideas to break you out. Rushing down the alleyway in order to begin plotting.

You looked at Shanks through the bars and gave him a watery smile, tears welling in your eyes.

"Shanks... Promise me- If I go... Buggy can't see it.. He should never see me that way okay? Dont try and break me out.. you guys can get killed" You begged, tears rolling down your cheeks as you saw Shanks own eyes well with tears and nod his head.

"I-I promise (Y/N)..." He stuttered out, looking ahead and running after Buggy finally. Knowing the task that laid before him-

The next day was the day of the public execution. Wanting to make a an example out of you as they prepare for you to be killed. The Lieutenant coming by the cell you shared with the woman, who was still in her mess of a state at being imprisoned for life.

"Ah a Pirate and a Murderer" He chuckled darkly at the two of you. You glaring back at him as he leered at you-

"Does it make you feel strong to kill a child?" You asked him, earning a glare from the male who slammed his hand against the bars.

"Your show time is in half an hour- pray" He hissed at you and tossed a prison uniform and cloth bag at your feet. You knew what this was for by the red that spotted the collars on both-

Buggy had been frantically gathering a plan for his rescue mission, Ignoring the oddly silent Shanks who had just been watching him. Buggy creating a flashy and dramatic escape plan to rescue (Y/N).

"Alright It's almost ready!" He said as he grabbed rope, knives and more. Shanks looking at Buggy and sighing.

"Buggy- We can't get her-" He started but Buggy glared hard at him.

"Yes we can- if we follow this plan I can get her!" Buggy screamed, Shanks clenching his fist as he glared at his friend.

"Buggy I'm not going to let you get yourself killed" He said evenly, a silent standoff starting before Buggy shot a punch using his devil fruit which landed right on Shanks cheek knocking the red head stumble back for just a moment before Buggy bolted, running off the boat and into the rain. Buggy hearing the sound of the crowd gathering at the main city court yard, Bolting towards the direction.

Shanks chased Buggy, sliding through the rain as he saw Buggy run like his life depended on it. Buggy turned a hard corner and slipped hard, his body slamming into an alleyway wall.

Shanks grabbed Buggy and held him against the wall with all his force keeping his limbs pinned, tears running down his own cheeks as he make sure Buggy didn't move from his spot. He knew Buggy couldn't use his Devil fruit abilities as well and his limbs couldn't get far enough to reach you or strong enough to push or kick him off.

"THEY ARE GOING TO KILL HER! WE CAN HELP HER!" Buggy screamed at Shanks as the red head held his friend down-

"Buggy they will kill you!... I-I promised... I-Im sorry" He croaked out- The sound of the crowd in the courtyard got louder and Buggy moved harshly.

'We are here to show that while Gol. D Roger's influence still stands! We will be the strong hand that brings it back!'

The echoing voice sounded through the city, Buggy screaming as he tried his hardest to fight against Shanks.

'A Thief and Pirate. This is the price to pay for crimes here in Hile Hile Town! Is Death!"

The crowd cheering before there was a click before it happened- Buggy's eyes went wide as he heard the massive sound of the guillotine slamming down. The fight leaving his body as he saw the birds fly up from were the courtyard was the sound scaring them from their refuge in the rain, and the sound of cheers from the courtyard from the public execution.

He didn't even feel the cold from the rain anymore, instead feeling the emotions he had turn into ice in his chest. Like his heart had been ripped from his very being and tossed into the deepest part of the sea.

Shanks still sobbing himself pulled away from Buggy knowing it had been done. His own body shivering from the cold as he wept looking at his brothers face, Buggy's eyes looking dull like that of a fishes.

"B-Buggy I'm sorry" Shanks managed to sob to his friend, Like a puppet Buggy moved to his feet barely able to stand as he felt his body was hollow and boots too heavy. His hair sticking to his skin as he felt the rain wash away his love for Shanks and you.

"..I will never forgive this betrayal Shanks... Just like (Y/N) you are dead to me..." Buggy croaked out his voice the softest it had ever sounded, not even meeting Shanks eyes as he turned and started to walk off to towards the courtyard.

Shanks standing there in the rain not saying a word as he let Buggy go, still crying himself. The blue haired teen walking to the courtyard were the crowd was filing out, having gotten their fill of bloodshed. Buggy walked to the empty courtyard and looked up seeing the Marines cleaning the mess, the rain helping to wash the blood from the blade used and the stage it rested on. One of the Marines loading a headless female body into a basket, wearing basic black and white stripped prison attire

Buggy fell to his knees, his eyes locked onto the blade that had taken you from his life- he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the red and white bandana you had given him, while wet from rain he put it to his head and tied it around his blue hair.

He would remember you... he would cherish the memory. His best friend, his first love... a girl who always smiled wearing too red of lipstick and loved the circus...

He would be the greatest at it all.... Just for you.

[azure-cherie]

🔸Positive things people say behind your back 🔸

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

Hello , i hope you are doing well, this is a general reading so take what resonates and leave the rest , thank you so much for letting me read your energy, engaging, commenting, reblogs and feedbacks are very appreciated and help me to get better in what i do and also help me in picking your energy better . I'd be grateful for it <3

Pile 1 :

People think you're very grateful and kind , that you have a vibe that is very hard to find , they admire how genuine you are and how when you're angry you let it out and when you're sad you let it out you don't keep it within yourself you rather accept the emotions, you don't run or supress the negative emotions but treat them like your friend . They say that you are someone who is actively healing their shadow side and they are so happy with your progress. They also consider you are a conformist and someone who is sophisticated and we'll behaved at most times . That you are genuine and have no two faced actions. They love the mole on your face and say that you can try to be a model because of your long legs. Your face glows and radiates the elegance that can win hearts and it's such a win . They would love to be friends with you they are tired of hating you.

Chanelled words & placements:

Porsche , blue berry, down to earth , new in town , old city girl , merkantilism , copper, susan, lord have mercy , Virgo 6th H , rahu 12th , Venus - mercury, asteroid hekate prominence, asteroid Vishnu prominence, chitra Nakshatra , Bharani nakshatra.

Pile 2 :

Very first thing i get is they love the way you cook , maybe you upload pictures and damn these people wanna have some. Hey call me over as well ;) , they say you're very talented and can make so many things . You don't realise right that how powerful your creativity is it brings deep realisations to people like it reminds me of a surrealist whose channelled art brought so many realisations to the people . You are a dream girl you have a very different kind of vibe , you have this sense of freshness to you that's so lovely . You're someone who can guide others and give them real advice and that's honestly so admirable, they say that they admire your choices like they really follow what you wear for example you bought some boots and then the others start buying that too you make things worth using . You're really a star

Chanelled words and placements:

You're so fine , doja cat , euphoria , gentle , tailor , mocktail , enigmatic, prophetic, lavish , mutuals , Osiris , cancer , 6th H , gemini , asteroid Persephone/proserpine prominence, Uttara Phalguni Nakshatra, moon dominance.

Pile 3 :

What people admire about you is your presence how you can light a room up and how brave you are , you can take up any responsibility and ace it. You always wanna be perfect you're a 10 and that makes you so likable , they like your lips and the lipstick you use . Your dad might be influential, you give the vibes of young money . They say how pretty you look in light colours, they love your money management skills , you're light hearted and don't take things seriously they really like that as well about you . They say that you smell good and are very keen with cleanliness which is really good . You're so fun when your walls are shed and your guard is down , they see how beyond the guard you're a very fun person. They want to take trips with you . They like how generous you are with money . Tip : don't be too selfless hold your ground .

Chanelled words and placements:

orange , marchantia, Ophelia , dancing queen , mid - day meals , cookies , medium , mindful , mediator , tip toes , fine grip, dark feminine , Saggitarius, 3H , 2H , 7H , Virgo , Aquarius , revati nakshatra.

Pile 4 :

You actually have so fine grip on people's minds , your words stay with them for a long long time , they really admire your intelligence so much, they feel like they can ask you anything and you will have an answer to it , you're like so cool , so intelligent, conversations with you never feel boring or stagnant. They admire your way of motivating people, they really love your car and your skin. Your skin is so beautiful and supple , i think you could be in the astro or tarot community as well people really admire your knowledge. Your mom wants to say she's proud and she's sorry for behaving to harsh , and your flowers that you grow in the garden feel so nurtured by you . You are divinely blessed.

Chanelled words and placements:

Dior, mirror , coquette, cute , rabbit , dancing in the dark , beauty and the best , marinate , lashes , belly dancing, Taurus , 11th H , 9th H , asteroid siren prominence, asteroid kleopatra prominence, mercury dominance Jupiter dominance.

[kampashanate]

The ideal red lip is the culmination of the right products, application methods, and just a dash of self-assurance. If you are getting ready for a party or a function, there are some tips for achieving the perfect look with ravishing red lipstick.

[radio-fmm]

Takes two to tango

Law x fem!reader

Warnings: SFW very feminine reader all dressed up using fem adjectives and such

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: In which Law meets you at a gala

Masterlist

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Fuck

Is all The Captain of the Heart Pirates can think of when he spots you form the other side of the gathering

Law had planned this strike for weeks. You were a really infamous informant amongst the pirates of the grand line, and he needed information that by no doubt you possessed. When he heard about your probable attendance to this stupid gala he knew this was his last chance for him to get closer to you and maybe, you’ll be benevolent enough to gift him the precious information he needed so desperately

But it wasn’t part of the plan for you to be so damn beautiful

As handsome and determined as he felt, The Surgeon of Death now finds himself a nervous wreck, butterflies going wild in his stomach and a tremble in his movements, his face coloring red and warmth irradiating from his cheeks. You had an enchanting aura that had him itching to be anywhere near you, get closer to admire your sparkling eyes adorned by a dark liner making your gaze sharp, your soft hair sitting in the frame of your face alike a porcelain doll; he’d pay any berry to hear your laugh, he bets its just delightful, mixing with the warm low lights of the place and your confident presence alongside the crowd that had long faded when he saw you. The dress hugged your figure in all the perfect ways, matching with your dark lipstick on your plump lips that made you look like an empress of the sea, you looked otherworldly, a dazzling starlet, absolutely stunning

He was running out of words to describe you as he admired you from afar

Law curses once again, his confidence leaving his body as he finds the will to just go and speak to you without stuttering or combusting

Suddenly you are on the move, walking towards the champagne table that was conveniently situated just besides Law’s. Before he stands up, he spots Penguin and Bepo making a thumbs up and smiling encouragingly some tables in front of his, he sighs and just goes for it, how hard could this be anyway?

Before he can even say hello, he hears a giggle scape your dark lips alongside a smirk

“Well, well, well if it isn’t Trafalgar Law” he freezes, breath hitching caught redhanded as you turn his way, gazes meeting and Law swears he has died and gone to haven when he gets your attention. You stay ogling each other as you sip on your drink, he seems to have forgotten how to talk or form any thought, remaining spell bound

You step closer and closer, stopping just when your mouth meets one of his ears “What do you want, Captain?”

A shiver runs up and down his spine electrifying his tall form, you take a step back and smirk at the flushed pirate, he clears his throat as he pulls his suit in place

“Didn’t knew I was being that obvious” you laugh and he can’t help the pride that swirls in his chest at the thought of him being the reason for your heavenly laugh echoing through the room

“Word says you’ve been looking for me… what’s got you so desperate?” In a sly move you hand him your drink before slipping away between the tables and the ton. He sets it down in a hurry, his feet move faster than his mind and suddenly he has you by your wrist pulling you closer to the dance floor, prying eyes and whisperings all around you

“Guess now we gon’ have to dance”

Everything blurred the moment you pulled Law closer to you and swayed around the rhythm of the piano and violins. Your expensive perfume, soft touches, the sound of your heels clicking and your jewelry tickling invaded his senses, he didn’t even knew how to dance but suddenly that didn’t mattered anymore. The doctor followed your steps all around the dance floor like a moth to a flame, his golden eyes burning trough you. When your face’s would be just too close you’d smile before pulling away in a spin, teasing the poor Captain

And he was eating it up

Time flew by as he got lost in the music and the excellent company, as you spin around yet again, in the corner of his eye he sees Bepo making confusing signs and moving his paws frantically to make him look. He comes back to himself and in a sudden brave move he presses your body againts his, hand on your waist firmly staring at your orbs hoping you’ll freeze, to his luck you do

For the first time in the night he can feel you tense against his touch, your eyes open wide but not opposing to the gesture

“I’m here on business” Law whispers but keeps his tone stern enough, swaying both of you out of the center of the room

“Too bad, would’ve love a drink with you Mr. Trafalgar” you look up to his now serious face making you pout, hesitant you sit at the nearest table sighing as he does the same

“You’re not easy to find”

“And I would like it to stay that way” you scan the room, taking note of the mink and the man with a hat glancing your way, silently planning on your fastest escape, locating the exits

Law extends you a bag with berry before he asks the information he had been looking for, and you oblige

To his surprise you didn’t seemed to want to hide or keep anything he may need to yourself, making the conversation way more easy to navigate. After you answer all of his questions and he’s about to get up the table, you grab his tattooed hand, depositing the berry bag on it and closing it back

“Keep it handsome - you wink.- consider this a favor” It had been long when you learned to never owe or trust a pirate, but you needed an excuse to see him again

If there was a god, Law would be in debt with them forever for making you so bold. Now he was graced with your hands on his and your longing gaze praying he’d catch up, and he did almost immediately, reading the want behind your touches and gazes and he can’t help but to smirk at the fact

Torturously slowl, he lowers his lips to grasp your ear mimicking your action from moments prior, loving the intoxicating sensation “Trust me I’d be keeping that favor sweetheart, thank you” and you let go

You part ways for the night but best believe, you would remain engrained on that mans mind until you see each other again and he prays is sooner than later

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Idk what possessed me I enjoyed it tho

[iiiumihottie]

[Image descriptions available in alt text and under the cut.] second batch of character portraits for the fic This Dark Thing That Sleeps In Me by @late-to-the-magnus-archives! wonderful, wonderful fic. i am cradling it in my hands.

first batch

[ID 1: A drawing of Jonah from The Magnus Archives. He has a stern expression and stance. He wears dark, ruffled clothing like a billowing coat and necktie. He has very pale skin and wavy black and white hair. End ID.]

[ID 2: A drawing of Tim from The Magnus Archives. He has a confident hand hooked through a sash on his waist and a smile on his face. He wears an unbuttoned, frilly white shirt, dark pants, and a red sash, as well as blue eye makeup and berry colored lipstick. Tim has tan skin and brown, short hair, as well as defined muscle. End ID.]

[ID 3: A drawing of a young Jon from The Magnus Archives. He looks nervous and glances to the side. He wears a green vest, white shirt, and dark pants. From his ear dangles a small cage, and he has scars on his hands. He is depicted with brown skin and dark, barely shoulder length hair tied back. End ID.]

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Therapy Files 4: A Marionette to An Animal (Carmy)

Screenshot Credit: @neverscreens

Summary: Carmy can only seem to talk about his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) in therapy. (790 Words)

Warnings: Swearing, comfort, fem reader/lass girlfriend who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, lipstick prints, I guess the therapist could also be the reader?

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in the Therapy Files Series and will be tagged with #cb therapy files.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Day 2

I couldn’t even talk about the panic attack.

Like I tried to tell fucking Therapist about it (Darling said I probably shouldn’t write down providers’ names in case this thing gets lost somewhere; creepers about and all, so from now on, my therapist is just Therapist). Darling said it was something that needed acute addressing, but there I sat, words stuck in my throat, face to face with a patient expression, blinking back the cobwebs, racked with shivers—the fuck was I shivering for?—trying to summon anything, a single thing, to explain to this fuck what happened to me at the restaurant when I saw the stupid fucking Christmas tree, because if I could get one word out, then maybe I could stumble to the rest of them, but all I could get out was—

“Pine needles.” Was I even audible? Could she even hear me? I’m damned-near choking on my words, here, please tell me you heard it.

She nodded. “Okay. Pine needles. I’m listening.”

Listening to what? I can’t fucking speak.

“You said you journal, right?” she asked after another eternity of silence.

I nodded. It’s all I could do.

“Did you write about what happened?”

My face went cold when I realized what she implied. Her eyebrows scrunched together. Fuck no, I’m not reading you my journal. No. Absolutely not. Even if I wanted to, it lives at home, and I can’t remember shit about what I write down, so good luck getting me to spill. I blink and words are on the page in my handwriting, like I was possessed by some unearthly being, like some spirit seized control of me for an unknowable amount of time. I’m a marionette to an animal, a broken entity, to love, to hatred, to grief, to pain, to a facsimile of joy, ma’am, you have to understand. I don’t know why I do half the things I do. I don’t have a plan. I’m just kicking as hard as I can against the riptide and inhaling a lungful of salty air whenever I happen to get my head above water.

“I’m really interested in the lipstick print on your hand,” she offered, almost draping the words between us like a fine linen. I caught her gaze. Noted upturned corners of her lips. “You came in with one last week. Do you feel like telling me about it?”

Now my cheeks prickled with warmth. I fixated on the print on the side of my hand, turned it in the light coming in from the window to catch the tiny shimmery particles in the berry shade. “My-my girlfriend. Um…” Shit. Shit, where are my words? You know, if this was a kitchen, if she was asking me how to make a demi-glace, I wouldn’t fucking shut the fuck up. “It’s a comfort thing?”

She nodded, leaned forward. Tell me more.

“Uh, I-I feel less… alone, I guess?”

Therapist lady smiled broader. “That’s very sweet of her.”

Yeah. I dragged my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, it is. She’s, um, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s, uh, she’s really fucking smart.” I chuckled—where did that come from? “Like she always seems to know what’s going on with me, even before I do. But then she’ll also explain it to me, right?”—she nodded— “And it’s kinda like having a mirror who is actually paying attention, but then…” How do I put this? “She’s paying attention, but she doesn’t treat me like I’m stupid for not already getting it?”

She nodded again. “I think I follow. Do you have an example?”

I shifted in my seat and got a jolt of pain in my spine. I ignored it. “Um, so, like, early in the relationship, I-I kept getting, um… I kept losing my words? And she didn’t get impatient with me? Or-or, like, frustrated? And when I got frustrated with myself over it, she pointed out that I’ve never really had the chance to speak freely. And she didn’t make me feel dumb for not figuring that out on my own.”

“It’s pretty important for people to have the space to grow without being made to feel inadequate for not getting there before. We never know what life circumstances someone is bringing to the table. We owe it to them to give them the safety and space to grow when they want that for themselves. I’m glad you had that experience with her.”

Yeah. Yeah, all of that. It was funny; it almost sounded like that was all shit that Darling would’ve said.

“I want to go back to the panic attack you had last week, if that’s okay.”

My stomach flipped.

Darling did say therapy was going to be hard at first.

Tags: @carmenberzattosgf @jess248 @catharticconsolation @persymons @morgthemagpie @glitch0o0 @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly @fridavacado @lumoslemon @cyarskj1899

[celestial-witchposter]

Little Everyday Offerings: Aphrodite Edition 🐚✨️

A lock of hair. (I cut my own, so that makes it easier, but after your next haircut, try taking a piece home and leaving it on your altar. It's a powerful piece of yourself, your femininity, and your beauty.)

A spray of perfume/drop of perfume oil. (This one is super easy if you have a statue/idol or medal you can anoint. It's quick and easy and is easily incorporated into morning routines, rituals, or devotionals.)

A flower (Particularly roses, *especially* red ones - RIP Adonis. Myrtle and apple blossom are also symbolic of Aphrodite. Whether you find them on a walk, buy them for yourself, or receive them as a gift, leave one for the goddess!)

Fruit or berries (Quinces have become her symbol due to the "golden apple" myth of Paris, but any fruit you happen to be eating, a slice can be offered to Aphrodite. Especially figs and apples.)

Water/Moon water (With intention!! Intention is everything. Remember, Aphrodite was born from the sea foam, gifts of the water and the sea are precious to her.)

Seashells (Especially abalone shells, but anything you find along the shores will hold its own power. I have heard stories of worshipers of Aphrodite being asked for specific shells by the goddess/getting a sense that one in particular will be appreciated, so listen to your intuition when choosing which one to leave her, or simply offer the prettiest one you find back to the sea!)

A kiss, with or without lipstick (I think this one speaks for itself. Very good for medals and pendants especially, when on the go. For a statue or idol, I would place them at the base of the statue, near the feet. Above all be respectful, this is a goddess you're speaking to. If you get a sense that you should not offer a kiss, DON'T.)

A sentimental piece of jewelry (It's best if this is a piece you dont intend on wearing. Perhaps something that belonged to a loved one, or something from your childhood that was special to you - I left her freshwater pearls from my very first pearl necklace that is now much too small. 💔)

Milk, honey, or sweets (Make sure to only leave these for a short time, to avoid spoilage. If milk sours, flies are attracted, or honey crystallizes within a few hours on your altar - well first check the milk jug 😄 - but otherwise you may want to take special care to honor the goddess soon, and consider cleansing and protecting yourself and your space.)

Hope this helps! I've been actively honoring and worshiping Aphrodite for about a year now, so I'm not a priestess or anything of that ilk, but the goddess has blessed me and seems pleased enough with my work. If anyone has anything to add, feel free, and feel free to correct me if it seems I'm misinformed. This is just what works and has worked for me. The most important thing really is just to be respectful, Aphrodite isn't all love and light, and can be quite temperamental and even vengeful, which makes her a powerful patron. Best of luck and blessed be!