#which is kind of a draining thing to keep reading

[barnesonly]

˗ˏˋ ★ Little Dove ★ ˎˊ˗

winter soldier x empath!reader

summary: Hydra sends you — a broken empath — into the Winter Soldier’s cell to keep him calm. You’re supposed to soften him. Control him. But instead, something starts to unravel. In both of you.

word count: 6187

WARNINGS: 18+ explicit content, MDNI— disclaimer: contains dark themes. read at your own discretion! angst, slowburn, captivity, tortures, hydra, violence, sa (mentioned), brainwashing, non-consensual experimentation, hurt/comfort, trauma, possible smut in future chapters? we’ll see.

Chapter Seven | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Present day.

The room is quiet. Too quiet. No humming lights. No screaming orders through metal speakers. No blood on the floor. Just stillness — the kind that makes your bones ache.

You sit in a chair that’s too soft. The window behind you is open, and the air smells like rain.

They say that’s a good thing — that you’re safe now. That you’re free.

You didn’t know what freedom meant anymore.

But they gave you a name. Official. Registered.

Apparently, people who escape captivity after vanishing for years make for messy paperwork.

The blip only made it worse. Too many questions. Too many forms.

Eventually, though, you got it.

A name.

You didn’t think long about your first name — you knew instantly.

Dove.

He gave it to you. It was the only real thing about you. Symbolizes freedom you would always say.

Across from you, the therapist waits. She’s not pushy. Not like them. She watches you with a calm, patient gaze, as if nothing you say could ever surprise her.

When she breaks the silence her voice is soft — too soft — you’re not used to that.

“Why don’t we start today’s session with the last thing you remember? Before it ended.”

You stare at your hands. Your fingers still tremble sometimes — like your body never got the message that the war is over.

You breathe in slowly. The air feels too clean.

Before it ended…?

———

Everything was blurry.

Tortures, pain, orders.

Calm him. Soothe him. Soothe her.

Tortures again, more pain, more commands spat like bullets.

Make his pain go away. Reach him. Break him.

You did as you were told.

One face after another — agents, soldiers, broken things barely holding together. You reached into their minds. Quieted their storms. Wrapped soft light around them just long enough for Hydra to patch them up and send them back out to bleed for the cause again.

You never saw the same face twice — that was the rule now.

No attachments. No names. No bonds.

Just your hands pressed to temples slick with sweat, your voice barely above a whisper, telling strangers it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe — all while screaming on the inside.

At some point you stopped knowing which memories were yours and which were theirs.

Which screams were your own and which you pulled from someone else’s head.

It drained you. It hollowed you.

And Hydra knew exactly what they were doing.

They didn’t need to break you anymore.

They just let you rot.

No one mentioned James anymore. Not even Kern.

He wasn’t coming back.

Why would he?

You lied to him. Betrayed him. Broke something you could never put back together.

He looked at you like you were his whole world, and you still chose to play Hydra’s game.

Maybe you didn’t know what you were doing at the time — maybe you thought you were protecting him. But in the end, it didn’t matter.

The damage was done.

And he was free.

Out there. Somewhere far from this place. From you.

And you were still there.

Still caged.

Still wearing their mark like a brand.

You would lie on your cot with your back to the wall, eyes open in the dark, and try not to remember how his hands felt in yours. How he once looked at you like you were real.

But it came anyway.

It always did.

And when it did, the ache in your chest was worse than any pain they could ever inflict.

Because there’s no greater agony than knowing he got out — and still didn’t come back.

———

“I didn’t know he was going to leave me, never come back for me,” you tell her.

Silence.

“But I should have.”

The words slip out like a secret — not for her, but for you. Like they’ve been rotting behind your teeth for years, waiting.

“Is this the last thing you remember? Him not coming back?” she tilts her head, her gaze locked on you.

“No.”

“Was it the blip?”

“It was the chaos.”

———

Months turned into years.

But you didn’t know exactly how long it’s been — just long enough to use that term — years.

They wouldn’t ask if you’re ready anymore.

They’d just open the door.

No words. No looks. Just the soft hiss of metal and the figure waiting on the other side — another Hydra agent, another soul unraveling at the seams.

You didn’t ask his name.

You never did.

He’d walk with you down the corridor, twitchy fingers, dead-eyed stare. You knew the signs. You’ve felt them all before — panic buried so deep it starts to bleed out of the skin.

They sat him across from you. Same room. Same walls that weren’t walls. Same silence, heavy as chains.

You didn’t speak.

You just… breathed.

And reached.

You found it quickly, like always. Fear shaped like a wire inside his chest, humming, burning. You circled around it, loosen it gently. Like pulling a thread from your own heart.

His shoulders relaxed. His eyes cleared, just a little.

Then they took him back to his cell. Called it a success.

They called you useful again.

Back in your cell, you curled against the cold wall and stared at nothing. There was a cot, but you didn’t sleep on it anymore. It was too soft. Too clean.

You missed the dirt. The blood. The one hand that ever touched you without hurting you.

You didn’t cry. That stopped after year two.

What you did now was worse.

You remembered.

His voice. That one word — Don’t — spoken like it cost him something.

His eyes, rimmed with red when he flinched away from your hand.

His silence, heavier than any scream.

You remembered how it felt when you tried to reach him and couldn’t. How empty it was. How cold.

Kern said once, “You still miss him.”

Not a question. Not a cruelty. Just fact.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

The missing lived in your ribs. It breathed through you, slower every year. Like it was trying to teach your body how to forget oxygen.

And maybe it’s not even him you missed. Maybe it was the version of yourself he saw — something worth protecting. Worth saving.

———

“Miss Dove?”

The voice snaps you back to reality.

“You zoned out again.”

“I’m sorry,” you straighten in the chair.

“No need to be sorry.” She smiles at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. Her smile is… genuine. It’s not like Kern’s. It’s real. Her voice doesn’t come with consequences. It doesn’t make you brace for pain. You don’t know what to do with that. “Can you tell me about the blip? The chaos, you mentioned?”

———

The light flickered.

Just once. Quick. Sharp.

You noticed straight away.

You sat up.

There was something in the air. A shift. Like the world inhaled and forgot how to exhale.

You looked at your hand.

And it was… gone.

It wasn’t pain. Not fear. Just a sensation — like warm static. Like falling asleep with your eyes open.

You looked up, into the buzzing light above.

The last thing you thought before everything dissolved was—

James.

And then, nothing.

———

You pause.

Not because you don’t remember — but because it’s the only part that still feels like a dream.

———

You came back in a hallway.

Not a room, not a cot — but in motion. As if the universe hit resume mid-sentence and dropped you back into the middle of something.

The light above you was broken. It flickered and sputtered.

You smelled smoke.

Not chemical. Not controlled.

Burning.

Screams echoed from down the corridor — real ones. Human ones. Not the kind you used to soothe.

You didn’t know what was happening — only that the air was different. Thinner. Warped. Like the building had a heartbeat now, and it was racing.

You pressed your back to the wall, blinking hard. Your fingers tingled — not from your powers, not from pain — but from life. It surged up your arms like adrenaline.

For the first time in years, no one was telling you what to do.

No voice in your ear. No boots stomping toward you. No door locking behind you.

Just chaos.

And opportunity.

You ran.

Barefoot. Silent. Faster than you should’ve been able to. The panic in the air fed you like oxygen. You followed it. Let it pull you.

Alarms shrieked. Somewhere, a pipe burst. You heard Kern’s voice barking orders — not at you. You weren’t his concern anymore.

You were gone.

And they didn’t know it yet.

You slipped past bodies — some screaming, some not moving at all. You didn’t stop to check. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

All you knew was you had to reach the exit.

Even if you didn’t know where it was.

Even if Hydra had changed the halls a dozen times since the last time you let yourself care about the layout.

You just moved.

You moved like someone who had nothing left to lose.

———

In the chair, your throat tightens.

You realize your hand is gripping the armrest.

Hard.

“You got out,” the therapist says softly. “That’s how you escaped.”

You nod once.

Barely.

Her voice drops lower. “Was anyone with you?”

Your voice is a whisper.

“No.”

She waits a beat. Then asks the thing you’ve been waiting for.

“Did you look for him?”

You laugh, but it’s not really a laugh.

You stare at the window again.

“I didn’t know where to look,” you say.

And then, quieter—

“I didn’t know if he’d even want to be found.”

The words sit between you like something living.

You don’t take them back.

You mean them.

You still do.

Because it’s not just about what he would do.

It’s about what you did.

And some things feel too heavy to come back from.

The therapist doesn’t say anything right away.

She just watches you — gently, like someone waiting for a bird to land, not spook it.

“I think he would’ve wanted you to survive,” she says, eventually. “Even if he wasn’t there.”

You blink, slowly.

“I did.”

It comes out quieter than you expect.

“I survived.”

A pause.

“He didn’t save me.”

You lift your gaze now, meet hers.

“But I saved myself. I like to think it’s a good thing.”

She nods — and it’s not pity. It’s not praise. Just understanding.

“Where did you go after?” she asks.

You exhale. Your shoulders curl forward before you realize you’re doing it.

You remember—

———

The woods smelled different than anything inside Hydra.

Rot and leaves. Rain and earth. Life.

You don’t know how far you ran, only that you didn’t stop. Not when your lungs burned. Not when your bare feet bled. You just kept going.

Because if you stopped, they might remember you existed.

You moved by instinct.

Away from roads.

Away from sound.

Away from everything.

The woods didn’t welcome you. But they didn’t reject you either.

You ran until your legs gave out. Until your vision blurred. Until the only thing you could feel was motion.

There was no plan.

No direction.

Just away.

You stumbled through mud, thorns, uneven ground. You bled, you bruised, you crawled. And when you couldn’t go any further, you laid beneath the trees, chest heaving like something broken.

You thought maybe you’d die there.

And for the first time… you weren’t afraid of that.

At least you’d die free.

But the stars came out.

And you were still breathing.

And something in you refused to stop.

So you got back up.

You kept walking.

You stole clothes off a line when you reached some abandoned chalet. You slipped into crowds like a ghost. You didn’t speak, didn’t sleep, didn’t trust.

It took weeks before anyone asked you your name.

You lied. Of course.

But you were alive.

And no one was dragging you back.

———

“You saved yourself,” the therapist says, repeating it like truth. “That’s a powerful thing.”

You nod, once. Your throat is too tight for words.

She watches you for a moment longer, then leans forward slightly.

“What was it like?” she asks. “When you got back. When the world had moved on without you.”

You blink.

What was it like?

The question sounds simple.

It’s not.

———

The world was… loud.

Too loud. Too bright. Too alive.

It wasn’t like before. Not like Hydra.

You stepped into streets that smelled like food and car exhaust and perfume. Neon lights buzzed overhead like electric wasps. Screens screamed news, music, smiling faces that didn’t look real.

People brushed against your shoulders without apology. Laughed too loud. Tapped glowing rectangles like they were casting spells.

You hated it.

You loved it.

You couldn’t breathe.

You spent three nights in a shelter and never slept. You curled up in the corner and flinched every time someone opened a door. You didn’t talk. You didn’t eat. You just watched the exit.

They called someone — a volunteer, they said. Government-appointed. She showed you a badge. Spoke gently, like you were made of glass.

You didn’t trust her.

But you followed her anyway.

She took you somewhere quieter. A small room, a bed, soft blankets. You stood in the doorway for ten minutes before sitting down.

You waited for the door to lock behind you.

It didn’t.

You were no longer a prisoner.

Now you were just… someone they didn’t know what to do with.

———

“It was like trying to live in someone else’s dream,” you say. “Everything felt fake. Too easy. Too clean.”

The woman nods, her gaze steady. “Did anyone help you adjust?”

You shrug. “They tried.”

There were programs. Government stuff. Trauma recovery. Reintegration.

People asked questions you didn’t know how to answer — about your past, your name, your family.

Sometimes they looked at you like they pitied you.

Sometimes like they didn’t believe you.

“You got a name,” the therapist says gently.

You nod.

“Dove.”

She smiles. “It suits you.”

You want to believe her.

You want to believe you’re someone new.

Or someone you were — when you were good, when you were with him.

But some nights, you still hear it — the electric hum of the door. The scream of metal restraints. The voice in your ear telling you what to do, who to be, who to love.

Some nights you wake up and your hands are glowing.

“I’m trying,” you say. Quiet.

And you are.

You really are.

The therapist’s pen pauses.

She tilts her head. “What about before Hydra?”

Her voice is careful. Measured. Like she already knows the answer but needs to hear you say it.

You don’t answer right away.

You look down at your hands again — always your hands — palms still lined with stories you’ll never remember.

“No,” you whisper. “I never got it back.”

“Nothing at all?”

You shake your head.

There’s a beat of silence between you, thick and patient.

Then, finally, “Sometimes I think maybe that’s worse than anything else.”

She doesn’t speak. She lets you keep going.

“I don’t know what I lost. What kind of person I was. If I had people. If they missed me. If I was even… worth missing.”

You laugh softly, bitter and low. “Maybe I was nobody. Maybe they didn’t need to erase me. Maybe I already didn’t exist.”

You say it like it’s a joke, but it isn’t.

You’ve lived entire years with borrowed memories humming in your skull like bees. Images that weren’t yours. Feelings that didn’t belong to you. You’ve drowned in the weight of other people’s sorrow, but your own past—

It’s a locked room with no door.

The therapist writes something down. You don’t ask what.

Instead, you lift your gaze and meet her eyes.

“Do you think I’d still be me,” you ask, voice rough, “if I got it back?”

She thinks about it. Then her voice softens — again — which only breaks you more.

“I think you’re already you, Dove.”

You don’t know how to take that. So you look out the window instead, at the clouds rolling in over the city.

The world outside feels too open, too clean. The clouds move freely. The trees sway like they don’t know what it means to be caged. Everything out there just… exists. And you don’t know how to be part of that.

But you’ve stood in too many storms to be afraid of a little rain.

“Kern said it was easy to wipe me,” you murmur. “That they didn’t even have to try hard.”

Across from you, the therapist doesn’t flinch. She just sets her pen down. Gently. Like she knows this part matters.

“Who was Kern?” she asks.

You stare down at your hands.

“Kern was…” Your voice tightens. “He was the one who studied me. Broke me down. Piece by piece. He said I was Hydra’s gentle hand. That I made the pain go quiet. Made them easier to use.”

You flex your fingers once. They still remember the cold of the floor. The blood. The way James used to hold them.

“He told me things like he was helping. Like he knew me. But he didn’t. He just… watched. Every time I cracked, he smiled like I was finally doing something right.”

You press your palms into your knees to stop the shaking.

“He liked me better before I started fighting back.”

“What did he do to you?”

A strange sound builds in your throat. Not a sob. Not quite.

“He made me think I was choosing,” you say, voice hollow.

She waits.

You glance up. Just once. Her eyes don’t flinch. She’s not like the others.

“He told me I had power. That I was important. Special. But it was always for their cause. For Hydra. Not for me.” You laugh — low and bitter. “He’d give me choices that weren’t choices. Punishments dressed as lessons. ‘Say no, and someone else suffers. Say yes, and you live another day.’”

The silence stretches.

“He made me think it was my fault,” you whisper. “Everything. Every time James forgot me. Every time I failed. He said it was because I wasn’t strong enough. That I didn’t matter enough.”

You can feel it — something sharp and ugly trying to rise up from your chest, but you force it down.

Then her voice comes again, soft but firm.

“Do you think about him now?”

This time, your answer is instant.

“I want him dead.”

Stillness.

You don’t flinch. You don’t look away.

You just breathe, slow and careful.

“I don’t care if that makes me sound unwell. I want him to pay. Not because of what he did to me. But because he’ll do it again. He is doing it again. Somewhere. To someone.”

You shift in the too-soft chair, crossing your arms before you even realize you’re doing it.

“I don’t like this,” you murmur.

The therapist looks up from her notes. “What don’t you like?”

You hesitate. Not because you don’t know the answer — but because saying it out loud feels like admitting it still has power over you.

“This,” you repeat. “The questions. The quiet. The way you look at me like you’re waiting for something. It reminds me of…”

You trail off. You don’t need to finish.

She does, gently. “Kern.”

You nod, jaw tight. “He asked questions too. Pretended it was for my good. But it wasn’t. It was about control. Always.”

The therapist doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t deny the similarity.

You appreciate that.

“It still feels like a trap,” you admit, voice lower now. “Like there’s a right answer and a wrong one. And if I say the wrong thing, something bad will happen.”

She leans forward, slow and careful, like approaching a wounded animal. “And what would happen, if you said the wrong thing?”

You don’t answer.

Because you know what would happen.

Pain.

Isolation.

Kern’s voice in your ear saying:

You did this to yourself.

You stare at the window again. At the gray sky beyond it. You’re free now. You know that. But knowing doesn’t mean feeling.

“You don’t have to trust me yet,” she says. “Or ever. But you’re not trapped anymore, Dove. You can walk out of this room anytime you want. You can say nothing. You can scream. You can refuse.”

The words make something ache in your chest — not relief, but the terrifying ache of possibility.

Because you’ve never had that before.

Not really.

You swallow hard. “It’s going to take time.”

“That’s okay,” she says. “You have time now.”

Time.

What even is that?

After years spent without a clock on the wall, without a window to tell day from night, time stopped meaning anything. Days bled into one another like spilled ink, indistinguishable and heavy. There was no before, no after. No future to long for, no past to remember.

There was only the present — raw, immediate, inescapable.

Pain didn’t keep track of hours.

Neither did silence.

You shift in the chair, uneasy beneath the weight of a word that once meant something. That maybe could again.

“It’s not just that it reminds me of him,” you say eventually. “It’s… something else.”

Her gaze stays steady, patient.

You shift again, pressing your palms together. “With him… everything was layered. Every smile had a motive. Every word was a test. A trick.”

You look at her now — really look.

And it’s not the same.

There’s no cruelty folded into the corners of her mouth. No glint of control behind her pupils. No manufactured softness waiting to snap shut around you like a trap.

“There’s nothing false in your face,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “And that’s why it scares me.”

She tilts her head, curious but not surprised. “Why does it scare you?”

“Because I don’t know how to trust that. I don’t know what to do with something that doesn’t want anything from me.”

You blink, and your voice breaks just slightly.

“No one’s ever asked how I feel. They just told me what I’m supposed to be.”

The room is still. The quiet kind again — not empty this time, but full of something.

Understanding.

She doesn’t fill the silence. She just lets it hold you. Lets you be.

And somehow, that feels more dangerous than anything Hydra ever did.

Because it means there’s a you in there somewhere.

One worth listening to.

Then her voice cuts through, low and careful as she changes the topic.

“We’ve talked about him before, James,” she says. “Not much. But… you always refer to him like he was the only real thing in all of that.”

Your throat tightens. You don’t look up.

“He was,” you say quietly. “He still is.”

The therapist nods, waiting. Not pushing.

“He grounded you?”

You nod once. It’s almost imperceptible.

“It was like… like the whole world was breaking apart and rearranging itself around me every second. But he… he stayed the same. Despite the tortures, the brainwash, the pain. He didn’t even have to try. Just breathing the same air as him made it easier to survive.”

She doesn’t write anything down. She doesn’t move.

“He probably doesn’t even know,” you add, voice low. “That he did that for me. That he kept me human.”

There’s a pause, and then the question you knew would come, eventually.

“Do you want to see him again?”

You don’t answer right away.

You trace the seam of your sleeve with your thumb. The silence stretches thin, trembling.

“Yes,” you say, finally. “I would like to see him.”

It slips out softer than you meant it to, but it’s the truth.

The therapist doesn’t smile this time. She just nods, slow and deliberate. Like she understands what it cost you to say it.

“You said… you don’t know if he’d want to be found,” she says after a moment. “But do you?”

“Yes,” you say softly. “I think I do.”

There’s a pause — not surprised, not expectant. Just space for your truth to breathe.

“He was the only thing that felt real. Back then. And sometimes still now.”

You don’t look at her. You keep your eyes on your hands. Safer that way.

“I don’t know if I’d say anything. Or if I could. But I want to know if he’s okay. If he made it. If what we had meant anything to him… even after…. Everything. Or if I made it all up in my head to survive.”

The therapist doesn’t answer right away. She just sits there, that same gentle presence.

And for once, you don’t feel dissected.

Just… seen.

She shifts slightly in her chair. Not leaning forward — not closing in — just anchoring herself in the space between you.

Then, gently, “What do you imagine would happen, if you met him again?”

You don’t answer at first.

Not because you don’t know — but because you do.

You picture the way he used to look at you. How he stopped looking at you. That moment behind his eyes when something familiar slipped away for good.

“I don’t know,” you say. It’s half a lie. “Maybe nothing. Maybe it would just… hurt more.”

The therapist nods, not pushing. “Sometimes we think we need closure from someone else. But often what we’re really looking for is a way to make peace with how things ended.”

Your gaze drops for a moment.

“I think I’d still want to see him,” you say finally. “Even if he didn’t look at me the same. Even if he walked away.”

Another pause. Not uncomfortable — just space.

“I miss who I was with him,” you admit. “And I don’t know if that version of me exists without him.”

“That’s something we can talk about,” the therapist says softly. “Not just him — but you. That version of you. What she felt. What she lost. And what she still carries.”

You exhale slowly. It’s not relief, not yet — but something close.

You nod.

“I carry his name for me,” you admit with a weak smile. “He gave it to me. James. He called me Dove. Back when we were still…” Your voice fades, and you press your lips together. “It was the only thing that ever felt real. He made me feel like a person. Not a number.”

The therapist doesn’t interrupt. She doesn’t have to.

“In that place, you don’t get to be real. You’re a tool. A thing. And he—he looked at me like I was more than that. And he said it like it meant something.”

You lift your gaze toward her, just for a moment.

“I kept it after. When I got out. When they registered me, asked what name I wanted… I didn’t even think. I just said it.”

You try to smile, but it’s faint. “I like to think it means something now. That maybe I made it mine.”

The therapist’s voice is low, steady. “It sounds like you did.” Her eyes soften. She leans forward just slightly, enough to show she’s listening — not pressing, not pushing, just there.

“It sounds like you’ve held onto that name the way someone holds onto a lifeline,” she continues gently. “What do you think it means to you now? Not then, when he gave it to you—but now, when you choose it every day.”

You hesitate.

That’s the kind of question that feels too big. Too layered. Like there’s no way to answer it without unraveling something you’ve spent years keeping stitched together.

Your thumb presses harder into the seam of your sleeve.

“I think…” Your voice is low, barely audible. “I think it used to be about hope. Or maybe freedom. He used to say it like I wasn’t stuck there. Like I could still fly.”

A pause.

“And now?” the therapist prompts, voice quiet as breath.

You swallow. It’s harder to say out loud.

“Now it’s… survival. A reminder, maybe. That I got out. That I’m still here.”

You let out a dry breath of something that might almost be a laugh. “Sometimes I think I keep it so I don’t forget I used to mean something to someone.”

The therapist doesn’t flinch.

“And do you think you mean something now?”

You look at her. Her eyes aren’t calculating. There’s no clipboard, no mirrored glass behind her. Just quiet attention.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “But I want to.”

You don’t look at her when you speak next.

“Do you think…” your voice catches, but you push through. “Do you think it’s possible? That he could ever forgive me?”

The words sit sharp in your mouth. Too raw. Like they’ve been festering in the back of your throat for years, waiting for someone safe enough to hear them.

The therapist doesn’t answer right away. She doesn’t fill the silence with platitudes or optimism. Just gives it space.

“What would he be forgiving you for?” she asks gently, not to test you — but to let you define it.

You shift in your seat.

“For betraying him,” you say. “For letting them use me. Use him. For doing what they told me. For not stopping when I should’ve. For not stopping them.”

A pause.

“For choosing them over him.”

The weight of it sits in your chest like stone. You still can’t bring yourself to meet her eyes.

The therapist’s voice is steady.

“I don’t think you chose them, Dove. I think you did what you had to do to stay alive. That’s not betrayal — that’s survival.”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter what I meant to do. It’s what I did. And he trusted me.”

Finally, you lift your eyes. There’s no tears — not now. Just something quieter. Something older.

“I don’t know if I’d forgive me.”

The therapist leans back slightly, giving you space again. “Sometimes forgiveness isn’t about what we deserve. It’s about what the other person needs.”

A pause.

“And sometimes… it’s about what you need.”

You almost scoff — almost.

“But I used him.” Your voice is low. “He trusted me and I let him down.”

You don’t try to dress it up. No justifications. No blurred lines. You’ve rehearsed this admission in your mind so many times, it no longer feels like something you’re confessing — just something that is.

“I was sent in to manipulate him. That was the mission. Make him calm. Make him listen. Make him easier to control.”

Pause.

“Then I got attached to him, I cared for him, I started developing feelings.” You swallow. “Real feelings,” your voice cracks. “And I still took the deal when they offered it. Because I thought I was doing the right thing. Because—“

Silence.

“Because I was selfish and I didn’t want to lose him.”

Your fingers dig into the fabric of your sleeve again, knuckles pale.

“I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway. I thought maybe… maybe I could protect him if I stayed close. But I lied to him. Over and over. And when he finally started to wake up—when he started to remember—I got scared. I tried to shut it down. Tried to pull him back instead of letting him go.”

You look at her then. Force yourself to.

“That’s not survival. That’s cruelty.”

The therapist holds your gaze, steady and quiet.

“You were a prisoner,” she says. “You were surviving in the only way you could.”

You shake your head again, harsher this time. “It doesn’t change the truth.”

“No,” she agrees gently. “But maybe it changes how you carry it.”

You let the words sit. Not because they comfort you — but because, for a second, you want to believe them.

Then:

“I didn’t save him,” you murmur.

“No,” the therapist says. “But you loved him.”

You don’t respond right away.

The room is too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes your heartbeat feel loud in your ears.

“I think,” you say eventually, “I didn’t even know what love was. Not really. Not until it was already too late.”

You don’t look at her when you say it. You stare past her, into a corner of the room where the paint chips faintly at the edge of the wall. You wonder how many others have sat in this same chair, staring at that same corner, hoping to outrun ghosts.

“I thought it was something soft. Gentle. But what I felt for him—” You shake your head. “It wasn’t soft. It was desperate. Fierce. I would’ve torn the whole world apart for him. And that scared me.”

Your nails press into your palm now, hard enough to sting.

“Hydra taught us to weaponize everything. Our bodies. Our minds. Our emotions.” You huff out something that isn’t quite a laugh. “Even love.”

The therapist says nothing — just lets you speak.

“Sometimes I wonder if that’s all I ever was to him too,” you murmur. “A trigger. A command. A safety valve. Something useful.”

Now you glance at her, briefly.

“And I wonder if he thinks about me the way I think about him. Not like a person. But like something lost.”

Silence stretches again. This time, you don’t fill it.

Until finally, the therapist speaks — soft and steady:

“Do you think you’re a person now?”

The question hits harder than you expect. And not because it’s cruel but because you don’t know the answer.

Do you think you’re a person now?

The words echo.

Not in the room — in your chest.

It’s not the kind of question that floats gently to the surface. It crashes. Splinters. Like glass striking tile. You almost wince.

Your mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again.

“…I don’t know,” you admit, hoarse.

The truth of it unsettles you more than it should.

“I can play the part,” you continue after a second. “Eat meals. Make conversation. Walk down the street like I belong there. But sometimes I still feel like I’m watching from behind glass.”

You draw a slow breath.

“I thought freedom would feel like air. Like a clean slate. But it’s more like—” Your fingers twitch against the hem of your sleeve, trying to name it. “Like being untethered. No one telling you who to be. No one deciding what you’re worth. And you’d think that would feel good.”

A beat.

“But mostly it just feels like falling.”

The therapist nods, not interrupting. Just listening. You feel her presence like a weight meant to anchor, not to hold you down.

You try to smile. It doesn’t quite land.

“I spent years being nothing but what they told me to be. A ghost in someone else’s machine. And now…” You gesture vaguely at yourself. “Now I have a name, but no past. Feelings, but no map. I have a body, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like mine.”

Then, quieter:

“I think I want to be a person. I just don’t know how.”

The therapist leans forward slightly, her voice still gentle, but more grounded now. “Maybe you don’t have to know yet. Maybe you just have to keep choosing it.”

You swallow. Your throat feels too tight.

You don’t cry.

But your fingers keep pressing into the fabric of your sleeve like it’s the only thing keeping you here.

Like you’re trying to hold yourself in place.

Your voice comes smaller this time, almost like it’s not meant to be heard.

“No one told me how overwhelming the feeling of freedom would be.”

The therapist doesn’t move, doesn’t speak too quickly. She lets the weight of it settle in the room, lets you breathe through the admission.

“It’s supposed to be this… beautiful thing,” you murmur. “You imagine it’ll feel like light pouring in. Like something sacred. But it’s not like that.”

You look at her, and this time, your smile is bitter.

“It’s terrifying. There’s too much space. Too many choices. Too many ways to be wrong.”

A pause.

“And after everything… after all the things I’ve done… I don’t even know if I deserve it.”

The words hang there, hollow and sharp.

The therapist doesn’t flinch. She lets a few breaths pass, her gaze steady but soft.

“You talk about deserving like it’s something you earn,” she says quietly. “Like it’s something you can lose.”

You don’t look at her, but you’re listening.

She smiles just a little, voice steady. “But freedom isn’t a reward. It’s a right. One they took from you. One you’re still learning how to reclaim.”

You say nothing. But your hands have stopped moving.

“You survived, Dove. That wasn’t weakness. That wasn’t cruelty. That was strength.”

A beat.

“You’re not the things they made you do. You’re the person who walked out anyway.”

That finally makes you look at her again.

Your mouth parts — to argue maybe, or deny, or say something sharp to push it all away — but nothing comes.

Just that unbearable ache behind your ribs.

Just the thought — What if she’s right?

Interview over.

Chapter Eight 🕊️

tags (tysm for all the love and support, If you asked to be tagged and I didn’t tag you it means I couldn’t for some reason 💔): @tfamidoingwithmylife @stell404 @shakysif @unicornqueen05 @carolinianmermaid @zoroforlife @beforemdnight @nicksolemnlyswears @mistalli @blazeflays @storystorktwo @its-in-the-woods @blv3rd @starkglory @diabolicaldinosaur @elisha-chloe @miyababbby @cats-chaotic-mind

[verdurous-heaven]

Pick a pile: why are you unforgettable?

Hello everyone! Hope everyone's doing fine. Please pick one or more than a one pile you feel the most drawn towards or u can simply use a random number generator for it and enjoy your reading. Like and reblog to claim.

Pile: 1

You guys are the leaders! my loves. You guys remind me of the pack leader(alpha pack leader of the wolves). Your leadership quality is the first n the most shining thing the world notices about you which makes u quite literally the unforgettable in a crowd of millions. Your willpower n resilient nature is what keeps u in your go-getter energy n is the most admirable thing in your personality. Even if you guys are hurting inside, hit the rock bottom n go through a dozen shit of hurdles, you don't forget to give love out to those who deserve it. (I'd be lying if I said you have healthy boundaries n just give love to the deserving ones coz you guys are the people pleasers! me too hun me too, let's work on this tgt).

Despite this alpha leader persona n hard personality, underneath lies a complete softie, a pookie full of love, light n laughter. When I say you guys are full of love, I don't just mean you guys are the givers coz u do know how to back off when the equal effort is not being reciprocated from the opposite party. And then you are on your self love journey to restore the love u unnecessarily gave out. Woah I love this bold move of yours guys muah<3 This quality might be the first n foremost thing your exes, ex friends, known ones remember when they think of you.

As I said before you guys are the leaders meaning no matter what you won't backoff once u set ur mind onto something. This go getter personality comes handy in most difficult situations. You guys might be the ones settling a quarrel n then going after the goal you guys were quarrelling about. (I'm not really good with examples so bear with me, let's say you n your group of friends are quarrelling about a project report n are not settling on to the roles of who will do the given things n so on, that's when you'll jump in, give everyone their respective roles n work n settle the argument while doing your own work n excelling in the class project report among every other classmates ykwim?)

People admire the strength in you to walk away from literally everything and anything that hurts you or drains you. You are also unforgettable with your instant decision making skills. People might have noticed how you can instantly make really good decisions on the spot which favours u for the longest. Your communication n thinking capabilities are top notch. You're a hustler. You guys look like you have it all, you have your shit together. Wherever you go people often think you might have it all(bags full of money, beauty, hunger for power, wisdom n everything one can ask for)

You guys are also unforgettable for your love for travelling esp in nature or the countryside. You might often travel overseas or atleast out of states which makes others think you are financially really well off(doesn't matter if u hv enough or more than enough but ur essence gives luxury) you guys might be gifted creatively could be singing, painting, sketching, dancing, playing instruments or anything n that's what makes u unforgettable for some.

Honourable mention: your manipulation skills. Use it only when it's needed n not to harm others or for taking advantage of others.

Pile: 2

You guys are my mystic healers pile. That innocent n kind heart with strength n fierce power, that's your essence n this is why you guys are so unforgettable. You guys have the strength, the fire, the power to face any hurdle of your life n still have the heart to be soft, gentle n kind to the world. I wonder how u guys have such a big heart that even going through some real shit you still have the power to be tolerant n being kind. I cannot say enough just know that you guys are really hard to ignore n even hard to forget. If a person bumps u even for a sec they'll spend the rest of their life thinking about u from time to time. You'll always be there in the back of their mind. You have the charm, charisma that's really hard to go unnoticed.

You are also my carefree cleric n the lovers of the life pile. I'm still in awe of how someone can be soooooooo kind n gentle even after having a life full of lessons n reality checks. I wanna give a tight n warm hug my loves(gosh I'm getting emo for some reasons😭a big bear hug n loads of love from my side<3) you guys reminds me of a line I read or heard somewhere which goes like, "we are broken beyond the words yet we are the most powerful creatures of the world" (maybe tvd or ogs) your soul may feel broken n tired but you still are so so powerful that even I feel goosebumps while writing this. I'm so so proud of you my pile 2. You guys hv done enough for the world n will continue to do so, so let's take a sec n appreciate u for that. Breathe in n breathe out for a sec n say I am proud of myself n I love myself.

Also there might be a tendency to juggle between things, thoughts, choices n options where you're not really good at. Also u guys find it difficult to make a choice when given infront of u with too many options. You often feel confused about your life, future, purpose etc. there's always this mental conflict going on n it doesn't go unnoticed by the others which is also the reason you're the talk of the town most of the time which makes u quite literally unforgettable. Unlike pile 1 you're not really good with decision makings(which is not a bad thing, it happens just trust ur instincts n go with the choice you feel is right for u. Learn to trust ur gut feeling. Practice ur Intuition n start listening to your inner voice).

You guys are also the ones who leave the deepest impression on the people u interact with. Your energy is transformative n so are your thoughts, personality, behaviour n habits. This is also the reason you're unforgettable coz you break free from anything n everything when u want. You don't stay stagnant over a place, person or a thing if not needed. There's this mysticism in the way you talk or walk which makes u unforgettable even after a milli sec of talk. Yet you carry your heart on ur sleeves, so full of love,kindness,bubbly n childlike energy. Even your presence heals the ones in your surroundings. You are a blessing in other people's lives. You guys are my hardcore romantic n travel often to find love in diff places, things n whatnot which makes u so unforgettable.

Useful tip: start learning n practicing reiki. You guys have that ability n it'll help u earn a good chunk of money. This ability can help u financially so make use of it. Reiki,aura cleansing, and energy healing are just your things. You can heal people even through your thoughts so try exploring this side of your spiritual journey.

Pile: 3

You guys are my flame-child pile 3. The most strongest among the other 2 piles(don't tell them this ok. They are my leaders n healers but u guys are my warriors). You guys might often see or feel the tension, conflict or hollow victory in ur life but the truth is you are the real warriors n can conquer victory over anything. From mental to physical conflict you can win over anything. You guys will win no matter what. Despite having this strong demeanour you guys are still the most happy go lucky kinda people which makes u the most irresistible and unforgettable.

You can also be really good with your hands n craft. Could any craft be it be painting, sketching, drawing, carpeting?? crocheting, knitting, origami, pottery, jwellery making etc. You guys always walk with hope in your heart. Walk with the intentions of letting go of the past n looking out for the new beginning. You don't cling to your past n that quality of yours makes u so unforgettable in my eyes ✨ there's also this dominance in your personality yet a puppy like soul. You guys can work the best in groups. You can lead a group really gracefully n make it do its work. You can be in a music band, dance group or usually likes to work or play in groups rather to go solo. Teamwork makes the dreamwork could be your tagline.

You can also be really good at multitasking or juggling responsibility. This habit of yours makes u shine the most around ur people and even strangers. People know you're the endgame. They either wanna be you or wanna be close to u somehow. But u behave like a light switch, can literally switch on or off your sunshine personality depending upon the situations or people u are around with. You guys are my magicians. You're the world or the one saving the world there's no in between n this is what makes u unforgettable in the memory of those who know you.

You might be the popular one at school/college/uni/work or might become very popular or well known in the coming future. There's also a possibility that you guys have friends from all over the world which makes u quite popular in different countries coz the people you're friends with are quite popular in their respective countries n u fly to go meet em every once in a while(hello my fella celebs nice to meet u). Also as I said before you guys are so carefree,lovely, kind n hopelessly romantic at heart who don't even hold grudges against no-one. You can adapt to any situation n can tolerate almost everything with patience is what makes u unforgettable. You have this hidden or mysterious personality due to which u allure so many diff people with ur Intuition n unpredictable abilities. Ketu or Pluto in 1h vibe. One moment people are like they know u and the other moment they flip like they don't even know u abit. This mysterious personality charms everyone around u.

Advice: always remain humble n down to earth. Respect your elders, teachers n the unprivileged ones, this will help u rise like a phoenix from the ashes after every downfall or struggle. Victory will be yours as long as you're helpful, kind n humble towards everyone around u including ur foes.

If you guys made it till the end, pls do like n leave a feedback to lmk if this resonates or not. Thankyou so very much for reading my first ever pac reading. Love u all. Have a good night/day ahead🫶🏼🧿

Credits giving section:

The divider used within the post is from the lovely @thecutestgrotto

And the pile pictures taken from pinterest do not belong to me and the credit goes to their rightful owners.

© All rights reserved to verdurous-heaven. Please refrain from reframing, reposting or using my work without my permission. ©VH 2025

[anim-ttrpgs]

something I don’t get about the disability metaphor is that for eureka monsters obviously it harms another person to eat them. the help a disabled person needs doesn’t actively harm or kill another person. Maybe it’s a difference in perspectives that cannot be resolved

(What I’m about to write could potentially sound very fucked up at first so I’m going to need to trust everyone to read the whole thing before forming an opinion.)

Also this message and response references these two posts.

Eureka’s stance on disabled people is that they (including myself writing this) are, or at least can often be, burdens.

Disabled people often require more resources to live than they are able to “give back,” which, in our capitalist and artificial-scarcity-based economy, is just about the worst thing a person can do.

Anti-ableism sentiment often focuses on the idea that “disabled people aren’t burdens, that they’re just as good and capable as everyone else,” but if they were, they wouldn’t be “disabled” would they? When you say stuff like that, you’re conceding that a person’s worth is determined by how capable they are at doing work, and then having to bend over backwards to justify thinking that a person without arms is just as valuable as a person with arms. Eureka is asking you to decouple a person’s value from how much net resources they can produce.

Often times also, the resources that real disabled people consume are human resources, and those human resources are very much capable of suffering for it. Nurses are overworked, around-the-clock care is absolutely physically and mentally exhausting, people who have to care for their elderly or otherwise disabled relatives on top of their regular jobs don’t get to have social lives or hobbies, etc.

To this end, we wrote the monsters in Eureka to be unquestionably people who “cause damage” to society by literally eating up human resources, because they have to to live, they have no other choice unless they want to just die. Your friend is gone from your life because he has to spend all his free time caring for his comatose wife after a freak car accident. Your friend is gone from your life because a vampire randomly ate him. Providing a metaphor isn't all the monsters are doing, they just work well through that lens.

And then Eureka forces you to look at these people as people, and make up your mind as to whether they have value and a right to prologue their own existence. We can’t force you to agree that they do, but if you think they don’t, then you’ll have to make that argument looking at an intelligent person with a life rather than a pure hypothetical or statistics on a chart.

There are some monsters in Eureka where, if the economy or societal structures were changed, they would stop being such severe drains on resources and could exist harmlessly within society, and there are some monsters where no imaginable amount of societal change would solve the problems they cause. This is true of disabled people IRL as well. Some of them would require no further assistance with living if certain things about society changed, and others would still require a massive amount of human resources.

And even when it’s not necessarily human resources, the extra resources that disabled people need also cause huge energy expenditure and create huge amounts of plastic waste, which are things that contribute to global warming and pollution, which do have significant harmful effects on everyone’s lives. Despite this, they are still “worth it” to keep around.

As for actively causing harm, that happens too. I randomly scrolled past this post after we got this message and saved it so I could link it here.

This person and their family had to cause a big stink in a restaurant just to get an accommodation that they needed, and to us reading it from their perspective, we’re obviously on their side, but I can assure you that the overworked staff at that restaurant didn’t see it that way. They saw the disabled person as an aggressive Karen whom they would never in a million years want to have to provide customer service to. The disabled person & family had to get aggressive, and ruin the staff’s day, to get what they needed. That’s actively causing harm - harm we all agreed was justified to cause - but harm nonetheless.

Plastic straws aren’t that big of a deal for global pollution, but even if they were, the point is that this person still would have needed a straw. It doesn’t line up one-to-one, because metaphors rarely do, but a vampire asking if they can drink someone’s blood, and being told No, may find themselves in much the same position. (And if you bring up that some people find vampires really sexy, you’re missing the point. “I would give them a straw if they had sex with me.” is not actually a great thing to announce about yourself.)

I can also come up with an example from my own life. I personally am very sensitive to noise and noise pollution. If there’s music playing at a public space, I usually can’t handle it. (Earplugs don’t work for other reasons I won’t get into - plus, if I just deafen myself to all sound, how can I socialize with anyone in this public space?)

If I want to exist in this space, I will have to actively cause harm to everyone there, or else stop existing in that space. I will have to go up to whoever is responsible and ask them to turn off the music, actively taking it away from everyone else who was enjoying it. I have to take action to ruin their good time if I want to exist in that space at all, and they might, very understandably, be pissed off at me for doing that. Because, like I said in this other post, the people that monsters eat do have a right to prevent themselves from being eaten by monsters. We aren't proposing that the solution is everyone has to line up to be mauled to death by monsters or else they're a bad person.

Who has a greater right to enjoy themselves in that space? That’s the kind of question that Eureka poses, and makes you consider both sides as human being rather than denoting one as just an ontologically evil villain to be destroyed.

We actually don't know of perfect solutions to all the problems presented by the existance of monsters in Eureka, we just know that "exterminate all people who are parasites and burdens to society" ain't it.

[deikshen]

More DILF Shen Yuan because I woke up from that mood

Shen Yuan has an ex-wife with whom he gets along well, an older daughter who is already of legal age as geeky as he is, two younger thirteen years old twin sons, and his daughter under ten years old. He is closer to fifty than forty, and apparently a traditional life with a wife and children was what was necessary for him to accept how terribly homosexual he is.

But that's okay, he supposes. Accepting his sexuality, learning to communicate better... Necessary things. His ex-wife is now his friend, his children are well raised with lots of love and patience. Shen Yuan does not consider his divorce a failure, as his brothers accuse him, just another experience. He was not happy in his marriage. Why should he remain in a place where he was not happy?

Then one day, Luo Binghe knocks on his door.

Shen Yuan looks at the haughty man dressed in xianxia robes, a sword on his back, says "fuck not today" and closes the door in his face. Luo Binghe enters anyway. Look, Shen Yuan may enjoy the habit of reading and trashing web novels... That doesn't mean he accepts web novel protagonists ending up at his doorstep! Really!!

Luo Binghe looks shocked to see him, Shizun this, Shizun that. He looks at him as if Shen Yuan in his haughty fifties with gray hair and a tired face had two heads or four arms.

Well, it's Luo Binghe. Shen Yuan knows that he has no chance to fight him. It's not even opposed to the idea of fantasy - age drains one's imagination. If Luo Binghe is there, great, damn, he really is there.

Shen Yuan takes a deep breath, scolds him for breaking his door, tells him that he's really not in the mood for games or riddles. He has to finish correcting some important files which must be delivered no later than tonight. Luo Binghe is invited to stay as long as he keeps that sword away from his children. This week they will be with their mother, but not the following week, and that is his only condition. He's not going to let the kids near that sword.

... Luo Binghe surprisingly accepts it.

In reality, Shen Yuan is concentrating on his work so as not to think that there is a xianxia protagonist inspecting every aspect of his house. By the time he submits the corrections he owes, it's not even dusk yet and Luo Binghe is sitting on the sofa in the living room, watching a historical drama that Shen Yuan sometimes watches with a look of surprise. Shen Yuan explains the plot to him a bit and when it seems that Luo Binghe is more lost than found, he actually asks him what he wants. How did he get there? Why to his house? What does he want?

Luo Binghe looks annoyed that he has to explain - as if Shen Yuan should know beforehand or just agree to Luo Binghe's demands without asking! He explains about opening portals with Xin Mo, a strange world where there was another him, a kind Shizun married to another Luo Binghe. Something about a soul exchange, tracing the soul back to... him. Luo Binghe wants that kind Shizun for himself. He wants what is rightfully his. Why would a Luo Binghe have someone like that in his life, and he wouldn't?

Shen Yuan tries to be open-minded enough. Well, it's not like there's any other explanation. Luo Binghe shows him his claws, his zuiyin, and it's clear that he really is who he says he is. Shen Yuan assumes that a version of him (different? Who came out of the closet before marrying a woman?) transmigrated and took his favorite character as a husband, even if it is from the skin of the scum villain. Well, congratulations to him. Shen Yuan wishes them all the best.

But now there is a very real, very demonic, very traumatized Luo Binghe in his living room, watching a transmigration drama, trying to understand everything. Shen Yuan feels sad for him. He definitely needs kindness, good treatment, better care. These are not things he gets in the harem! Always having to be the provider, the protector, the one who gives his all. Shen Yuan had always been annoyed by that part of the story.

Well, now he can change that, can't he?

He tells him that he is not willing to go with him. He has a very good job as an editor, his children have an arrangement to spend one week at his house and one week at their mother's house, he has a good relationship with his ex-wife. Going to another universe would complicate his life as long as he doesn't do it during his vacation season.

However, Luo Binghe is welcome to stay. Shen Yuan will be kind to him, but if Luo Binghe wants to, he must communicate about it. And he cannot talk about other worlds, demons, harem or emperors when his children are at home. Luo Binghe doesn't quite agree, but he agrees. Shen Yuan promises him that he will take a vacation and go to that world of his to meet him, but it won't be right away. Luo Binghe is a little appeased by that.

And so, a few days later, Shen Yuan picks up his children from his ex's house and tells them: "I've brought a friend to live with us for a while."

He explains to them that he comes from far away, that he doesn't know much about the city or technology, that he speaks strangely and that it can be overwhelming. But he is a good friend, he cooks exquisitely, and he will enjoy spending time with them.

(Luo Binghe would not agree to that last point.)

They are somewhat wary, a wariness that goes away when they enter a house that smells of delicious, unburned home-cooked food. After dinner, they are more willing to accept Luo Binghe into their home and their life. And Luo Binghe does his part well: he behaves pleasantly, speaks casually, does not terrify or intimidate the children, he is a functional adult... As soon as the kids go to their rooms he looks up at Shen Yuan with big puppy eyes waiting for pats on the head for being good.

Sweet Jesus. Shen Yuan is too out of the closet for this. How will he survive this Luo Binghe who just wants to be treated kindly without spoiling him and showering him with all the love he deserves?

[thetarotyapper]

what makes you so alluring? (pick-a-card reading)

paid services 18+ paid services tarot community ko-fi

(how to pick a card? observe the given options and choose the one which you feel the most drawn to. select the card based on the number provided below and scroll down to read about the card you have chosen. remember, this is a general reading, so take what resonates! ps.- if you feel drawn to more than one card/image/pile, feel free to read the others too!! if the chosen pile doesn't relate to you, feel free to choose another. the choice is yours<3)

٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ pile 1

ace of cups, two of cups, 9 of cups, 3 of wands, 7 of pentacles

my lovely pile 1, with the ace of cups and two of cups coming out here, i see you are someone who is very loving and compassionate. you accept people for who they are and you’re a very understanding person. people love spending time with you because you just give out this comforting energy, it's almost irresistible. your kindness and your loving nature is what pulls people towards you. people can't help but just feel drawn to you, you know what i mean? your energy is so rejuvenating and when people talk to you, they feel so much lighter and better. but please be careful, im seeing that you might also attract a lot of negative energy. people see you as someone who can rescue them and because of this, im seeing that many people depend on you for emotional support. you might feel drained at some point but seeing people happy is your first priority and you know that people feel good when they are with you and that is what keeps you going. you are a very empathetic person and im seeing that many people would like to be your friend. 

with the 9 of cups and 7 of pentacles here, im seeing that you are someone who has put in a lot of hard work to be where you are right now. at some point in your life you might have felt like nothing is going your way and that all your efforts are going to vain, but here's the thing - you don't lose your ground. you still put in your 100% and because of your dedication and your strong mindset, you have reached the point in life where you are satisfied and you know your worth. you are someone who is independent and confident, and honestly babe you should be because only you know how much efforts you have put in - so be proud of yourself. you are in a state of emotional happiness and i don't see you letting anyone ruin your contentment. people find your hard work, dedication, efforts, confidence and independence very alluring. i wouldn't be surprised if people look at you as their role model. and for some reason i was getting a feeling that you might be interested in psychology because you always want to understand people on a deeper level and understand why people behave the way they do.

lastly with the 3 of wands falling out, your vision and your willingness to grow is what makes you so alluring. you are someone who is not afraid to let go of things that no longer serves you right. it's not easy, but you know that in order to seek something better, you need to move on from the negative energies. your ideas, your plans, your movements, the way you think is what makes you so alluring. you are someone who thinks about the future and you have this magnetic energy that draws people towards you. you are someone who likes to try out new things and you never settle for less. your curious nature and your thinking skills are what makes you alluring. your ability to see the good in the bad is what makes you so alluring.

٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ pile 2

the devil, ace of swords (reversed), hanged man, queen of swords, queen of wands

with the devil and the ace of swords popping out, the first thing i can confidently say is that you are someone who never gives up. you are someone who goes out of their way to seek the answer you are looking for and no matter the obstacles, you always overcome it. you give me the vibes of someone who has a very intense gaze and you guys might like to apply kajal/eyeliner - or maybe you have a very different style of applying it and people are drawn towards your eyes because of that. you might even have blue eyes or maybe you have very intense eyes because i see that your eyes make you look otherworldly. OMG WAIT I FINALLY FOUND THE WORD - bold and seductive. that's the energy you give off. you’re also unapologetically you and i'm seeing that some people might hate this about you but at the same time they find it so damn sexy. ugh pile 2 im literally tryna be like you because your energy is CAPTIVATING. you have this mysterious energy and you’re also someone who is very smart. im seeing that many people tend to get nervous around you and i'm also seeing that you like to keep people on their tippy toes. you like it people get worked up around you, don't you pile 2 hahaha. 

with the hanged man here, i see that regardless of having such a strong heart, you are someone who is vulnerable and you are sympathetic when you need to be. but if someone takes advantage of your soft side, oh i see you never forgiving them. you do not open up to people easily and it takes you a lot of time to trust someone, but if someone breaks that trust, you won't hesitate to remove them from your life. you are also someone who will not rest until you find your answers. you have a very driven nature and im seeing that many people wish they were you. can you even blame them babe? I WANNA BE YOU TOO PLEASE SHARE YOUR SECRETS. you also have a unique way of finding answers and people love listening to your opinions. you are someone who can remain calm when things don't go your way and this makes you so alluring. your calm and composed nature is what pulls people in. you are literally the definition of 'thinking out of the box'.

you know what is so beautiful about your reading, pile 2? the queen of swords and the queen of wands popped out together when i was shuffling the cards. do i even need to say anything at this point? like oh my god your energy is beautiful. i will never shut up about the vibes you give off, pile 2. you are someone who strives for honesty and clarity. you know when someone is lying and i'm seeing that people might even get a little intimidated by you. you are also someone who is direct and straightforward and you expect the people around you to be the same. you won't hesitate to call out people for their bullshit (sorry for cursing but i just had to say it!). i wouldn't say you’re confrontational, but you aren't scared of asking someone why they did what they did. oof, what a powerful energy. your independence and your confidence is what makes you alluring. you don't depend on others. i'm also seeing that you gain a lot of attention when you go out and that is because of the badass energy you radiate. you are also someone who is outgoing and you are not the type to settle for less. i know i said this a lot before but pile 2, please share your secrets with me. i literally wanna be you because your energy is just 🤌✨

٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ pile 3

4 of cups, queen of wands, 2 of wands, 2 of cups, ace of swords

my lovely pile 3, the 4 of cups and the queen of wands fell out together and the first energy i could sense here is that you have overcome a very difficult time in your life where you felt stuck and felt like nothing was moving forward for you. and you might have also blamed yourself for this. your angels are asking me to tell you that it wasn't your fault and that you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. the universe slowed down their blessings for you because it wasn't meant to find you at that point. but here's the fascinating thing, regardless of things slowing down for you, you were still hopeful. yes, you kind of felt like it was your fault but you didn't give up, and i am so so proud of you, love. there was a point in time where you isolated yourself and stopped enjoying the simplest pleasures in life. you were afraid, wondering if everything was a lesson. you guarded yourself from going out and making new connections. but then a realisation hit you, how long were you going to stay like this? how long can this go on for? that's when you realised you had to change your ways and your view towards life. it took a lot of effort and a lot of contemplation, but you finally put yourself out there. you finally let yourself free and enjoy the smallest pleasures in life. sometimes you would overdo yourself and feel exhausted because the fear of going back to your old harmful ways scared you. you need to slow down a little, babe. you need to go easy on yourself. overworking yourself is not good. yes you have come a long way and i know you’re afraid, but you need to know that going easy on yourself wont hurt, love. people have noticed your transformation and you might have attracted a lot of attention. because of your past, you might be a little distant and you might not be impressed easily. you are more guarded and alert. you tend not to get distracted easily, and people find this very alluring. i see a lot of people trying to gain your attention and win you over but with the queen of wands, you radiate confidence and self-assurance. people are attracted to your energy and your will to change. you’re brave and strong-minded, but at the same time you are kind and understanding. also, the way you laugh is very alluring. people love it when you laugh. the sound of your laughter is captivating. 

with the 2 of wands and the 2 of cups here, i see that you are someone who is not afraid to come out of your comfort zone anymore. you’re a free bird and you don't want to fall back to your old ways. now, you’re not afraid of trying out new things and your curious and experimental nature is what makes you so alluring. for some of you, im seeing that maybe in the past you might have gotten out of an unhealthy relationship where the person was not letting you move on (4 of cups) and one day, you finally realised that this is not right and you got the confidence to leave and you also evolved as a person (queen of wands) and now that you’re finally free, you’re not afraid to try out new things and you might also be making new connections - platonic as well as romantic (2 of wands and two of cups). i wouldn't be surprised if the people you know will try to shoot their shot with you because i see that many people were literally waiting for you to be single ( this energy applies for some of you who chose this pile). 

with the ace of swords coming out, i see that you like it when someone is being honest with you and you HATE people who play games. you yourself are a very honest person and when anyone asks you for advice or help, you’ll always be truthful and never hold back. i'm also seeing that you are a girl’s girl. if anyone compliments your outfit, you will literally tell them which brand you’re wearing. you don't like to gatekeep things and people love that about you. you’re also someone who is very intelligent and you have a sharp mind. you will cut through any confusion and you have a unique way of thinking. you can separate your emotions and make firm decisions. this ability of yours is what makes you so alluring.

hi loves!! i hope this reading finds you in good health and i hope you are doing well. take care of yourself and i will see you in my next reading. thank you for being here<3

(note: tarot & oracle cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, feelings and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!)

જ⁀➴ all credit for the pictures & dividers goes to their rightful owners and creators.

[ms-demeanor]

You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

[illbegottenfaith]

...and a bruise underneath

you can't help becoming distant as your relationship with theo starts feeling like an open wound (theo nott x reader)

Part 1 | Part 2

a/n - idek what this is anymore 😭 but I will say writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet every five minutes 🙈🙈🤭 this fic may or may not have been inspired by how crap my magnesium intake is :( college resumes in like a week for me and I get very cranky on less than 6 hours of sleep (i am a very light sleeper!!!) chat am I cooked

tropes/warnings - angst, happy ending (yayyy), suggestive but not explicit content, fluff, theo being befuddled, bamboozled, astonished, even; wholesome bickering

word count - 2.2k

taglist (everyone who asked to be tagged for part 2!) - @justaproudperson @pumpkinchee @lorenzozurzolocanruinmylife @smithieandy @augiemyers79

Once Theo returned from his trip, you somehow managed to minimise the little time you spent together, making barely convincing, half-baked excuses whenever you could. Still, he never commented on it. Perhaps he would have if he actually cared. You weren't sure if you were shutting him out to punish him or yourself.

Still, even you couldn't get out of spending time with your boyfriend entirely, which was how the two of you ended up in your dorm on a Thursday afternoon, working through your homework. You were sitting propped up by your numerous cushions, proof-reading an essay while Theo leaned against on the bed posts at the foot of your bed, reading a Potions book to help with his project.

The two of you worked in silence, equally absorbed in your work - or so you assumed until you heard Theo close his book and set it aside. Without warning, he shifted towards you, and before you could flinch or put more distance between you, his arms were encircling your waist and his head was resting on your abdomen.

You froze. This was the closest he had been since before the trip. You weren't sure if you had even hugged him when he returned.

You shoved down the stab of amusement in your gut. Theo was hardly the playful kind, but every once in a while, when your schedules allowed for it, he would be in a good enough mood to fool around with you in a manner that did justice to the expression. The two of you could lose entire afternoons to whispered giggles, frisky hands, and smothering kisses. Even now, your hand twitched with the instinct to comb through his soft, silky curls.

But while you normally found it endearing, today it was irritating, because you were in a fight with him, albeit one-sided.

"What...are you doing?" you asked in a bored monotone.

He shifted his head like he was getting comfortable. "Taking a nap."

You refused to pull your eyes away from your essay when Theo failed to elaborate. "With me?"

Theo sighed, like he thought you were being purposely difficult. "Yes, you."

Too thrown off to keep up the act, you finally looked up, watching the tiny shadows his long eyelashes cast against his face tanned from one too many summer Quidditch practices. "Why?"

He cracked an eye open and smiled lazily at you, half-drowsy. It wasn't fair how seductive his perpetual bedroom eyes typically were, let alone when they were laced with actual exhaustion. Despite yourself, you felt a flicker of satisfaction over being the only one who got to see him like this - uninhibited and free.

The satisfaction didn't last long. Without any warning, Theo plucked your essay out of your hand, casting it aside as he sat up with a teasing glint in his eye.

"Why? Would you prefer I take a nap with Mattheo?"

He was so close, you were sure he could hear your heart racing. Your mouth went dry. Days of subtly dodging his kisses or making excuses to sit away from him had gone down the drain. The thing about Theo's gaze was that it carried an intensity that demanded answers and explanations. Even as your pulse flickered under his relentless stare, you rolled your eyes without any real heat. "No, of course n-"

Theo leaned in, backing you up against your headboard. Your hands clenched in your sheets restlessly, aching to reach out to him. You struggled to focus on the words coming out of his mouth, dizzy with the proximity. "Is this your way of getting me to sleep with my best friend?"

You could feel it - your face was fully scarlet by now. Honestly, how on earth were you meant to come off calm and collected with a face that gave you away at the drop of a hat?

You shivered as he ran a hand up the skin exposed by your top riding up. You finally caved, settling your hands on his collar. "You're a real comedian, you know that?" you muttered, trying and failing to play it cool as your hands slithered into his hair, dragging him closer.

Theo obliged, hovering over you, broad-shouldered, not half the mess you were underneath him. Not yet, at least. "Next you'll be telling me you want to watch, you little perv."

Your lips twisted into a poorly suppressed smile. "It's why you love me."

"Your voyeuristic tendencies?"

You hummed as his lips finally connected to your pulse. As one of his hands started creeping up your ribcage, you were starting to remember why you put up with him. "Exactly."

You didn't hear what he had to say after that, blissfully distracted by the exhilarating feeling of his skin on yours.

"Cara..." Theo sighed, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear.

"Hmm?"

All too frustratingly soon, he pulled his hands away. He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. You fought the overwhelming urge to cry. Moments like these proved that he was soft and pliant underneath that rough exterior. As he leaned back, you tenderly brushed back a lock of hair falling in his eyes. Why couldn’t he love you the way you loved him?

"Do you want to tell me why you've been freezing me out?"

The giddy feeling in your stomach died almost immediately. Maybe he wasn't as oblivious as you had thought. Your teeth dug into your swollen bottom lip. You hadn't expected a confrontation, especially not half-naked, though you were beginning to realise it was an oversight on your part. The direct person that he was, Theo was never one for playing games or beating around the bush. You felt your head start to pound, suddenly feeling far too exposed in more ways than one. You distractedly started rebuttoning your shirt before he stopped you.

"Tesoro..." he prompted softly. You heard the firm message hidden in his tone - no more deflecting. You bit the inside of your cheek, gaze fixed on the strong, slender fingers covering yours. It was the closest you had gotten to holding hands.

You felt the absurd urge to laugh. It was laughable, wasn't it? How tragically ironic the whole thing was? You had liked that Theo was low maintenance, but somewhere along the way you decided that low maintenance wasn't enough for you.

You shook your head, finally accepting defeat. How long did you think you could keep up the charade? How long did you think you could tolerate this misery? Indefinitely? Of course not. As soon as you had watched him step off the carriage, still as fresh-faced and only a little quieter than usual, you had known - you were going to have to tell them, and after one awkward conversation, the two of you would part ways, and he would fade into obscurity over the years, only to be remembered as some guy you had dated when you hadn't known any better.

This was it. The beginning of the end.

"Why didn't you tell me about Katherine?"

You thought saying that would be much harder than it was. But then again, you had nothing to lose - not that you ever had anything to lose.

Theo raised his eyebrows slightly. "Ka-"

"Katherine Sawyer," you hissed. After weeks of avoiding bringing it up, it suddenly felt unbearable, having to wait one moment longer for the answer. "You know, the one you've been cosying up with every other night?"

"I only know one Katherine," Theo started irritably. "Just the one. And I haven't spoken to her since we wrapped up our Transfiguration project before I left for my trip. You remember, the one worth half our grade?"

"...oh." Oh, indeed.

"This isn't like you, Y/N," Theo pressed. "You've never cared about who I talk to. You've always trusted me."

The implication stung. "I don't care who you talk to," you protested. "I still trust you."

And it was true - you had only very briefly, if at all, entertained the idea of Theo having an affair. Even then, it was a notion borne of weeks of exhaustion from catering to your aconite's every little need. But it had been the spark for your brooding resentment.

"I just wish you had told me about her or mentioned her some time. It feels - " Your breath caught. "It felt like you were keeping secrets from me."

Theo's jaw ticked. He let out an exasperated sigh.

"Then why didn't you just ask me?"

You dropped your eyes.

"Dunno. Just...didn't want you to get mad."

His eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

"Didn't want me to get mad?" Theo echoed incredulously. "Honestly, L/N," he said sharply, looking more than a little peeved, "what did you think I was going to do?"

"I don't know," you wailed, closer to tears than ever, "break up with me?"

Theo opened his mouth to respond before closing it again. He furrowed his brow, mouthing indecipherable half-words as if trying very hard to wrap his head around what you were saying. Then, without warning, he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you.

"Right," he finally said, with the air of someone washing their hands of some uselessly challenging task. You could barely focus on his words with the thrill running under your skin. Theo didn't mind being hugged - it was one of the frills he indulged you in - but he wasn't exactly the hugging type. "Next time something's bothering you, I want you to stop what you're doing and come find me."

You twisted your head out of his chest with some difficulty. "What if you're-"

"No - no exceptions," he continued, tightening his hold around you. "No letting it spiral into - whatever this was-"

"So," you interrupted shakily, "you're not breaking up with me?"

Theo glanced down at you, looking like he was going to have a coronary.

"No," he said, with some effort, staring at you like you'd grown a third head. "I'm not." He tilted his head, still squinting at you. "Are you sure you've been growing your aconite properly? It seems like it's been screwing with your head."

"Hey," you scowled, wriggling out of his grasp and giving him a dirty look. "I'll have you know Professor Sprout thinks my mandrakes are -"

But you never got to what Professor Sprout thought about your mandrakes, because you had spotted a familiar teasing glint in Theo's eye.

"About time you started taking it out on me," he laughed, blocking your spirited yet ineffective efforts in shoving him off your bed. You flopped onto your pillows once you gave up, flushed with bedraggled hair. Served you right for dating a 200-pound brute of a guy. "I was starting to think you were going to keep that all bottled up forever."

"Yeah?" you panted, embarrassingly out of breath. "Just you wait. I'm not...finished. It's going to be two more weeks of...of this...once I-"

"- catch your breath, darling?"

You glared at him. Theo could make anything sound salacious while looking perfectly innocent, a trait that was especially inconvenient during some of your shared lessons. You debated giving him the finger, but that would only further amuse him.

Besides, you were feeling very comfortable lying on your mountain of pillows and cushions. You closed your eyes for just a minute. "Dead man walking, Nott," you mumbled, pushing back the hair that had plastered to your forehead.

You opened your eyes when you felt him rest his head on your abdomen once again, his arms coming up around your hips.

"I'm serious about the nap, though," Theo said. "Jet lag is a bitch and Mattheo's going to take the piss out of me if I'm too tired to show up for practice."

You softly carded your fingers through his hair, your fingernails barely grazing his scalp. "Yeah, yeah, sure, you're sleepy. You're always sleepy." You tapped his face insistently as he already looked halfway to dozing off. "You realise that?"

"'M not," he mumbled out the corner of his mouth, relaxing under your touch. "It's the jet lag."

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, you are. All I have to do is get you to stop thinking for two minutes and you'll nod right off, jet-lagged or not. It's because you're always drinking that damn coffee at all hours of the night." Your hair-raking turned somewhat fastidious. "What's your magnesium intake like?"

Theo huffed. "You're so bossy, you know that?"

"Avocado, spinach, almonds, quinoa-"

"I eat plenty o-"

" - less coffee -"

"I like the taste!"

"You could always take decaf."

Theo choked, eyes flying open.

"You take that back."

You eyed him sternly but relented. He couldn't help his Italian roots. "Well, you still need enough magnesium to get a proper night's rest-"

Theo groaned, burying his face into your stomach once again.

"Enough with the magnesium." He sucked in a breath between his teeth, grumbling to himself. "Merlin, I forgot how bothersome you could be."

"It's not my fault you need someone to bully you into taking care of yourself," you retorted.

"Whatever," Theo muttered, and it was something so comfortingly familiar you couldn't hold back a smile.

"Honestly...you and your...fucking magnesium..."

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet [Part 1]

word count: 1767 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: university AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst

warnings: some swearing

It was becoming increasingly harder to ignore the barely hidden stares and whispers surrounding you. You looked up to check if maybe you were just imagining things but the hastily averted eyes and hush of voices solidified your suspicion that you were once again the talk of the town. It happened many times before that you, the chubby foreigner with the mediocre grades but big opinions during seminars, were subject to gossip and after a year of studying in Tokyo, you were somewhat used to it. The gossip died down a few months after your arrival only to spike exponentially when the handsome middle blocker of the varsity volleyball team came up to you one day during lunch and with a disarming smirk that belonged on the pages of scandalous romance novels simply sat down across from you, asking if you enjoyed the miso soup that was hardly touched and by now stone cold on your tray. Oblivious to any kind of possible flirting you just shrugged and went back to your phone when a long finger tapped gently on your knuckles to get your attention. Matsukawa tilted his head a little and asked if you’d like to study with him later in the library and you agreed and it all just developed from there. He did have to spell it out for you that he was interested since you just assumed that he was being nice like most guys you talked to but you quickly came into the dessert-like luxury of being acknowledged as his girlfriend, fingers entwined, him pulling your legs over his lap when you lounged on a bench on the university grounds, talking about anything and nothing for six glorious, sunny months. You were in fact waiting for him right now, keeping your backpack on the seat next to you just in case someone dared to plop down. Giggles and pointing now joined the stares and whispers and frowning a little you pulled out your phone to text your boyfriend how long he’d be.

“Sorry! Sorry. Hey, I said sorry, now shoo~“ Your tall glass of water of a man shuffled through the row of seats a minute later and a little out of breath from running over from another building got comfortable and produced his laptop from his messenger bag. “Thank you, beautiful.”, he panted when you brought the straw of your iced coffee to his lips.

“What’s up?”, he asked when you didn’t lean in as usual for a kiss. Following your gaze he looked around the lecture hall. Some people quickly turned the other way again while others just blatantly continued their gawking.

“What’s going on?”

“No idea but I feel like it has something to do with me.”, you said quietly. Slouching further down in your chair you added, “Maybe some stupid rumor again in the class forum. Like last time when they thought I only have one pair of pants because most of my jeans just have the same cut.”

“Well, better check it out so I can vehemently defend my girl against any and all evil doings that are being evil done.”, he said chivalrously and grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket. But after a bit of typing you saw all color drain from his face. His usually relaxed half hooded eyes widened in shock and he quickly locked the screen.

“Babe.”, you gave a nervous chuckle, “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

You raised a brow. “You do realize that I also have access to that site and can check myself.”

Slowly, very very slowly he handed you his phone and with a few swipes it unlocked.

Sure enough the community forum of your year was open and a set of screenshots from a group chat was pinned to the very top.

You recognized one of the profile pictures. It was Issei’s old one before he changed it to a photo of you and him kissing at a lake.

Your boyfriend meanwhile sat silently next to you, staring at his hands.

Three minutes passed in which the air around became thick with tension.

You swallowed the impossibly large lump that had formed in your throat while you read, then stared ahead at the many other students now obviously waiting for you to react.

But you were not about to give them the satisfaction. You tossed the phone back into your … into Matsukawa’s lap and having no patience to put your things away, just grabbed tablet, notepad, pen and phone awkwardly in one hand, your backpack in the other and got up.

“Please let me out.”, you said calmly.

“Y/n, I-“

“I said, let me out.”

Matsukawa stood up to let you pass, so did the other people in your row. You felt your eyes burn but you willed yourself not to cry or breathe until you left this room.

Stoically, you walked up the few steps towards the double doors when you heard shuffling behind you and a hand grabbed your wrist. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was him.

“Princess, please-“

You yanked yourself free and reached for the handle.

“Mr Matsukawa, Miss L/N.”, the voice of the professor who had finally arrived stopped you in your tracks, “May I remind you that in order to pass my class you need an 80% attendance rate? Especially you, Mr Matsukawa, if you leave now I’m going to have to fail you.”

Grim satisfaction filled your head when you pushed open the door to leave him behind.

He should stay like a good boy. He should have the decency to give you a head start to go to his dorm so you could collect every single thing you ever left there and you began to wonder if you’d need one or two trash bags for all the crap he kept in your room.

But much to your surprise the door behind you didn’t close as quickly as you thought. Familiar footsteps caught up to you.

“Y/n, it’s not what you think.”

Your heart began to sting and twist; the tears, no longer under your control, streamed down your plump cheeks when you spun around.

“Alright.”, you began, letting out a quivering breath to steady your voice, “Tell me. Explain to me why you obviously making a bet with your jerky friends about getting me into bed is not what I think. Oh, and make sure you use small words for the foreigner. Go on. Make me laugh.”

“Gorgeous-“

“Don’t call me that.”

He flinched. He looked small, kneading his hands like that, head ducked between his shoulders and staring at your shoes.

“Y/n…”, he said but then fell silent.

“That’s what I thought. Don’t talk to me. Don’t call me. Don’t come near me ever again.”

You turned on your heel and not caring about the highly entertained grin some passersby threw your way you hurried out of the building.

Issei looked after you for a long while, then he returned to the lecture hall.

You lay on your bed, arm over your eyes and heating pillow on your tummy. Ever since this morning you hadn’t been able to eat anything and were now paying the price for trying to keep down an old milk bread bun you had found squashed at the bottom of your backpack. Without all of Matsukawa’s stuff cluttering your side of the room it felt a lot emptier. All the plushies from the arcade he’d won for you, his spare Pyjamas (kept hidden under your bed) for when your roommate was out of town, a bouquet of flowers, impulsively picked from someone’s front yard that you had pressed and framed, a tattered old jersey from his high school team he left for you as a makeshift pillowcase so you could breathe him in if he couldn’t be with you - all of that was stuffed into a bulging black trash bag by the door. It genuinely surprised you that your phone had stayed silent all day. In the very back of your mind, a small unwelcome part of you had hoped that he’d try to talk to you despite your warnings. That he would try to explain himself and get you back but then again it had all just been a game to him, right?

The rustling of paper had you sit up. A folded note slipped under your door. You got up to investigate. The handwriting, almost illegible chicken scratches, was unmistakable. Fighting the urge to read it, you simply crumpled it up and threw it away, proud of yourself. But when you turned to go back to bed, another note appeared.

It looked identical to the first.

“What the…”, you muttered, and as you balled up this new message you called through the door, “Go away!”

But a third note, the same as the first two, swished towards your feet.

You had enough and pulled the door open.

Crouching before you, a stack of paper in his arms, was Matsukawa, arm outstretched with yet another note, ready to deploy apparently.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I-“

“Didn’t I tell you that I don’t want to see you again?”

“Well…”

“Well what?”

“Technically you didn’t see me. U-until… now.” You glared at him and he quietly added, “Loophole.” in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.

“Are you seriously trying to be cute right now?”

“No! Not at all, I- uhm, did you read the message?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Okay, give me five minutes to explain. Please!”

“What’s there to explain? Your dumb friend offered you a dumb bet and your dumb ass accepted it. With zero hesitation, might I add.”

“Yes, but-“

“Did you get the money?”

“What?”

“You heard me, did you get the money?”

“I… yes.”

“Did you feel guilty for getting the money?”

“Babe- I mean, y/n”, he quickly swerved after seeing you seething with rage at the nickname, “the money didn’t matter! I was hopelessly in love with you the moment you pushed Makki into the pool.”

He shuffled half a step closer to you and took a whole one back again when you frowned.

“That party was in July. We started dating in the spring. So for the first half of our relationship you were just pretending?”

“N-no! That’s not what I - no!”

“Take your shit and get out of my sight!”

“Listen to me, I won’t let you go! You’re the best thing that ever happened to me! I know I don’t deserve you but please don’t leave me! I love you, y/n!”

“Goodbye!”

And after chucking the trash bag into his face you slammed the door shut.

art: I wasn’t able to find out who the OG artist was. If you know, please lemme know and I’ll add

[part 2]

[brattyfics]

Sins of The Flesh II

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), P in V, Spanking Aftermath, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Absolute Filth, Breeding Kink, Oral (Female Receiving)

A/N: Part One should be read first. Divider by fireflygraphics. I'm kind of embarrassed, but not really because y'all are nasty too.

“I want grits with a salmon croquette and chicken sausage. Can you get me a strawberry lemonade too? Their lemonade is amazing.”

Riley lay on her stomach in bed, facing Terry, who was propped up against the headboard, cell phone in hand. He rubbed between her shoulder blades, his touch gentle and soothing as he dialed up the brunch restaurant. Freshly bathed and wrapped up in one of his Marines T-shirts, she felt almost like she was floating. Having Terry there, being so attentive and caring, was exactly what she needed after their time apart.

“You want a side of bacon, too?” he asked, eyeing her with a raised brow. He knew her too well—she always said no, but then asked for some of his when the food arrived. “No, I don't need that much. Just a little bit.” She pinched her fingers together, mimicking a tiny portion.

“I’ll just have some of yours. You’ll share, right, baby?” She reached over lazily to rub his forearm, her fingers caressing the scar above his wrist. His expression softened as he gazed into her sweet brown eyes. She was so mesmerizing without even trying.

“Of course. Whatever you want,” he said, placing the order without the bacon but adding on an order of beignets. They were her guilty pleasure and he enjoyed tasting the powdered sugar that lingered on her lips afterward.

He tossed his phone aside after learning the total. “It’ll be here in an hour.”

“An hour?” she sighed deeply, “I’m going to starve by then.” After church hunger hit differently, and his spanking had drained her energy even more. She needed a nap and a big hearty meal to recover.

“You’ll be a’ight,” he grinned, shaking his head slightly as he laughed. "As soon as you take that first bite, you'll be saying it was worth the wait." Riley erupted into laughter, surprised at how predictable she really was. “Quit acting like you got me all figured out,” she giggled, tracing the lines of his palms with her fingers. “Today could be different, you never know.”

“You say that every week, babe.”

“I could change my mind,” she insisted, coming up with all kinds of scenarios—like missing chicken sausage or a plain lemonade that would throw her whole day off. The beignets could arrive soggy or without enough powdered sugar.

"You just talkin' to be talkin', huh?" He cut her off, tickling her sides until she was shrieking and wiggling away from him. She swatted at his hands, enjoying the lightness of the moment and teasing him back, “You know you love when I run my mouth.”

“You got a gift for keeping things interesting, that’s for sure.” He admitted, gaze drawn to her backside as her legs kicked up playfully behind her. The moments when it felt like it was just the two of them in the entire world with nothing else to worry about were her favorite.

“See? I knew you liked all this mouth.”

“Yeah, but that mouth is what keeps getting you into trouble, too.” He reminded her with a gentle kiss, his hands sliding down to her waist. Riley smiled up at him, bright and beautiful, and he knew he couldn’t deny her anything. Her parents had spoiled their only child, and Terry nurtured that spirit, indulging her in every way. She’d run all over him if he let her, which is why their little “checks and balances” system was necessary.

"Let me see what we’re working with," He tugged her closer by her arms, brushing off her protests as he lifted the oversized T-shirt to her waist, eager to examine his handiwork. She’d soaked in an oatmeal bath for half an hour, but her butt was still welted, bearing the marks of his handprints.

"Damn, baby, I really did a number on you."

Riley propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm fine," she assured him softly. "I needed it." The release had allowed her to shed the tension that had built up over the past week, though her body was still aching.

“Let me go ahead and put some cream on that for you,” he insisted.

Earlier, she'd brushed off his offer, insisting it hurt too much and that waiting until after her bath would be best. She groaned, realizing she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Terry was all about that aftercare—always checking to make sure she was genuinely okay. He reached into the bedside drawer, pulled out the tube of homemade cream—a mix of shea butter and aloe vera gel—and then settled in behind her.

He knelt on his haunches, positioned between her legs while she buried her face in the sheets. She heard the cap pop open, followed by the sound of his hands rubbing together to warm the cream.

She hissed as he began to work magic, his touch gentle but precise.

Her eyes were tightly shut, but she could easily picture his arms flexing as he kneaded her skin. He was as skilled as any professional massage therapist. She never questioned where he’d learned that skill or how he’d perfected it. She preferred to remain ignorant. The thought of him using those hands on other women, touching them the same way, drove her up the wall.

That primal instinct constantly gnawed at her, igniting an ugly possessiveness she couldn’t rein in.

The last time they went on a dinner date, she was convinced the older woman at the table next to them was intentionally dropping her napkin just to get Terry to keep picking it up. That lady took every opportunity to touch his hands, leaning in way too close for comfort. It didn’t take all that just to say 'thank you'.

Afterward, she told him she never wanted to go back, pretending it was because the tables were too close together. The truth was, she felt too embarrassed to admit she was jealous of someone old enough to be her grandma for no good reason.

Then there were the young women who couldn’t resist trying their luck. The same girls she grew up with at church would ask, “Terry, can you bring my donations in for me? They’re so heavy. Terry, can you carry these cakes in? Terry, will you come out to the car and grab these cans of soda?”

They knew damn well they were dragging their own donations in before he started showing up. So she made it a point to lag behind on Sunday mornings. They wouldn’t be late, but they also wouldn’t arrive early enough for anyone to take advantage.

And don’t get her started on the women at the grocery store; they were the absolute worst!

They’d whisper and watch Terry as he walked through the aisles. He’d bend down and reach for everything Riley pointed out, completely oblivious to their lingering. They clustered around when he loaded up the cart with water. It drove her so crazy that she eventually started ordering her groceries for pickup, insisting he unload them at home.

All that fine was for her eyes only.

Gradually, the burning sting began to subside. What had felt like a raging fire now simmered down to a dull, tender ache. “Feel better?” he asked, kissing the back of her neck. “Mhm,” she hummed lazily, on the verge of falling asleep.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “I'm supposed to look after you. You don’t need to thank me for that.” She had a way of bringing out his softer side, making him feel more tender than he ever planned to be. “You had it coming, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.”

“I told you I’m fine, baby.”

"Doesn't mean I can't kiss it better."

She bit her lip, wishing he would finally grant her the one request she’d been making all day. The waiting felt like a tightrope walk—teetering on the edge of cruel and unusual punishment.

“But I gotta make sure I’ve got all my bases covered first," he said as he helped her onto her hands and knees, applying gentle pressure to her back until she arched.

Slivers of light filtered through the closed blinds, bouncing off her moisturized, glossy skin. He watched, enthralled, as her hips swayed back and forth, fueled by all that pent-up energy. He couldn’t look away from the swollen, soft pink. 

"Yeah, I’mma make it all better with a kiss." He pledged, carefully using both of his hands to part her open before pressing a gentle kiss against her slit. She panted, heart racing as he kissed her pussy the same way he kissed her lips—slow and sensual, taking his sweet time before sliding his tongue in.

He teased her with his words in between.

"You always taste so good."

"I missed this pussy while I was away."

"It's all I could think about."

"Such a sweet girl, baby."

Riley jolted forward, squealing in surprise when the tip of his tongue brushed her sensitive clit. “Don’t move,” He instructed sternly, grabbing hold of the back of her thighs. His tongue lavished her wet pussy as she squirmed; warm, wet, methodical, and engineered to drive her wild. Terry was such a fucking menace.

"Wait a second, baby," She tried to gather herself, groaning and shifting her hips, as if another moment would make his teasing any easier to endure. She bit her lip to stifle her sounds, but he wasn't having that. Terry wrapped his arms under her legs until he had her firmly secured.

"What did I say?" She struggled against his grip but found it was iron-tight. "Don't run from me," He warned like he didn't already have her pinned down and at his mercy.

He took full advantage of her vulnerable position, zeroing in on her puffy clit, sucking, licking, and devouring her like a starved man. She clawed at his hands, but it was useless.

“Oh God!" She gasped, convinced he was one of the devil’s soldiers, sent to torment and steal her soul. Nothing else made sense. She’d never met a man so skilled and deliberate in driving her insane. 

“You good, baby?” She heard the smirk in his voice, certain that this was some new form of torture. The only time she caught a break was when he took a second to breathe, and even then, he was right back at it, pushing her limits all over again. His mouth was even more skilled than his hands, working her over soft and deliberate until she was trembling.

Terry was indeed a fucking menace, but she was his willing prey, moaning that it was too much while pushing her hips back for more. Her essence dripped onto his tongue and down his chin, sweet and sticky like ripe mango.

"I'm gonna come!" She wailed, grinding against his face.

Terry pawed at her butt, a surge of aggression washing over him. It took everything not to spank her ass some more. He stuffed his face where she wanted it, letting her ride his tongue until she creamed all over it.

“Shit!” she screamed, collapsing forward as her hips jerked uncontrollably. 

The sound of his shorts falling to the floor faded into the background as blood rushed to her ears, drowning out everything else. Before she realized it, he flipped her onto her back, placing one pillow under her head and another beneath her back to ease the pressure on her bottom. He lifted her hips, positioning himself to slide between her legs.

The tip of his dick leaked as he stroked it, grunting softly as he tried to mentally prepare for the tight fit. Her pussy was still clenching down on nothing, hungry for something more.

“Come ‘ere,” Riley urged, pulling him down to her lips for a deep kiss and moaning wantonly as she tasted herself. She wrapped her arms and legs tight around Terry’s large frame, grinding down against his hard dick. Her chest felt tight with emotions that were too intense.

I love you to death. You mean everything to me. I need you.

Terry could ask her to do just anything in that moment, and she’d say yes without a second thought. She’d agree to have ten children if that's what he wanted. She wanted a permanent connection, something to bind them together forever—a family of their own.

"You ready for more, pretty girl?"

"I'll take whatever you give me," She promised softly, laser-focused on his big dick as he teased at her entrance. She was fatigued, but finally getting what she had been fantasizing about all week. Deep brown skin, mesmerizing hazel eyes, and a strong, muscular build that could surround her completely.

Her face contorted, brows furrowed and mouth agape as he pushed in. Terry pressed his face into her neck, letting out a soft groan as she ran her fingers soothingly along his back. "I love you," she confessed, unable to contain the emotion any longer as he began to move his hips.

Terry could barely think straight with her squeezing him so tightly, but he managed to work up to a steady rhythm, gently pushing and pulling until he was fully sheathed inside her. Riley gripped his arms for dear life as he occupied every inch of her.

“Can’t believe you thought I was giving this to somebody else,” He let out a loud grunt, thrusting deep. "I already got my hands full with you, baby."

Riley was his own little slice of heaven, perfectly crafted just for him. He never imagined he could love someone so deeply that being apart from her felt like he was missing a limb. As he slipped into her, he remembered how she had accused him of cheating when she was the only thing on his mind. Her sweet magnolia scent and those beautiful brown eyes—she was his master, and she didn’t even realize it.

"Fuck me," She ordered with the urgency of a drill sergeant, grabbing his ass and pushing him deeper. She wanted him buried inside of her. “That feels so good.” She growled out.

“Keep fucking me, just like that.”

"Fuck this tight pussy, Daddy.”

“I missed this dick so fucking much.”

“I’ve been thinking about it everyday.”

She didn’t usually speak that way, but something was taking over her, making the vulgar words spill from her lips effortlessly.

It had taken all his restraint not to give in to her earlier, but it was worth it for this moment. The way her heat molded around him, fitting him perfectly as she clung to him, desperate and wanton.

“You’re being so rough with me, baby!” she exclaimed, though there was no hint of complaint. Terry was manhandling her like a ragdoll, and she loved every second of it. Watching such a disciplined man lose control over her was exhilarating.

Terry tried to restrain his darker urges around her, but she was so beautiful when she cried. It only fueled his hunger, driving him to be even more aggressive. She clawed at his back, yelling out when his balls smacked her tender ass.

“I wanna have your baby, Daddy.” Riley confessed with tears in her eyes. She knew she had to be losing her mind, but she meant every word.

Terry’s hips faltered. “What did you just say?”

“I want to give you a baby. I want us to have a baby together. Can we, please?”

Every conversation they’d had about having children had ultimately come down to the understanding that they needed to be married first before starting a family. The pullout method, however dangerous, had worked for them thus far. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she knew exactly what to say to get what she wanted out of him. "I want to be the one to give you a baby, Daddy. The only one.”

Terry cursed, struggling to keep his composure. His own mind was foggy with love and lust. Her parents would be furious if he got her pregnant before marriage, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. They could go ring shopping tomorrow and then apply for the marriage license right after. It was just paperwork—he already knew how he felt.

“You for real?” He imagined her big and round, pregnant and filled with his child. Relying on him to help her tie her shoes or assemble a crib for their child.

"Yes!" she replied eagerly, her eyes shining with desire.

“You want me to make you a mommy?”

“Yes, I’m ready to have all your babies, Daddy.” Babies? She always had to take it a step further. The bare minimum was never enough for her. She was utterly spoiled, and their children would undoubtedly be the same.

“How am I supposed to turn you down when you ask so sweet?” Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against her neck as he let out a low growl. “If you want my baby, you’re gonna have to be a really good girl and keep that pussy open for me.”

“If you keep giving it to me good, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I’ll cum deep in that creamy pussy and give you a baby.”

She was so wet that everything felt slick, her brown eyes glazed over with desire. He knew he should try to be the responsible one, but all he could think about was filling her womb and giving her the beautiful baby she was begging him for. “Tell me you’re mine,” he says, gripping her neck firmly, leaving her breathless.

“I-," The doorbell rings, and it takes her a few moments to process the sound. Terry doesn’t stop, sweat dripping down his face and onto her skin, mixing with hers. It’s as if he’s in a trance, unable to concentrate on anything but his mission.

“Oh my God,” she cries, pushing at his firm stomach for when he strikes a particularly sensitive spot inside of her. Terry forced her up the bed with each powerful motion of his hips, fucking her harder and deeper than he ever had before.

“Relax. It's probably the food," He crooned, brushing her hands aside. "I’ll get it, but I need to give you my baby first.”

“Oh my God,” She braced herself as the pressure built in her belly. Terry was driving himself deep and hard in her pussy like he had a point to prove. He really wanted that baby. With her eyes closed shut, Riley surrendered, pinching and pulling on her nipples until she was soaking Terry and the sheets beneath them. He held her down, ensuring she couldn’t escape as he flooded her with cum.

“Oh my god,” she repeated incessantly, like a broken record. All of his weight settled on top of her, their foreheads touching. She gazed into his eyes, the realization of what they had just done beginning to sink in. She didn’t have any regrets; she was eager to claim him as hers forever. Excited to nurture a child who represented the best of each of them.

Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that lingered as if he were trying to memorize the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, it was with reluctance, his gaze locked on hers. He couldn’t find any hint of regret in her eyes, and he certainly didn’t have any himself.

"Thank you, Daddy." She cooed, reaching down to stroke her clit. He watched, entranced as their slick oozed out of her. It felt like he was hardwired for it, instinctively wanting to fill her up again and push in deep. “Whatever happens next, I’m gonna take care of you.” He vowed, his warm hand pressing gently on her belly. He silently prayed for a favorable outcome, hoping it would lead to a little baby in the next ten months.

She brushed the sweat from his forehead with the back of her hand. “I know. I love you and trust you completely. I really want us to be a family.”

“We will be,” he said with a conviction that tugged at her heartstrings.

The doorbell rang again.

“The food,” she reminded him, gently pushing him back before they got too caught up in the moment. She needed a moment to catch her breath anyway. The tension between them was smoldering.

He cursed under his breath as he reluctantly pulled away, picking up his shorts from the floor and then his wallet from the dresser. She heard the faint sound of the door alarm as the front door opened, followed by quiet voices conversing while she stared up at the ceiling.

Her heavy eyelids fluttered shut. There was no way she'd be able to go to work in the morning.

Terry eventually shuffled back into the room, holding the tied bag in his large hands like a prized catch. “Come on. Let’s put something else in your belly before you knock out on me.”

Thoughts? Lol 😂

Tagging the people who asked for a second installment:

@sageispunk @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @planetblaque

[awionetka]

𝐥𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

xavier ✩ quality time

To Xavier it matters not what the two of you are up to during your time together, only that you willingly chose to dedicate those precious hours to be in his presence. From household chores split more or less evenly down the middle (with him kept at a reasonable distance from your kitchen) to bookshop dates and shared nap time, the two of you are the kind of couple that managed to blend into each other's lives almost unknowingly. Xavier will always go out of his way to spend all of his free time with you and make sure that you're aware of how his attention is fixed on you thoroughly.

zayne ❅ acts of service

Taking care of you comes naturally to Zayne. He's dedicated and reliable, barely even registering all the little things he does for you daily, simply because he doesn't even consider them "work". When you're reading, he silently brings you a cup of your beloved tea. If you're out of town, he'll drop by to water your plants and feed the cat that's grown quite accustomed to his calm presence. After a long day at work, when you're moody and exhausted, he draws you the loveliest, most considerate bath and gently washes your hair till you're fully relaxed yet again. At this point, it's safe to say that when it comes to acting in a true husband manner, Zayne is definitely holding the number one spot.

rafayel ♤ words of affirmation

Rafayel is exceptionally skilled when it comes to wording himself. Just like anything he does, the remarks and compliments he offers, seemingly so nonchalantly throughout the day, are thoughtful, observant, reflective. Listening to him talk is like witnessing a poem being delivered in real time, except that all of these beautifully crafted sentences are meant solely for your joy and pleasure, nobody else's. He's a sweet talker, always knows how to butter you up just the right amount to keep things fun, fresh and, of course, fluster you to the absolute heavens. And with how well Rafayel knows you, inside and out, his words always strike exactly how he intended them to, kind and genuine, charming and attentive.

sylus ♯ gift giving

It should come as no surprise to those acquainted with Sylus, at least to some extent, that if there is anything in this world that he adores more than you, it is buying you whatever your heart could possibly desire at any given time. He's a wealthy man, that much you know, yet the sheer extent of his riches still manages to catch you off guard whenever he makes a particularly big purchase seemingly without a second thought. If you point it out, perhaps a bit taken aback by his boldness, Sylus only laughs, assuring that it'd take much, much more to drain his wallet than a couple of pretty little things he just cannot seem to stop buying for you. But oh, you are more than welcome to try...

caleb ➢ physical touch

Fingers tightly intertwined and pressed to his lips in a featherlight kiss, a steady hand at the small of your back, a gentle squeeze of your thigh as Caleb and you rest on the couch – with him, it's all easy, natural, comfortable. Ever since you were kids, he was there to keep you company, a warm, comforting presence which stood for shoulders brushing lightly during dinner and tender hugs at train stations. Over the years it changed, becoming more purposeful and brazen in nature, akin to his affections towards you, yet never wavering in the slightest. After all, it's how Caleb expresses his adoration, glued firmly to your side as though it'd kill him to leave.

[sagittariusmarz]

Your next glow up (pac)

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

🌸- I see that your next glow up is going to be exciting for you, I see you changing internally which will affect your environment in the outside. I see you being more outgoing and trying new things/having new experiences, I see something about your physical appearance changing which will get you more attention. I see feeling like you have more energy and feeling happier, I see you being able to problem solve faster and be more decisive, I see you feeling like you have less obstacles and things coming easily toward you. I see you changing things in your house and cleaning more, for some of you I see your skin getting clearer or losing weight. I see you guys changing routine and focusing more on what you need instead of stuff you want which will have a positive impact. I see feeling less stuck or stagnant, I see you reaching your goals easier. I see you being more abundant and not worrying so much about saving, there may be some people who will try to get closer to you so that they can keep tabs on you/a lot of people are going to want to be in your business. Signs- Aries/cancer, Leo in 10th house/ Aquarius in 6th house. Initials- W, F, L, Z, T, K, H

🌊- I see that youre going to meet someone new or be in a phase where you’re meeting slot of new people, I see your love life improving and feeling like you’re getting the treatment you want/deserve. I see that people going to be more generous or more emotional invested in you, I see the kind of people you spend time with will be upgraded like you’ll be spending a lot of time with people that add value to you and your life. I see you traveling more, I see you tapping more into your femininity and looking or appearing to be more graceful/elegant. I see your style is changing or you’re getting new clothes/ a new hairstyle that fits you more, I see that you changing your appearance or being more in your feminine energy will make you more abundant and make people be more generous towards you. Signs- Aquarius/scorpio, Virgo in 1st house/pisces in 8th house. Initials- T, I, X, S, Y, K

🦢- I see that you reaching personal goals that you’ve been working on for a while, I see you staying more to yourself or being more independent. You’ll be ecstatic about finally reaching a goal and you’ll be more to yourself, I see you becoming more physically attractive or more popular and alluring to people. I see something about your physical appearance like your face or the way you do your makeup is changing, some of you may dye your hair which will cause you to get more attention. I see you being more present and not so worried about the future especially after you reach a certain goal, I see that you’ll be spending less time around people with negative and draining energy. I see you having stronger boundaries to protect yourself, I see being more consistent and seeing positive results from it. I see you becoming more knowledgeable and being more logical/ feeling more mature, I see your life being more balanced and calm. Signs- Capricorn/libra, Capricorn in 3rd house/ libra in 10th house. Initials- K, I, F, G, L

Personal readings always available

Divider by @saradika-graphics

[tobesolnelyx]

S3 vampire Shauna🤤please please feed us more!

(Also can I be 💫 anon?)

— drain me! || vampire!shauna shipman headcanons

a/n: hi 💫anon!! i hear you guys and i need her just as badly <3

summary: ancient fucker, who decided to annoy you for another eternity. toxic!shauna. vampire!reader.

warnings: NSFW - content MDNI. mid gore. toxic relationship.

★ — you don't really want to know her real age. the number would scared you, trust me. she basically can't settle down. met few girls, been with them. but everytime, when she turned someone else to a vampire, they would simply run away from her. which is completely reasonable if you ask me. until she came to that shithole, Wiskayok in New Jersey and met you. you, who seemed to be so kind, so painfully human that she started feeling ugly jealousy. she didn't know if she wanted to be you or be with you.

★ — she came up with a diffrent tactic. decided that if previous relationship ended awfully, she'll make everything properly this time. properly in her terms, of course. which meant showing up in your room late at night, feeding on you. one night she simply lost herself. she bit you and make you swallow her own blood. so yeah, next day you were a mess.

★ — shauna, who proritised making you utterly dependent from her. she wanted to control you, keep you close. she pretended that she had no idea, who turned you, and basically decided to play this hero, who shows you how to live with that whole vampire thing now (read: you're fucked)

★ — shauna, who wears flannels everwhere in any weather to not get burned. sometimes uses bandanas on her head, and sunglasses. she says that they make her look cool or smth, but you doubt that.

★ — she feeds on people, saying that they're more nutritious and taste better than animals. you always grimace at that, it's not exactly ethical in your mind, but she stopped caring long time ago. she flirst with mortals only to drag them later to the bedroom and devour them.

★ — shauna, who introduce you to the real pleasure. when she urges you to feed on her for the first time, you're hesistant. is it even...right? but she pulls you on her lap with this ridicoulous strength and speed. you wrap around her, her hands guides yours to touch her pulse point, and you almost drool yourself. you hear soft thumping of her heart, feel tempting body under your fingertips, and you barely register the moment when your fangs are fully out.

★ — shauna, who helps you ride her thigh, while you suck her blood. she's precise, pressing you against her just right. you whine in her skin, smearing blood all over your mouth. she's done this so many times, and still - her hips jerk with each movement of your lips. she's groaning, head thrown back in ecstasy.

★ — she's...sassy. ovedramatic and whiny. mind her, she's been so long on this world that she's bored. but at the same time, she refuses to even acknowledge new technology. mostly gets frustrated with that. "shauna it's..." you start, but she cuts you off with a scoff. "it's total bullshit" she rolls her eyes not even looking at the app you're showing her. "back in time it didn't even exist and everyone were just fine."

★ — bites. bites. bites. obviously, she's a vampire. but she loves biting you just to taste you, your blood, your skin. not exactly to feed on you, but she has this strange desire to feel you on her tongue constantly.

★ — possessive. long story short, she'll either kill or turn into a meal anyone, who will try to flirt with you. good luck with having friends. she'll feed on them anyway. you don't need other people, right? just her.

★ — has a power of manipulaton. she was great at gaslighting before, sure. but now, anytime you try to walk away, cause she's starting to do fucked up shits, she uses that strength. the worst part? you know that this sweet tone of hers means that you're being awfully manipulated , but you stay anyway. you can't just walk away.

"baby," she murmurs cupping your face, making sure you're looking her right in the eyes. her smile seems almost poisonous. "you don't really want to leave me, do you?" she brushes your cheekbones and presses kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"you're mine," she'll tell you later. "you were never not mine," she'll whisper to your ear.

★ — oversensitive. better smell, hearing, eyesight (especially in the darkness. her eyes are glowing deep red). has constant headaches and gets easily overstimulated. seems like she's never got used to being hyperaware of everything. she lays on bed on worst days, sighning dramatically and rambling something about endless suffering.

[anika-ann]

Sweet and Ours, Tonight - S.R.

Type: one-shot, established relationship, domestic... filth

Pairing: Steve Rogers x wife!reader   Word Count: 5,8k

Summary:  You and Steve had a long, long week.

You both deserve a reward. Perhaps an evening with undivided attention to each other... and maybe to end the endless week with a bang.

The thing is, Steve has no idea about what’s awaiting him at home. Yet, you have a feeling he will like it - and he'll be happy to show you.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, praise kink, slight authority kink, soft dom/sub elements (with a tad dominant Steve), a sprinkle of possessiveness, potential blasphemy, lingerie kink, marriage kink (if that's a thing), mention of (tender) hair pulling, mention of semi-public sex if you squint really hard, language, FLOOF

A/N: At the time of Cum Together: Community Revival Extravaganza  hosted by @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420, there were two potential stories on my mind – the soulmate AU one, which I ended up writing, and this one, which fulfils multiple prompts from the list (see the end). The extravaganza is long over – but hopefully, you’ll enjoy 💕

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @saradika; enjoy, but it's smut y'all - read at your own risk and responsibility

Setting the half-full glass of water on the counter, you smiled to yourself as you heard the keys rattle in the lock. The sound meant one of your favourite things in the world: Steve was home.

‘Home’ was your spacious shared apartment near the new upstate Avengers facility, one you and Steve had chosen not because the large complex hadn’t included living quarters, but because you had wanted a place that was truly your own.

On days like this, you were more grateful for that decision than ever. Here, the work and the weight you carried from it could be left at the doorstep, and you could enter a truly safe space, shielded by your love from the outside world. World which could be loud, overwhelming, and at times, evil.

Today, it meant that Steve would try to leave behind the exhaustion and frustration of a week-long conference of the United Nations and adjoined organisations. You, you had left behind the very same sentiments lacing the endless week of extra shifts. Sometimes it felt like the work was never done; be it patching up international relations or patching up the dumbass of the day. Be it dealing with diplomats who barely even listened, let alone acted on their empty promises; or be it repairing damage to human body made by another supposedly human being, battling to keep alive agents who not so rarely held zero regard for their own safety in the process of saving the very world for whose safety Steve was advocating in DC. You wondered where the agents could have possibly got the inspiration for their reckless behaviour – but that was not the kind of thoughts you wanted to entertain tonight, especially since you knew the answer all too well.

Tonight, you wanted to cherish your husband’s company.

You had missed Steve; even when swamped with work, you both took care to stay in contact, confiding one another on as much of your longing for each other’s company as on feeling drained.

You were glad for having had enough wits to plan ahead and be able to come home before him.

It had been no surprise to you that Steve had called you that he was about to arrive home as scheduled, but crankier than planned despite finally leaving the self-contained self-important jerks behind. The relief in his voice had been palpable; and his voice had only grown warmer when he learned you were to already wait for him at home. Your lips had twitched at the guttural sigh he released upon learning, whispering he was really happy to hear that; as were you to hear that he was coming home in one piece, which was unfortunately not a rule.

He loved you, he had said too. So damn much.

You had told him the same, wondering if that was what would leave his lips when he’d see you. Especially since he had no idea what coming his way, should he want it.

The lock barely clicked open and you were already on your way. A rapid carpet-muted staccato of your heels welcomed Steve as he entered, his curiosity clearly piqued in an instant.

He had but a second to take in your appearance – the bloody red pumps, the peek of nude nylons, the beige trench coat reaching just above your knees, your simple but effective hairdo and make-up, dominated by berry-red lipstick – or get his suitcase through the doors and close them. Before he could say as much as hi, you were already cupping his face and kissing him softly, for once not having to stand on your tiptoes too high.

There was a significant part of you which was dangerously close to jumping on him with enough force to slam him against the door and pour all your enthusiasm at seeing him into the kiss. It had taken all your willpower not to do so since your body throbbed with the need – but you didn’t want him to feel ambushed, unsure about his mood. So you revelled in the precious opportunity to touch him, in the feel of the figurative and literal warmth he was radiating, in the taste of his lips you had missed so viscerally; and with the minute mental capacity left, you tried your best to read his reaction.

It would be a shame for your plan and efforts to go to waste; but the last thing you’d want was to push thoroughly exhausted Steve who’d just want some peace into something he’d… be willing but not excited to do.

Your worries were fruitless, however. Steve’s hands came to life immediately, one reaching for your waist, the other to cradle your cheek. His lips responded in kind, even as his smile tasted of surprise. The tension you had got a brief glimpse of melted away from his shoulders, fingertips caressing your skin, nose gently nudging yours as your lips parted, forehead to forehead.

“Hi,” you breathed out contentedly, feeling the tension leaving you as well, warmth spreading through every vein and nerve in your body at Steve’s gentle chuckle instead.

“Hi, love.”

“Welcome home.”

His smile was as nothing short of blinding when he retreated just a bit to look at you and grace you with a shining gaze roaming your face, as if taking in every feature, every line, every arch, every last eyelash for the first time. Your heart thump-thumped in your chest happily as your hands slid to his neck, unable to tear your gaze away from the beautiful image he made.

A man with love.

Your man.

Your husband.

Your extremely handsome husband; every suit, be it a formal wear or his tactical one, accentuated his wide shoulders and sharply cut jaw you couldn’t but run your fingertips over, marvelling at the pure delight in his face.

“I feel very much welcomed, sweetheart,” he assured you, squeezing your waist. Despite being clearly exhausted, his smile was radiant; until it fell a fraction. “Are you going out?”

Your heart hummed with a soft ache; it was impossible to miss his effort not to look disappointed as not to make you feel guilty for having a social life outside your marriage, even if rather inconveniently timed. Bless his good, good heart.

You shook your head with your smile lingering, barely hiding a smirk. “I’m not going anywhere, Mr. Rogers.”

His expression perked up again, his arm sneaking further around your waist as he observed you with playful curiosity. “Oh? Are we going out? Did you plan something, Mrs. Rogers?”

To highlight his indulgence in calling you that – and god knew hearing him say that still sent butterflies to your stomach even after months of that being a reality – his hand moved from your cheek to take you left hand, fingers interlacing; your wedding bands made a soft clinking noise as they met, Steve’s gaze flickering to their combined light with such undiluted joy in that little action you couldn’t but brush your lips over his again, something deep inside you trembling and preening at once.

Your husband.

“Would it be a bad thing? If I did plan something?” you asked, part coy, part genuine. “It’s okay if you’re not in mood for that.”

Steve only smiled wider, dropping a kiss to your knuckles and then your lips, before pulling back just a fraction. He observed you silently and almost absently, yet seemingly with mission-level intent. 

The silence stretched as you awaited his answer, encouraging him – and yourself, because the silence was growing louder with every beat of your heart – with a suddenly unsure smile.

“Steve? Love?”

He blinked, shaking his head lightly. Before you could feel your stomach drop in disappointment at this being his answer, he spoke up.

“Sorry, you… you look beautiful. Got a little distracted here.”

Your belly did a funny flip-flop that had no right to be so deep within; but this gorgeous man had no right to be so perfect either. And you loved him for it.

“I don’t mind going out or staying,” he said softly. “I’m honestly just glad to be home. With you. That’s my favourite thing in the world. Being with you… here, in the home we made together.”

Tremble. Something within you trembled and it was almost comical how those words shook and soothed your soul, a sharp contrast to how very non-poetic your intention to seduce his body was. But that was how you seduced each other the first time and did so over and over again; body, mind and soul alike, tipping the scales in favour of one and then the other and back as the situation allowed.

It was your turn to blink now, fighting the burn of tears in your eyes, threatening to spill at the profound sincerity in Steve’s voice and the adoration in his beautiful blues; they turned all the prettier as a spark of mischief lit them up and he stepped back, releasing you from his warm embrace.

“But, since you got all dolled-up and clearly made plans, it would be a waste. Want to tell me what my orders are, ma’am?”

Excitement lighting up your nerves anew, you stepped back with a hum.

“Well… actually, I made plans to stay in…” Steve’s eyebrow arched a bit, but something beautifully dark flashed in his eyes – a mute understanding that whatever you had planned, you had dolled up for him. For him and him only. “And since you said those people there were all talk, no listening, no action… I thought that maybe you’d a like a change of scenery.”

As you took another step back further into the apartment, Steve discarded his shoes in a lightning speed, his gaze never leaving your face, hanging on your lips for every syllable. 

You bit back a satisfied smile, something hot stirring in your belly. “That maybe, you’d like someone who can listen very well, and is willing to… act? Would you like to tell me my orders, Captain?”

His gaze went to roam – from the top to bottom, drinking in your attire, a perfect trap you had set for both of you to tangle in. The tall red heels. The coat for him to untie. The nylons – which Steve at this point must have understood were, in fact, thigh-highs, perhaps strapped to a garter belt. The hair. That lipstick. That damn lipstick that turned his eyes a shade darker and hungrier, his voice dropping two octaves.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

You raised a challenging brow, a coy smile adorning your red red lips as you toyed with the hem of your coat; Steve knew you well-enough by now to know that you wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble if you hadn’t wanted that. You wanted.

You wanted him, with every fibre of your being, lit alive and reborn divine under his searing hot gaze. You longed to be his, however he pleased. To please him however you could.

At last, he got the message. He seemed to very much revel in that message, in fact.

“Let’s go to the bedroom then.”

He led you by the hand, even though you both knew the way and had walked it many times before, even when blinded by desire, with lips never parting, frantic stumbles and wandering impatient hands. Tonight, there was no rush; steps deliberately slow, you followed his lead, standing still by the doorway when he let go of your hand in favour of stripping his suit jacket as soon as you entered.

Your eyes followed his every move, indulging in the sight of his muscles rippling under the smooth fabric of his white shirt; indulging in the shudder of realization running down his body, coming after his brief confusion of finding you obediently exactly where he had left you.

You barely bit back a smirk at the way his breath hitched.

“Alrighte,” he breathed out as he walked to the foot of the bed, turning his back to it to look at you.

You had never had a man to look at you like that before; his gaze was like the most delicious shockwave igniting every cell in your body with desire and pride.

His. You were your own woman, but goddamn, were you his.

“Alright. Come here, sweetheart.”

You did. Hooked on his burning gaze as he seemed hypnotized by your every step, by every inch erased between you, you walked to him, only stopping when he settled his wide palm over your hip, his other hand soon joining on the other side.

For a moment, he simply observed you, your parted lips, your eyes blown wide, just as aroused by the dynamics as he was. Then, a warm yet mischievous smile lifted the corners of his lips, hands squeezing your hips.

You weren’t sure what you had expected – a kiss, a toss on the bed, his hands ripping the fabric, all things you had encountered and more – but of all options, he chose the one your mind had not offered at the moment. His hands slid lower, inch by inch as he kneeled in front of you, sitting back on his heels, the heat of his skin seeping into yours the second his palms slipped past the edge of the fabric of your coat.

Sensual. Steve was most definitely in mood for sensual tonight and you were not going to complain if for nothing else than for having trouble breathing as his fingertips traced the thin ankle strap of your shoe, warm fingers delicately circling your ankle, cupping your calf, sneaking past your knee to spread over the back of your thigh, inching your legs apart so he could move the coat out of the way and press a lingering kiss to your where the lace of your thigh-high met bare skin of your inner thigh.

Your breath hitched in your throat when his free hand reached for the loose knot on your coat, dextrous fingers undoing it with ease and tugging, all while his lips brushed over your sensitive skin higher and higher towards the apex of your thigh.

“Take it off, love,” he whispered into your heat, tugging at the hem of your coat, the index finger of his other hand slipping under the strap of your garter belt, nosing along your inner thigh and inhaling deeply.

A shudder ran down your spine at the huskiness of his voice, leaving you with no space to even consider embarrassment at your husband’s need to drown himself in the scent of your arousal; you busied yourself with stripping the coat in five seconds flat and dropping it on the floor, rewarded by his warm breathy chuckle.

“So good for me…” He looked up from his spot, caressing along the line of your panties, feasting his eyes on the delicate lace hugging your breasts, at the elaborate but feather-light pattern on your garter belt, at the barely-there panties covering your sex. The smoulder in his pupils as his gaze zeroed on his price was almost too much to bear. Whether you were shy or impatient, you couldn’t tell, but your chest was heaving with every breath, your back arching just a bit at the praise that stroked something deep within you. “My beautiful, irresistible wife…”

“Steve-“

He returned his attention to your thigh, sucking a lovebite just above the hem of your stocking, soothing the offended spot with a butterfly-soft kiss you couldn’t help but sigh his name at again.

He hooked his fingers at the front straps of your garter, urging you forward, closer, as he sat on the floor, back leaning against the foot of the bed, tilting his head back and resting in on the mattress; a content smile played on his lips as if it was the most comfortable spot in the apartment, his hands roaming appreciatively. Over the curve of your hip. Following the pattern of the lace. Along the straps, along the hem. But never, never where your need for him burned, soaking the excuse of underwear over your sex.

“Didn’t have such pretty view in D.C.,” he mused, gaze trailing over the thin fabric already shining with your arousal, trailing all over your body to your face, to your red lips painted just as you knew he loved them. “Never ceases to amaze me. Like a piece of art. So damn perfect… mine to touch.”

You didn’t have timefor body insecurities with Steve. Any imperfection you saw, it didn’t bother him; he’d kiss you everywhere, claiming and loving every piece of your body and soul and mind, as he hadn’t forgotten to mention when he proposed; and then followed up with proving the first part of his claim with intense but the softest damn loving.

The memory of him getting on one knee with a glimmer of tears in his eyes quickly dispersed when his maddeningly delicate touch finally brushed over your slit, your hips instinctively bucking forward; Steve instantly used the opportunity to spread his palms under your bottom, urging you closer and closer until the front of your thighs met the mattress, effectively caging him in, mouth not more than an inch from your mound. He smiled up at you wickedly, forefinger drawing nonsensical patterns over your clothed sex.

“Steve, love-“

You lost your voice when he guided your knee to prop on the mattress next to his head, a violent tug of desire gripping at your core at the implication of what he wanted – stirring as much want as insecurity and hesitance.

You voice was shaky as your gaze found his, the question on your lips so quiet he might miss it hadn’t it been for his enhanced hearing.

“Steve, are you… sure?”

One glance into his eyes told you was more than that.

And the mere thought of him doing what he was leading you towards felt like molten lava poured into your veins, nothing but smouldering heat left behind.

You had never done that. Not with him, not with anyone else.

It was true that Steve could get rather intense when it came to love making – or shameless fucking – but he always drew significant amount of his pleasure from your own. Your husband was but a giver, even as he always coaxed you to give it to him. He had sure been far from shy or prudish in the privacy of your quarters – or in certain cases no one must ever learn about, elsewhere – and he enjoyed all kinds of things, his mouth on you among them. You had explored together, dived into depths of pleasure you hadn’t thought were possible. But you hadn’t---not like this.

Not with you basically on top of his goddamn face.

“Are you?” he asked, pressing a brief kiss to the juncture of your thighs, looking at you from under his eyelashes with a challenge and a plea.

In your exploration, he had pushed your limits; but never you. He’d never do anything that seemed even tad too uncomfortable for you. As of consequence, there was virtually nothing you wouldn’t let him do, because you trusted him to stop at the first sign of your protest.

Okay. Okay. The utter wanton in his eyes shining through the sincerity was melting your brain. No choice to make.

You nodded, rewarded by a satisfied smirk that would have earned anyone else a smack to their face. But with Steve, there was something dangerously alluring about that instead; that smirk meant paradise aligning with hell awaiting you, whispered of you soon begging him – to stop or to continue, you’d never quite know yourself.

“Well then, remember you promised to listen… and do.”

Little shit, was as far as you got in your thoughts.

Because then he was wrapping a firm arm around your leg on the bed and pushing your panties aside and after a few teasingly careful licks, he began his feast like a starved man seated at the royal table.

Your hands found purchase on his hair and the bed, knees nearly buckling under the assault of pleasure, burning through your body like a wildfire. The way his wicked tongue played with you had you gasping his name in need bordering on desperation, chest tight as you were forgetting to breathe, core clenching so soon you couldn’t quite believe it as the tidal wave of bliss washed over you, hips rocking in aftershocks, knees eventually giving out.

It was only for a split second that you worried you might smother Steve or splatter ungracefully on the floor; because Steve had you. He always had you. His supersoldier part undeniable, he caught you, manipulating your body so he could cradle you protectively as you came from your high and literal height, holding you against his chest as you straddled him with seemingly boneless legs.

You were hyperaware of every bit of praise spilling from your lips, whispered to your skin warmly, but you couldn’t form words.

Not until his lips found yours, meeting in a soft kiss spiced with the tang of your essence, the most intimate kiss between lovers. He pushed the hair from your face tenderly, eyes both hungry and soft as if you weren’t soaking his dress pants where your core met his evident arousal and you weren’t both panting as if you had just run a marathon. His hand caressed up and down your spine, over and over, as if to ground you in reality.

A peck to your cheek. To your mouth. Your lips coming back to life at least, pressing to his jaw, to his smile.

“Could stay like this forever,” he whispered, nose trailing along your cheek, leaving a kiss under your ear, drawing a breathless chuckle from you. “With you in my arms, your taste on my lips, head swimming from your sweet perfume and everything that’s you… my wonderful wife… “

Blinking owlishly, you met his gaze as he cradled your cheek, hair a beautiful messy hallo from where you had tried to hold on when he was devouring you. His lips found yours again, a gentle murmur.

“You’re my everything, you know that?”

You did. By god you did. It was impossible not to, even as that fact was but a pure stroke of a miracle. He was your everything too. Your alfa and your omega. Your weakness and your strength. Your love, unshakable foundation even on days when everything including his own hands did shake. Your home, whenever you’d go.

You ran your fingers through his golden locks, expression nothing short of tender, touch nothing short of reverent – as one should be when in face of a miracle.

“And you’re my home,” you whispered back.

Seconds ticked by in soft silence, pleasure still tingling all over your body, but it was the overwhelming love and need in Steve’s gaze that consumed you completely.  

You didn’t dare to blink. You didn’t dare to breathe. You simply watched him living through a moment as precious to him as he was to you, electric tension rising and almost audibly crackling in the air.

And then he was gripping your nape, mouth claiming and devouring, one hand sliding under your bottom to lift you in a display of strength that never failed to make you dizzy and blinded you with desire unmatched despite having just come down from your high. You returned his kiss with the same fervour, hands grasping at his shirt, frantically searching for buttons to undo and then simply tugging hard until the thread gave out and sent the buttons flying, a nip of teeth to your lips accompanied with Steve’s dark chuckle like the sweetest song of victory.

He sat down at the bed with you still straddling him, helping you strip the shirt without your lips ever parting, his hands leaving you but for the fraction of second necessary to get rid of the fabric in your way and then you were both sighing in relief when your palms met the burning skin of his sculptured chest, his wide shoulders, his clenching abs.

“Need you,” you confessed as soon as you got to breathe in, back at his lips the very next second, Steve’s large palm kneading your bottom, hips thrusting into yours and eliciting a wanton moan from you both. “And I want you in my mouth-“

A delicious growl rumbled in is chest, fingers tangled in your hair pulling just a little, tipping your head back to give him access to leave a string of kisses down the column of your throat, the deliberately slow bucks of his hips into yours never ceasing.

“You’re a wicked little thing.”

You chuckled, a cheeky remark on your painfully free lips, the delightful friction between your bodies not nearly enough to sooth your thirst.

“You do say I’m wicked smart. Why this time?”

The nip of teeth on your collarbone and the way his fingers dug into your flesh had you barely stifle a gasp, but his answer was a reward for a work well-done.

“Goddamn you, woman, you know what you do to me, especially that lipstick-”

“I know what it does to you to see it smeared in certain places,” you breathed out, silenced by a bruising kiss to your lips and a light sting on the back of your thigh as Steve pulled at one of the strings of your garter and let it snap against your skin. Your wandering hands reached for his belt, almost tasting the salty tang of him already as you’d get on your knees for him.

“Wicked,” he grunted against your mouth, lifting his hips – with you still on top – to help you strip his pants, “I thought I was giving the orders tonight.”

“Oh you do, Captain,” you assured him, revelling a little too much at the twitch against your core as you blatantly used his title against him. “Just informing you I’m willing.”

“Driving me crazy. Want you to want me just as much, to need me-“

“I do. Need to taste you-”

“Jesus Christ-“ he choked out, releasing you so you could press one last thorough kiss to his mouth and then slide down to your knees, grateful for the soft carpet.

Ridding Steve of the last piece of clothing, you took great care to maintain eye-contact as you stroked him, feather-light, and licked at the tip. The breathy sound resembling your name that left his lips when you wrapped your lips around the head sent a jolt of heat down your spine, hot satisfaction pooling in your belly and making your heart thunder in your chest.

Nothing had ever made you feel more powerful and treasured than Steve looking at you with half-lidded eyes, groaning as you took him deeper and bobbed your head, closing your lips tight around him as you pulled back to smear as much of the sinful red colour down his cock, his hands gripping the sheets so hard the fabric might tear.

God, he was gorgeous; a wrecked angel-like figure made for worship and sin, they only deity you needed, sculpted to divine perfection.

His fingers tangled gently at your hair, only to twitch repeatedly as he was holding back the strength he wanted to use keep you right there, always making you want to swallow around him harder to make him lose that control; the curses, the deliciously prolonged fuuuck tasting like a victory, the fuck-- sweetheart, you feel like heaven a blessing that stirred pure lust deep within your core.

He was done for almost too soon; a little work, a hint of a sinful smile in the corner of your lips as you watched him lose layer after layer of control to reveal the primal drive that made him just as human as any. Once your hands joining your efforts, he was spilling down your throat, eyes squeezed shut in an image of absolute heavenly ruin.

You waited for him to flutter his eyes open; not having even gone soft in your mouth, you dragged your lips down his length to leave the last red and glossy mark, the string of blasphemy leaving his mouth telling you he didn’t give a damn thing about your tear-smeared mascara but cared a whole lot about the prettily ruined lipstick. When you licked your lips as if he had just given you your favourite treat, he practically dragged you back to his lap, seemingly torn between proposing all over again and lamenting you were going to be his death.

Yet, he kissed you tenderly like a precious porcelain doll and reached for the wet wipe in the nightstand drawer to gently clean the black smears down your cheek. The smudged lipstick he indulgently wiped with his thumb before his mouth slanted over yours again, the thrumming passion between you growing louder again; you were dripping down your thighs from the appreciative gaze and the taste of him alone and Steve was rarely ever sated with climaxing just once. Especially after a week apart.

With his most acute hunger sated, however, he took time to admire the view again, even with your shoes finally discarded, indulging in the delicate lace instead, in the warmth of your body, in your perfume and the scent of your skin. His voice dropped low in volume, intimate whispers of how he wanted to see you take him deep and make you his, fingers gently stretching you to accommodate his impressive size before he led you to sink down on his length at last, filling you up so deliciously and completely.

With bodies stilled, the time seemed to slow down too. Eyes blown wide and dark, but with a sweet curl to your lips as you tasted each other over and over again, you both revelled in the sensation of being connected; brushes of fingertips, kisses to your lips, to your neck, to your sternum and breasts; to his chest, to his shoulders, to his kiss-swollen lips, wherever you could reach.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” he confessed between encounters of lips, the softest voice with a husky aftertaste. “Missed this. Never going to another conference again.”

You almost chuckled at the unrealistic prospect, touched all the same.

“Missed you more… might go to a conference every once in a while. For science.”

Steve grunted in protest, palms framing your face as he observed with a slightly amused pout to his kiss-swollen lips.

“Hm. Sounds like your argument contradicts your hypothesis there, Doc.”

This time, you did chuckle a bit, raising an eyebrow even as you caressed his cheek, index finger tapping the pouty lower lip. “Well sue me, I’m a little dazed. I’m allowed. I finally have you for myself after a week, Steve.”

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to the pad of your finger, something devilish flashing in his eyes.

“That you do. I’m all yours. My smart, beautiful wife…” he coaxed with a kiss, hand landing lightly on your waist, hips thrusting up to encourage you to roll yours. There was no need to do so twice. You rocked your pelvis, jaw falling slack at the delightful sensation. A single movement and pleasure was spreading to every nerve ending, coil in your belly forming; Steve responded in kind, urging you on to keep going and set a pace.

“So good to me, sweetheart… so precious.”

“That’s it. So damn gorgeous like that--- look at me, love.”

“Making me feel so good… love having you like this. Never gonna get enough of this, of you…”

Golden. You felt so damn golden under his touch, from inside out, caressed with every single appreciative word spilling from his lips so naturally.

God, you had needed that. You needed that more than you had realized, having pushed down all the unpleasant interactions that had piled up during the week, interactions that made you feel everything but good, precious, brilliant or gorgeous. With every word, Steve poured his faith and love into the cracks in your being and healed them, silencing every doubt, grounding you so profoundly in the pleasure you shared that every single cell in your body ignited with something divine. The coil in your belly was strung so tight you almost felt yourself falling, if you’d only--- if he’d-

“Steve, please, I need-“

“I know what you need, love. I’ve got you.”

Your climax erupted through your body with Steve’s mouth wrapped around your nipple, his dextrous fingers digging into your ass and playing with your clit.

He found his release as he kneeled behind you and caged you to his front, one hand around your throat to angle your head for a sloppy kiss, the other spread wide over your lower belly, sneaky fingertips having coaxed another Earth-shattering orgasm from you.

Somewhere along the way, your lacy attire had ended up in shreds where Steve pulled a little too hard; the remnants of garter belt and stockings were carefully stripped by Steve’s tender fingers as he cleaned you up with a warm cloth before covering you with several kisses and only then with the comforter.

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to his side and simply holding you as close as humanly possible, living and revelling in the moment just until his stomach growled.

After a semi-serious joke about taking you as a dessert for the second time, you lazily ordered take-out for three since you had worked up an appetite, moving to the couch. A movie in the background, Steve shared some of the highlights and escapades of the past few days from the conference and DC – as much as he could anyway. In return, you shared your own – as much as you could anyway. When in each other’s embrace, the trouble seemed far away; and what had felt like a path to the next Armageddon suddenly appeared considerably more manageable.

You were practically asleep, half-sprawled over Steve’s chest, when he pressed another kiss to your scalp, this time lingering.

“I love you… and thank you. That truly was a nice welcome home,” he said, bringing a ghost of a tired smile to your lips.

“It’s our home, Steve… You should always feel welcome. Loved.”

“And I do. Coming home to you is the most precious thing,” he mused, caressing your hair when you snuggled impossibly closer to him, inhaling the comforting scent of all that was him. “But you walking the extra mile… that truly makes me the luckiest guy in the universe.”

You hummed, his words warming you more thoroughly than his body and the blanket combined. You pressed a kiss to his sternum over his sleepshirt.

“And I’m the luckiest woman. I love you, Steeeve… I’m sorry-”

His chest shook under your cheek softly as your confession turned into a yawn, but he took it as a sign. He half-carried you to the bathroom and carried you entirely by the time you were done with your nighttime routine.

You murmured another love you, sleep well as you laid your head on the pillow, cradled in Steve’s protective embrace, his words reaching your ears from a terrible, terrible distance, but tasted just as sweet as ever.

“I will, love. I most definitely will.”

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Aren't they just sweet? 🥺 Happy belated birthday, Stevie 💕 I hope you enjoyed - feedback is always welcomed💕

Prompts, as promised:

Pouncing on your partner as soon as they arrive home from a trip away

“My favourite thing in the world is being here with you.”

Kinks: praise, soft!dom, oral

Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go bath in holy water and pray to my muse that she'll let me write longfic too 🤭

[lasirenatarot]

What you need to hear right now.

/general messages, timeless/

🌟PAC READING🌟

Pick a perfume:

NOTE: some messages are quite specific, but might help someone who needs to hear them❤️ so keep that in mind, not everything will resonate for all, it is a general reading after all.

Pile 1:

Poison girl.

Cards that fell; 3 of pentacles, ace of pentacles, 4 of wands reversed. Gift, pleasure seekers cards from an oracle deck.

- I think you might loose a sum of money or you recently have lost some, another case may be that your financial situation might have not been the best recently and you kind of felt helpless? (Idk why im getting that). However, your financial situation has a huge potential for improvement as you may get a present (either an item or a sum of money from someone) which may ease your financial worries. This present may even help you enjoy your life more as you will not have the « weight » of worrying about the near future and how you’re gonna make ends meet.

- Another possible scenario instead of getting a gift may be getting a higher salary than anticipated which can help you make up for the recent times of struggle.

- be focused on whatever you are working on ( studies, job, sports etc.. ) DO NOT loose your focus, this may make you miss a big opportunity if you are not consistent. AND the opposite: if you continue on working, being consistent and putting in the effort you may receive better things/opportunities than you have even imagined. It all depends on you.

- for those who have recently met or have started having hopes of starting a relationship with a romantic interest: this person may not have the intetions of being in a serious relationship with you at this point of time. Be careful and seek your OWN best interest, not theirs.

Pile 2:

Baccarat rouge.

Cards: 10wands, 8wands, 5 wands reversed, judgement reversed.

- Sadly for this pile we are starting a bit negatively; you may have recently experienced a burnout or you are quite overworked due to having too much different stuff to do and take care of. What you need to know at this moment is that not everything is your responsibility: people’s actions, their poor life choices or how they live their life. You might be a person who (not exactly likes, but more of feels the need to help others at the expense of your own mental well being/emotions/mood even. You may simply just be used of being the “problem solver” & emotional trashbin for others) likes helping others, always be there for them and listen when they have struggles, but what you may not see is that by always being there for others u may create in them what I’ve read psychologists call “learned incompetence”. Basically by doing a task for someone (that was not yours to begin with) and letting them vent nonstop u’ve made them incompetent to deal with their own issues bc they may think you will always be there to fix it for them. Main message for this pile; prioritise yourself even if this means cutting ppl off because they drain you emotionally, not every person deserves explanation for how you decide to react to their behavior. Don’t be part of confrontations.

Extra message: beware of people who try to play “saints” in your life, such who have victim complex and always have a problem with everyone.

Everyone gets what they deserve in the end.

- After a tough emotional period your situation may quickly turn to positive and joyful. You may meet new friends.

Good luck🙏🏻

Pile 3:

Lost cherry.

- Very soon you might receive news you’ve been waiting for a long time. May be in a form of email/letter or a friend telling you. You may have felt like you’ve “lost yourself” a bit recently and after receiving these news you will definitely feel more at peace. Some may have been thru a breakup recently, you may finally start feeling better and more like yourself.

- you may meet a potential love interest soon or if you already have someone concrete in mind you communicate with (don’t be delulu having random crushes) you may actually begin a romantic relationship with them ( the energy I get is quite positive).

- you may need to follow “tradition” or already tried methods or consulting with a wise person if you need help with someting. (Or simply a tip)

Pile 4:

Hypnotic poison.

- You may reunite with an old friend soon. (Im particularly getting one you may know from school, but may not applicable for all)

- You may end or will end soon a chapter of your life in order to make space for better things to come.

- You may find understanding/help from someone you have not expected, while at the same time be dissapointed of someone you had trust in and expected to be there for you.

- No matter the circumstances try not to be too cocky and egoistical. You may currently be very motivated for success and have recently gained a lot of confidence due to something in your life. Keep yourself grounded and do not forget where you come from.

That was all from today’s PAC. I apologise for not including the name of the cards which fell for all the piles but I accidentally put them back in the deck and forgot to write them lol..Hope you enjoyed it tho!!

Photos are from pinterest; all credits to their respective owners.

Leave a comment/feedback if it resonated, share and follow for more.

- La Sirena💋

[lua-stellar]

What Will This July Bring You??✨ Tea Leaf Reading 🍵

Reading done with Tea Leaves 🍵 Predictions for what will come your way this July (2024) *images included

tip me on ko-fi if you liked this reading :3

pile 1

in the first week or first couple of weeks of july you will experience some kind of event or celebration and i see that during this you'll experience an extremely lucky coincidence, i feel like this is love related somehow and this event can help you possibly become closer with someone? I see a giraffe thats touching the inner rim venus symbol and the glass but also what i think looks like a lamp, thats also touching the venus symbol going into the sunrise symbol. A lamp and a sunrise, i feel like fortells a new beginning with your path enlightened regarding romance somehow whether its with someone you like now or someone you meet at this event possibly? Like i feel like whatever it is your path will metaphorically be enlightened and you will have luck on your side regarding this future event and possibly shooting your shot with someone romantically? Like i'm getting a vibe of you putting yourself out there romantically this july and within the first two weeks is my prediction based off the placement of the symbols on the cup. The lamp also kind of looks like the rune Algiz which kind of affirms my interpretation of the lamp in the sense that you will have luck on your side and be sort of protected in a way when doing something risky like making a move on someone romantically. Like if i had to make a comparison it'd be the ten of hearts card in cartomancy, you will have nothing to worry about because things will go your way and you can let yourself be confident in what you do basically. Further into the month like closer to the end of the month i see like a little unicorn, or a pony. I initially thought it was a unicorn, but it i get the vibe that you are someone who maybe limits themselves a little and feel like you underestimate yourself. Basically late july you will be able to accomplish alot of things that you have always wanted to accomplish, and you will be able to open your roads and make all sorts of things possible even things you didn't think could even be possible for you. Good things are definently coming your way this july, wishes being granted, manifestations etc etc. I also see a rabbit in the distant future same area as the little unicorn and i think that means things will be increasing for you, increased ideas increased creativity, you will be coming up with new ideas and increased growth in different aspects of your life. I also see a little candle as well which is just more metaphorically your path being enlightened and things working in your favour, you can pursue whatever it is you want without worrying because again things will be going good and everything will work out for you. In your little tea plate, which i use to drain the water, it typically represents like the drama or overall energy of the reading,, i initially saw like two people in the middle of the plate like holding hands perhaps, or embracing, just connecting somehow. It kind of looks like one is a little kid and the other person is some kind of animal like a dog maybe, I feel like you will make a new connection this july with someone. And for this upcoming month there is alot of energy of growth and things like growing, improving, etc etc.

pile 2

i feel as though within maybe the first or again second week of july, you will be reaching out to people and connecting with others being sociable, and i feel like a new romance will blossom. A summer fling if you will. I don't know why i keep getting romance related messages but i see a heart on the mercury symbol, through reaching out to people and communicating and whatnot a new romance will blossom in your life, and its sort of like a slow burn romance because there is a tortoise right next to the heart. This romance will move slowly but the tortoise is a good omen that things will last and you will be successful through patience, and possibly getting to know this person. There is also alot of like loose little tea leaf dots like freckles that are kind of surrounding mercury in general like i feel like there is alot of energy in that aspect of your life in this coming july you will be reaching out to people, communicating getting out of your comfort zone possibly, etc etc. This outgoingness type of energy attracts a new romance into your life. In distant july like more closer to the end perhaps i see a rabbit a really big one on the bottom of your cup and i think it signifies alot of growth and new things happening new opportunities springing up new ideas etc, I also see a giraffe which i feel means you will experience good luck when doing things kind of risky or out of your comfort zone, you may experience happy coincidences and things working out for you very well, I also see like a little puppy like one of those white fluffy puppies, the kind you'd see on a rich lady's purse, idk. I feel like this could represent someone like a friend or a partner, someone who is friendly, it could also represent literally 'puppy love'. On your tea plate, which I read to represent the drama occuring in your life and the overall energy of the reading and overall energy of this upcoming july in general. There is a lighthouse right on the plate which shows to me that maybe you are someone who people will look up to, maybe you will be in a position of authority, perhaps in a summer job and whatnot. But also I see like a dinosaur right on Pisces and Aries, on the rim of the plate. It's completely covering the pisces symbol actually. I feel like maybe this fortells you living in the past a little bit during this month and refusing to change certain things, because its covering up pisces completely i'm inclined to believe you may have trouble during july regarding change that threatens your inner world you may be more outgoing this summer however during this time i'm picking up on the energy that you are not someone who enjoys the spotlight for long and shies away from it eventually, and at a certain point you don't want to sacrifice your comfort for anything really anyone or circumstances which leaves you holding onto the past a bit like the dinosaur. I feel like this bleeds into aries because it's like part of what can tick you off, and although there is a lightouse in the middle of this plate implying people around you will like you and look up to you at a certain point the spotlight will even irritate you and people who are annoying and threaten your comfort or even world view will just tick you off this july. I also see a little arrow on the aquarius symbol, I think this ties in with you going alot out of your comfort zone this july when it comes to communicating with others but also internally shows how you may be unsure about it, the arrow is like you wondering whether you should take that leap and the fact that its right on aquarius i feel means that you have a need for stability and security when it comes to friendships and being around others, and you are someone who requires space and to be alone with their thoughts perhaps.

[astarion-obsessions]

I think not enough people understand that Astarion doesn't want you to be his main or only source of blood. This even stands in direct contrast to what he really wants to achieve with biting Tav. Let me explain.

Why Astarion doesn't want you to be his blood bag

Let me start with explaining how I approached this topic. First of all, when I triggered the bite scene in my playthrough, I obviously let Astarion drink from my Tav. But then I got curious. What happens when I don't stop him? He's said I could trust him just a moment ago, didn't he? So I did just that, I trusted him literally with my life. 

Aaaand... he killed me. Well. What did I expect from a vampire, really. But that he actually drained me dry broke my heart. I really wanted to trust him, to reach out and show him that I didn't judge him for what he was and so on. I was really disappointed in him and couldn't quite grasp why he would do this. Was it a conscious decision? Did he lose control? Surely he would apologise and explain everything to me once someone resurrected me, returning the trust I was giving him the night prior, right?... right?

Of course not. The dialogue after him killing Tav was... at least as disappointing as him killing Tav in the first place. He shows his usual attitude, apologises half-heartedly and then just keeps going on with talking about draining the occasional bandit. He even snaps when you mention the topic of him feeding after that with something like "I already apologised, what more do you want?".

There's no real regret, no emotions. He simply doesn't care.

We know that he didn't care in the beginning, he tells us as much when he confesses his unwanted, growing feelings towards Tav in act 2. But still the whole bite scene didn't sit right with me until…

The Nightmare 

I randomly stumbled upon a clip of Astarion having a nightmare, so I researched about it and even started an Astarion run to experience it myself. So, if you play as Astarion, at the second long rest of act 1 he has a nightmare about Cazador, in which he recites the rules that defined how Astarion and the other spawn had to live:

First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures. 

Second, thou shalt obey me in all things. 

Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed. 

Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine. 

However Astarion reacts to this dream, he jolts awake afterwards and instinctively panics that he needs to find a way back to his master as soon as possible. His eyes set on his companions, who are sleeping / meditating peacefully around the fire, and then a thought passes his mind.

He could try to break one of Cazador's rules right then and there. He's able to stand in the sun, to bathe in running water, so maybe…

And that's why he decides to bite a companion. Astarion wakes up utterly terrified of what his master will do to him if he doesn't return to him in an instant - and he knows all too well what kind of horrors would await him if he so much as dares to think about rebelling again (read about that here) - so he is in desperate need of confirmation that he is now able to withstand and actively break the rules that have dominated his life for two centuries.

He needs to know that he is able to drink the blood of a thinking creature. And there they are. His clueless companions served on a silver platter. It's like an invitation to him, to test his boundaries. And who would be more fitting than the good hearted leader of the party Astarion wanted to (or already has) seduce(d) anyway?

This piece of information shed a whole new light on the bite scene. But let's look a bit closer at that. 

The Bite Night 

The very first thing Tav registers about what's going on with Astarion that night is him baring his fangs right above us, about to sink them into our flesh. He pulls back as soon as we open our eyes, retreating immediately until there's a safe distance between him and Tav. 

This may be the first time Tav gets to know that Astarion is a vampire, so he gets defensive and tells us that he's never killed a person for food, only animals. But then, instead of letting the idea of feeding on Tav go, he insists that animals aren't enough. 

But it's not enough. Not if I have to fight. I feel so weak. 

If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please. 

Then he goes on, literally pleading to get what he wants while putting on a sad expression in the end, even averting his gaze. 

And if we now have in mind that he just woke up from a nightmare about Cazador, feeling powerless and in desperate need of even a glimpse of hope that he might escape Cazador's cruel grip, his lines make a lot of sense. He's veiling the truth, of course, but not all of what he says is a lie. 

He indeed feels weak - powerless in fact - so drinking Tav's blood (the blood of a thinking creature) could prove that he may have regained a bit of power over himself, which had been exclusively reserved for Cazador the last 200 years. This would absolutely make him feel stronger, more confident than he's felt for a long, long time. 

And he indeed could think clearer after tasting Tav's blood, because this would bring clarity to the question if he is now able to break Cazador's rules on purpose and therefore give him information to work with when he needs to think about what to do next. 

Right after this, we get the chance to push into Astarion's mind, and if we do this, we can see what he thinks about. 

His mind opens up, revealing cracked and quivering memories. At their heart, you see dark eyes, commanding you to feed. 

You open your mouth and bite down. Not into a tender neck, but in the twisting body of a rat - the only thing your master lets you eat. 

He recalls the memory of how his master used to force him to eat disgusting vermin. As his memory is told, we can clearly see how deeply this affects him, for he can't keep up his walls of defensiveness and detachment. They just crack, crumble and reveal his misery clearly for Tav to observe. When we ask him about it directly afterwards, he first seems to search for a way out - a witty remark, anything - but gives up almost immediately. And he looks and sounds just completely defeated and tired, confirming what Tav just saw in his mind. 

He goes on with talking about trust. I think here he's seeing a chance to gain Tav's sympathy. If he already reveals such delicate information about his past, he can as well make use of it. So he appeals to Tav's understanding, offering us that this past is the reason for him only trusting Tav slowly. But then he immediately adds that now he trusts Tav, and that in return Tav can trust him, too. 

What he does here is displaying himself as pitiful, gaining Tav's sympathy, then seemingly going out of his way and saying that despite all he does trust Tav, which puts Tav in the position to follow suit with returning the trust… which Astarion definitely lied about on his part. But that's what he does. Manipulating. 

If we then respond with "You tried to bite me. How can I trust you?" instead of assuring us of his trustworthiness with more manipulation, he gets frustrated. 

Because we don't have a choice! Not if we're going to save ourselves from these worms. 

But he goes on with masking his reasons, even if he gave us a hint right in the beginning of act 1 when we picked him up, where he said that he would rather control the tadpole instead of removing it. If we play as Astarion, it gets clear pretty fast that he holds onto the tadpole, because it seems to be the only thing that had been able to "save" him from Cazador whilst no one and nothing else even attempted to help him for two centuries. Of course he would not want to get rid of the tadpole just like that. But he says so nonetheless to align with Tav's goals and display himself as useful. 

And then he does something interesting. 

I need you alive. You need me strong. 

Please. Only be a taste, I swear. I'll be well, you'll be fine, and everything can go back to normal. 

In the beginning of this conversation he mentioned he needed the blood to fight better. Now he takes up on this by saying that Tav needs him strong, hinting on him getting stronger after having a taste of Tav's blood. And then he promises that after this "everything can go back to normal", which right now means Astarion feeding on animals again. 

A few things about this are odd. 

Firstly, "only be a taste". Everyone, literally everyone has heard about the insatiable hunger of vampires. So how is it supposed to work that Astarion gets stronger from just a taste of Tav's blood? For how long? A few hours? Not nearly long enough to pose a real advantage, eh? For me this makes no sense. And if we think about his true intentions - wanting to find out if he can break Cazador's rule - just a taste would be absolutely enough. (And after he bites Tav without killing them, he even says that he needs something more filling!) 

Secondly, if Astarion really wanted to become stronger with the help of Tav's blood, why would he promise to go back to normal afterwards? He just offered Tav a stronger companion but then immediately nullified this argument by literally saying that this will be a one time arrangement. 

Thirdly, he subtly offers a bargain. "You give me your blood, I will be a stronger fighter for you." He did so in the beginning as well, repeating it with different words. And it fits his character very well to do so, because for all he knows everything comes with a price. He almost gets beaten to death and Cazador mercifully comes to his rescue? The price is a never ending life of torment and abuse. Astarion helps a potential victim for Cazador to flee? The price is a year of starvation, locked up in a dusty and dark tomb without knowing if it will ever find an end. Mindflayers rescued him from Cazador, (passively) granting him to possibly be free of him at last? The price is becoming a tentacled monster in the end. 

If we then allow him to bite us, he's visibly surprised about our graciousness, but of course doesn't let this chance slip and suggests getting comfortable instantly. Then he finally gets to sink his teeth into Tav's neck. This part of the scene can more or less be viewed from both sides - Astarion's and Tav's. 

He begins to feed on Tav and after a bit we can decide to interrupt him, but have to pass an ability check first. This repeats a second time when playing Tav, and even if it's only one AC when we play Astarion and decide to bite a companion, it still aligns, showing that Astarion seemingly loses himself in the taste of Tav's blood - which is very likely because (as he later tells us) we were the first humanoid he's ever fed on, so it's imaginable that Tav's blood must be tasting almost divine to him. 

This theory is supported by his actions after we fail the first AC or just let him continue. He grabs the back of Tav's head to pull them towards himself, emphasising on how greedy he is sucking the blood out of Tav. The camera even uses the exact same angles before failing or skipping the first AC and after, so the comparison is easy and the difference is clear:

If we then fail or skip the next AC, Astarion just drains us dry… And it gets even better after the bite night. 

The Morning After 

When Tav gets revived and then talks to Astarion, he is visibly surprised to see us, after he left the dead body of Tav behind with saying "Oh no, something terrible has happened". Sure Astarion, something… 

All of this happens when Astarion still doesn't care for Tav. He reacts with panic when we confront him with the fact that he literally killed us, and just manages to get his expression under control after a few seconds. I mean, just look at him:

'Killed' feels like a strong word. Not many corpses have your vigour. 

He definitely knows what he's done, and that 'killed' is indeed the right word for it, he is just very very bad at coping with guilt (which is amazingly analysed by thelikesoffinn - definitely read this, you'll understand Astarion so much better after this). 

He instantly lays the focus on our codependency again, that we need each other and so on. If we question why we should keep him around, he answers with:

A strong, well-fed vampire? I'm a powerful weapon - you'd be a fool to toss me aside now. 

With mentioning this, he wants to make sure that Tav will let him stay by their side and therefore grant him protection. 

But more importantly he continues:

Anyway, last night was an aberration. It will never happen again. 

He doesn't even start with something like "Next time I'll be more careful" or anything similar. He straight up says that it will never happen again. Period. If we then ask who he will feed on next time he gets hungry, he presents the idea of feeding on villains and bandits "who need killing anyway". And this is exactly what he wants. This even shows in his reaction to Tav's response to his suggestion.

If we agree and therefore allow him to feed on our enemies ("Sounds good. Glad we could agree"), this is how he reacts:

As am I. I'm starting to feel a little peckish already. 

This itself doesn't sound all too enthusiastic, but we get his approval up, which definitely shows that he very much likes that Tav agreed. 

On the contrary, if we suggest he can feed on Tav, ignoring his will wish to feed on villains ("Look, I'm not against you feeding on me, but only if we talk about it first"), this is his reaction:

Of course! This sounds eminently reasonable. 

I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together. 

Doesn't sound too bad either, eh? But we don't get his approval. He doesn't disapprove, of course, because this is still a thousand times better than what he had until then, but still not what he really wants… 

So, what does all of this mean for the initial question? 

Conclusion 

The crucial point here is what it means for Astarion to feed on Tav. The only things he remembers since Cazador turned him, are being relentlessly dominated and horrifyingly abused. The things Astarion wants the most are to be safe and to finally have control over himself again. 

He bit Tav for the sole purpose of finding out if he can be free of Cazador's rules. So why would he jump right into being dependent on Tav? He suggests to feed on villains, because then he is free of anyone's mercy. He doesn't need to rely on Tav to graciously allow him to get a drop of blood. He can do this himself now. 

This is such an important step for his character growth, to find the way to his autonomy again, so if we only allow him to feed on Tav, it instantly sets him back into old habits of bowing to his masters words - or in this case Tav's. Because it's all hes been doing for the last two centuries of his life. 

So, as much as the thought of the self-sacrificing offer to be his personal blood bag may seem romantic or whatever, it's actually the exact opposite, trapping Astarion in what he desperately tries to escape from. The restrictions that come with someone dominating him mentally and physically. And as I mentioned earlier, he doesn't believe in the goodness of people. For him every "kind" act has a price and he likes to know what he has to pay, so he wouldn't even want to just drink Tav's blood without Tav getting anything out of it. He would most certainly expect Tav one day to come around with something he doesn't want to give or do, so he wants to control such situations beforehand. 

All he wants is to make his own decisions and be free in every way possible… 

So please just let him drain some bandits, will ya?