#i just want to stop feeling like the embodiment of disappointment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heeliopheelia · 1 month

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LACY (p. jay)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

includes: oral (f receiving), fingering, crying, insecurities, soft dom! jay, praising, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, hate comments

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩

guts event masterlist ⋆♱✮♱⋆ main masterlist

Looking at your phone makes you want to throw up.

“out of literally everyone he pulls… that? gotta be a joke”

“jay deserves sm better”

“if that thing got a chance with him that means i’d be unstoppable”

“pls tell me this is a joke”

“girlie gotta have a crazy head game cuz ain’t no way lmfao”

As if you don’t feel bad enough about yourself already.

Ever since the photo of you and your boyfriend coming back from a date leaked to the internet, there’s been nothing but a ridiculous amount of hatred directed towards your clueless self.

In the morning Jay’s text saying please stay offline today baby was enough to make your stomach churn without even knowing what was actually happening. And against his words and your common sense, your fingers instantly went to the first better social media app on screen’s your homepage.

And so with every single comment put out on the internet, you feel your confidence and self-worth slowly crumbling down until they have eventually worn you out and you’re nothing but a sobbing mess ever since the morning. Your head hurts from all the crying yet the slightly masochistic part of yourself doesn’t let you tear your gaze away from the screen.

Maybe it’s because deep down you’ve always felt like you’re not good enough to be dating such a man as Jay, and the insecure thoughts he’s worked so hard to bury six feet underneath your feet have just resurfaced once again.

Knowing he’s surrounded by almost literal embodiments of the beauty standard on a daily basis and then having to come home to a plain nobody like you can’t be good for no one’s mental health, that’s for sure.

“Baby?”

The lump stretches your throat too painfully for you to make any other sound than the whimper you let out, and soon you hear Jay’s footsteps approaching your suffocatingly silent room.

“Are you there, love?”

You press your trembling lips together and nod your head, trying to force yourself to stop being so emotional for once. The last thing you want him to do is deal with… this, whatever your current state is.

“You’ve been reading the comments,” he points out quietly, but not with accusation – only worry. His heart squeezes with desperation to somehow make you feel better, yet you take his silence as a sign of disappointment in you.

And somehow you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, too swallowed by shame.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper eventually after a couple beats of silence. Your head drops lowly onto your bunched up knees. “I just had to see it myself.”

“Hey, no more twitter, no more instagram – no more,” Jay pleads softly as he carefully takes your phone out of your weak grasp and sets it on the bedside table, only to thread his fingers through yours and intertwine them together. “Don’t do this to yourself. Please, stop crying, beautiful. They don’t deserve your tears, hm?”

A sob rips out of your throat and echoes through the silent room, simultaneously breaking your boyfriend’s heart in two. “It’s just… I-,” you’re unable to finish your sentence with the hundreds of thoughts running around your mind, not giving you a moment of peace since hours ago.

“I know nothing I say will make you feel better now,” Jay whispers, shuffling closer on the bed until his chest is pressed against your shoulder and he envelops you in a protective embrace. He presses a warm kiss to your temple. “I love you. I hate to see you like that, honey.”

You nod your head, sniffling loudly and choking on your own sobs. “I love you too,” you cry quietly, moving your head to rest against his chest. “I just don’t feel good with myself right now.”

Jay hums. His hands blindly reach to your face to wipe your tears away, fingers gently caressing your damp face. “I know.” His words are muffled by your hair as he nuzzles his face in it. “I’m sorry.”

You can clearly hear the violent beating of his heart from your position and the insides of your stomach twist with sadness because you know well he’s blaming himself for everything. He promised to protect you at the beginning of your relationship, forever and always, and yet he’s failed at the one thing that should’ve been of the highest importance to him.

He felt conflicted about his job more times than he would like to admit. The constant restrictions, always having to watch his words and actions, the almost non-existent privacy – it was tough, annoying, but he could take it.

But he’s never hated being who he is more than he does right now. Seeing the person he loves the most, the person who holds his entire world, being in such a miserable state because of his job makes him feel just so helpless.

Swallowing his self-pity, Jay soothes you as gently as he can. His fingers thread through your hair, waiting patiently until your heavy sobs turn into hiccups and eventually small whimpers.

“I chose you, YN,” he finally says softly, hand pushing the hair sticking to your face away as the other one cups your cheek and brings you to look at him. “I chose you and I’d choose you over everyone else. It’s always going to be you. Always.”

You blink your lashes heavy with tears, cheeks stinging from the excessive amount of them that has dropped down your face. He nudges your cheek with his nose before pressing a gentle kiss to your brow bone. This tender gesture and his words finally allow the smallest smile to appear on your lips.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Jay giggled. His arms wrap tighter around you before he lifts you up and pulls you onto his lap. “You know, it’s okay if you don’t fully love yourself yet, I can do it for the both of us for now, baby. Please, believe me.”

You nod your head, now choked up for a whole different reason. You let him lean in and join your lips together in a sweet kiss. His knuckles caress your cheeks and chin as he plants a chain of pecks on your swollen mouth.

He tries to break the kiss but you don’t let him get too far away, pulling him back in by his neck and crashing your lips together again, this time more desperately. Jay’s fingers slip into the loopholes of your pants, bringing you closer and closer until there’s no space left between your chests.

The hushed I love you’s coming out from both of your mouths, his warm lips sucking a kiss after kiss on yours, his hand that drops down and sneaks underneath your top to linger over your skin – you’re becoming dizzy from the overwhelming love you’re being given.

“I’ve achieved everything because of you, love. I am who I am because of you,” he breathes out into your lips, forehead bumping against yours. One last time, he kisses the whatever is left of your tears away, then goes back to your hungry lips. “I’d give you the world if you asked me to. Let me take care of you, like you always do for me.”

With a strong move, he pulls you off his lap and lays you down on the plushy bedding. You shiver when the warmth of his body leaves you, only to catch your breath when he drops to the ground with the dull sound of his knees hitting the wooden floor.

His warm hands rub your thighs soothingly, palming your inflamed skin before his lips follow their lead and pepper small kisses all over them, gradually traveling higher. You can hardly breathe from the tension, impatiently waiting for his every next move, the exhaustion in your body making you feel everything tenfold.

The whisper you let out is strangled because of the prominent tingling in between your thighs. “I need you, Jay.”

With a hum of acknowledgement, he unzips then takes off your pants along with your underwear, discarding the clothes somewhere on the floor blindly. Breath hitches in your throat when he leans forward and finally buries his face between your legs, lips softly grazing your warmth.

His hands push on your inner thighs, holding your legs wide open as he leans down and presses a kiss to your pussy. A jolt shoots through your body when his teeth brush over your clit before he ducks his head down and engulfs it with his warm mouth entirely.

A shiver runs down your spine when his tongue runs flat against your clit, another but longer lick following right after. Your fingers clench on the duvet beneath you as you pant and whimper with every move that he makes.

Jay’s thumbs circle and press on the smooth skin on your thighs, he himself humming and grunting into your pussy as he slurps you up.

You’re perfect, so perfect in his eyes, yet the angle is still not satisfying to him, constantly searching for a better access to your quivering hole. Suddenly, his arms wrap around your knees and he swiftly lifts your legs further up, almost folding you in half as he sinks his mouth in your wetness again, groaning at how much better he can eat you out now. Properly.

A loud moan ripples from your throat and you jerk in his hold violently, not expecting him to just manhandle you like this. You’re just there, mind blank and eyes fluttering shut when Jay pushes his tongue into your hole, fucking and stretching you with it as best as he can. He’s being so loud with it, so nasty that you can’t help but surrender yourself to him completely, losing yourself to him over and over again.

Two of his warm fingers circle your weeping hole before letting them sink inside slowly, gently. With the addiction of his nose brushing over your clit, his tongue never halting its movements and now working in harmony with his fingers, you’re barely responsive.

You mewl and whine breathlessly, sweat starting to create a thin layer on your worked up body. Jay pulls away to take a breath and admire your blissed out face, long fingers curling up, and he ducks his head to cover your sensitive thighs with marks and bites.

“Aah, s’ good,” you slur out, arching your back off the bed slightly.

“Yeah? You like that, baby?” Jay asks, sucking one last hickey on your inner thigh before moving back to your needy cunt. You can only hum in agreement, the noise quickly turning into another string of moans and wails as you feel your approaching high.

Jay cranes his neck to get to you at the best angle, one that will help you reach your climax the fastest. He didn’t even realize when his now hard cock started rutting against the bed slowly, only focused on you and you only, restraining his own pleasure.

You open your mouth to warn him of your incoming release but before you can do that, Jay speeds up the movement of his fingers and has you coming within a second, a loud cry of his name on your lips serving as honey for his ears.

He drags his face away from your glistening pussy to take a look at your face.

You’re so beautiful, so perfect, soft and all his.

“My prettiest,” he murmurs, planting a bunch of kisses against your thighs and stomach before lifting himself on his arms and crawling to get you to face him, laying breathlessly beneath him.

He lowers himself to kiss you right on the lips, the slick from his face smearing against yours slightly but you’re too far gone to pay it any mind.

“I love you,” is all you’re able to choke out in a whisper. Jay smiles and brushes his nose against yours, kissing you once, then twice and thrice before letting you fill your lungs again.

“I love you more.”

And as much as you want to protest at first, you realize that he might be actually right. There’s no doubt of your feelings or devotion to him, you gave him your entire heart a long time ago, entrusted him with all you are and had enough faith in him to never make you regret your decision.

But no one loves like Jay does. His love is pure and raw, coming from the depth of his heart and overshadowing all other feelings you’ve ever harbored to another man.

That’s how you also know that no matter anything you’ll always end up together, overcome everything.

His gentle hands grab the bottom of the t-shirt you’re wearing, his actually now that he takes a better look at it, then lifts it up, revealing your perky breasts to him. He plants kisses against them, simultaneously unzipping his pants and kicking them down to the floor. His boxers are discarded next and you help him unbutton his shirt with your shaky fingers.

“Make me yours,” you say into his lips once you’re done with that, hand pressed against his cheek.

Your words are enough to send Jay’s patience out the window, and he’s lifting your leg to hook it over his waist before sinking his hard cock inside you, your walls instantly sucking him in to the hilt. He groans at the warmth that engulfs him, squeezing him so tightly he can barely move.

Your heart pounds in your chest, blood rushing to your cheeks at the intimacy, his eyes boring into you lovingly. Because that’s what he is. Utterly, hopelessly lovesick.

His chest heaves above yours for a moment as he lets you adjust and relax around him before settling for a slower and deep pace. Your breaths get ragged quickly, listening to the filthy squelching whenever he pulls out of you only to sink in further each time.

“See, baby? It’s all good now,” he rasps, sweaty hair beginning to cling to his forehead because of the stuffiness in your bedroom. “You don’t need anyone else. Only me. I’ll take care of you.”

“Only you,” you repeat after him, watching his eyes sparkle and eyebrows furrow.

He lets out a chuckle, out of breath. “Good girl.”

His hold on you tightens as he fucks into you, his large hand slipping to the back of your head and pressing your face to his neck. His thrusts grow faster, more erratic and messy, and the only thing you’re able to do at the moment is whine desperately into his skin and wrap your other leg over his hips, thighs clenching his sides even tighter.

You feel better. You feel heavenly. You feel loved.

He bullies his way so deep inside you that you feel as if on the verge of blacking out. It’s so good. You’re pretty sure you’re going to leave a drool stain on your boyfriend’s toned shoulder once you pull away from there as you’re just unable to close your mouth for a second, too fucked out to have any control over it now.

“Can I go a little faster, sweetheart?” Jay asks.

You whine into the junction of his neck. “Mhm.”

And so he does, his touch growing in intensity as well. He lets go of your neck and your head falls back onto the pillows and you finally get to look at his face, expression so soft and tender, and a stark contrast to the way he fucks you.

Your stomach sets ablaze with every loud clap of his hips against yours, his precum making a mess on your thighs.

“Fucking hell,” he moans lowly, not being able to get enough of the doe-eyed look you’re giving him. He didn’t know it was possible, but he thinks he loves you even a little more than yesterday.

The sloppy sound of your wet skin colliding with his ricochets off of your bedroom’s walls and your eyes water again – this reason completely contrasting to the earlier heartbreak. Jay is here to kiss all of your tears away, his warm lips tracing your cheeks and collecting every salty droplet that falls on your skin.

You throw your head back, nails digging into his shoulder blades. And then he reaches down with the one hand that’s not holding you, pressing his fingers on your swollen clit and rubbing circles on it, making you grow lightheaded again.

His never ceasing thrusts keep hitting your g-spot, without even giving you a second to breathe.

“J-Jay,” you whimper, voice wet and small, and he knows exactly what you want to communicate to him.

You fall apart in his arms as your orgasm hits your sensitive pussy even harder this time, making you squirt with a shallow gasp for air. You feel completely owned by him at the moment.

Jay’s eyes roll to the back of his skull for a hot minute, his cock aching and twitching as your walls spasm and squeeze him mercilessly. He buries his face in your neck now, nibbling under your ears and panting heavily against your skin.

Jay cums hard, probably harder than he ever has before – all because he knows he’s fucked you so good you can’t stop shaking in his arms. His own thighs begin to quiver a little as he ruts his emptying cock into your warm pussy, filling you up so nicely.

It’s the choked up wail that leaves your throat that spurs him into pushing more of his throbbing length into your sensitive self. His warm cum fills you to the brim, seeping slowly onto your thighs, yet he keeps snapping his hips against you slowly. “That’s it. Take it, baby. Take it all.”

Your lips part and when he pulls away from your neck, he immediately slides his tongue against yours. His kisses are sloppy and hot and wet but that only pushes you even further into the state of bliss, completely losing your mind for the man above you.

Your back is arched, making you press your chest into his forcefully as you jolt and twitch from overstimulation as he pulls out his soft cock out of you carefully.

Jay’s lips press to your temple warmly with a soothing intention. You try to catch your breath, body sweaty and clammy just like your hair. Yet you look just as pretty as ever to him. His prettiest girl.

He collapses onto the bed next to you and lets you cling to him for as long as you want to, holding you tightly to his chest and drowning you in praises and compliments. It’s only when he notices that your eyelids are growing heavy that he gently pulls you away and up from the bed, steadying your wobbly self on the rug beside your bed.

You look at him in confusion, eyes misty and tired and he can’t help but giggle and kiss you one more time. “We should probably take a shower first,” he flicks your nose when you scrunch it up slightly but then you nod your head.

When you start walking into the direction of the bathroom, goosebumps spiking your skin despite the hot temperature in the room, you turn around and frown when you notice that Jay has stayed behind you.

“You’re not coming, love?” You ask but he shakes his head.

“You go first, baby. I’ll be right there in a second.” He nods his head to the ruined bedding. “Gotta change the sheets first.”

You flush as you take in the mess you’ve both made. “Right,” you mumble and then disappear behind the door.

When you’re both showered and back in the bed together, you’re propping yourself on your elbows, trying to reach the switch of the lamp on the bedside table. You don’t get far when Jay’s arm wraps itself across your torso and brings you back down, right into his chest.

“Stay,” he mumbles, nuzzling his face in your hair.

You giggle quietly but give in and lay comfortably, half on the bed and half on your boyfriend. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jay hums lowly. “I mean forever. Stay with me forever.”

You look at him, eyes slightly widening despite how tired you are, and his words take your breath away when you realize he’s dead serious. You’re at a loss of words, looking at the man by your side, stunned, yet he only smiles lazily and brings your hand to his lips to press his warm lips against your knuckles.

“Marry me.”

Lacy, oh, Lacy, I just loathe you lately

And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you

taglist: @luvkpopp @yannew @hoonxclsvly @jongseongslvr @beomgyusonlywife @starggukies @koizekomi @ineedsomezzz @starl1ghtsinthedark @enhastolemyheart @seokseokjinkim @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @somekpopshiteu97 @enhypens-hoe @alpha-mommy69 @jwnzlvr @wondipity

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @dilucsleftshoelace @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @mon2sunjinsuver @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @criminalyun @kissestojapan

note: i actually really like how it turned out xx

#carly's 2k event ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen hard hours #park jay x reader #jay x reader smut #jay x reader #park jay imagines #park jay smut #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen jay smut #jay hard hours

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newtkive · 4 months

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confectionary clash - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x afab!reader (established relationship)

summary: carmy's girl is the human embodiment of a sweetheart. that is, unless it's that time of the month and richie provokes her.

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, fighting, weaponized incompetence from richie but we still love him.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble but turned into 3k words. so it's written kinda like a drabble?? (hence the lowercase i can't be arsed to change) but just... long. idk hopefully its entertaining. also, i don't mean to demonize richie, he's my favorite character i think,, i just love writing him as problematic lmao cuz he's so funny. anyways, enjoy!

as carmy’s confidant and girlfriend, you were always the voice of reason. with just a string of words, you’d be calming him down after a hectic work day, giving him a fresh perspective on his work dilemmas since you were outside of the restaurant circle. in the time he’s known you, he hadn’t seen you do as much as barely raise your voice. maybe the occasional snap, but you always follow it up with swift apologies and big watery eyes.

that is, unless you’re in pain. specifically cramps. the sight of you 180ing from a sweet girl with a bright smile and even sweeter words, to an evil sorceress with spells rolling off your tongue, inflicting curses onto anyone who irritates you is jarring. a bit dramatic, sure, but that’s what you were during that time of the month—dramatic.

carmy tries best to dote on you. you would never ask him to go out of his way for something, unless it’s grabbing a heating pad or water, but carmy wants you to. it takes prying to hear your desires and cravings after asking a million times, and you begrudgingly give in with no expectations. nevertheless, you end up with exactly what you asked for, or something close to it, and you’re endlessly grateful.

on days when you stop into the restaurant when you’re feeling down, carmy enacts this same routine. if it’s food, he’ll cook it for you; desserts, he’ll grab any extras marcus has (or marcus happily makes it from scratch if they're not busy, claiming he needs the practice). if you want snacks, he sends his right hand man richie out to grab them despite your protests.

richie does it often whenever you stop into the store, and he acts like it’s a chore sometimes, but everyone has a hunch that he really loves it. come on, twenty dollars to get a few items for you and pocket the rest for himself? plus a break from work? done deal.

richie wouldn’t admit it, but he liked taking care of you too. you were always a sweetheart to him, but it wasn’t in his personality to be as sincere as you, so this was a little act of service to show his love. besides, the year and a half you’ve known him has definitely earned you the title of a friend, and you’d agree.

now, you don’t ever want to seem ungrateful, but when you ask for a specific treat, you get disappointed when you don’t really get it. maybe it’s the fluctuating mood talking, but you always end up snapping at richie due to his poor choices. if you ask for one thing, he’ll get you the next, and you even suspect he does it on purpose sometimes. pulling reactions from people is his specialty.

it’s not like you’re a complete bitch about it, because he took his time out to go get you something, but richie has a problem with weaponized competence even with his new and improved attitude. you know he can get you the jolly ranchers you suggested, but he chooses to grab goldfish because it’s closer to checkout. it was annoying, but you never really brought it up to carmy. it's not like you needed to, it wasn't a huge deal. you figured richie could use the little break, and you don’t hate the snacks he brings.

except on days like this.

you were at the restaurant on a slow day, dragged yourself out of bed despite your cramps just to see your little grumpy boyfriend and hide in his office. even as you entered the establishment through the back you glared at richie (who sweetly waved) in passing, side eyeing a few of the newbies who ran in front of you despite their apologies. none of your usual bright smiles and cheery greetings. the bee line straight to the office was a clear enough explanation for how you were feeling.

upon entering, carmy looked up in a panic, which quickly melted into a soft smile at the sight of his girlfriend. “hey, baby.” he cooed softly, immediately scooting back from his desk to reach out to grasp at your waist. you let him, but pushed down the irritation, not favoring touch at the moment. however, his rough hands sliding a little under your shirt to grasp at the flesh of your hips calmed you down, earning a small quirk of the lips from you.

“whatcha doin’ here, love?” he asks, bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss softly, still looking up at you.

you shrug, squeezing his hand, face a bit stoic. you’d been like this for a couple of days so he wasn’t surprised by your lack of friendliness. knowing you this long, carmy became accustomed to your monthly mood swings, and he felt privileged that you didn’t feel the need to put up an act for him.

“missed you.” you finally sighed, scooting closer so you stood between his knees. palms found both sides of carmy’s face and tilted it upwards a bit so you could study his appearance. stressed and tired. however, he seemed to glow at the mere admission of you missing him. it took a few seconds for his brain to rewire, looking up at you like you created the cosmos. the only reason you heard his soft, shy, ‘missed you too’ was because of the stagnant silence.

“hungry?” carmy asked, beaming from the attention. you shrugged again, allowing him to tighten his grip on your sides and tug you onto his lap. whining a bit in protest, you reposition yourself, legs falling over his lap and arms around his neck. your faces were closer now, and carmy looked at your sad eyes with a little pang in his chest. brows furrowing, he tilted his head and snuck a hand under your chin. long, tattooed fingers tickled at your chin, and before you knew it you were giggling and grinning while batting his hand away.

“cmon, i know you must want somethin’.” your grin was infectious and laced in his soft words. you hummed, already cheered up, and tapped a finger against your chin to make a thinking face. carmy chuckled, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes and patiently waited.

a thought crossed your mind and you met gazes again. “i might go grab some little debbie snacks from around the corner.” you decided and nodded to yourself as if solidifying your decision.

as you started sitting up more, carmy’s grip tightened on your waist. “ah, ah, no. stay here.” he protested. soon enough he was calling out ‘cousin!’ and richie came bounding over, opening the office door.

richie’s face used to contort in disgust at any visual sign of affection exchanged between you and carmy, but he was used to it now. “what’s up, cousin?” he asked, almost seeming out of breath, eyes flickering between the both of you.

a short exchange between the two occurred: carmy asking richie to run to the corner store, handing richie a twenty, and richie asking you precisely what you wanted. you made it simple and easy, something he could remember: oreos and ho-hos, a midwestern's guilty pleasure.

“ight, cap’n, i’ll be back.” richie says, saluting you two before heading out. both you and carmy exchanged an amused smirk, knowing the only reason richie went was to get himself some cigarettes and hot fries he would scarf down on the walk back.

in the twenty minutes richie was gone, the kitchen had gone to shit. the newbies had been running the wrong food to tables, online orders were filling the tablet nonstop due to a discount glitch, and carmy was close to losing it. sitting in the office, now alone with the muffled sound of your boyfriend yelling, you were more grumpy than before. arms crossed, you snapped your head to the side once the door creaked open. in walked richie with a plastic bag, inside of it holding your hope for a better day.

"what took you so long?" you frowned up at him, but sat up straighter in anticipation. you eyes almost shone as you looked at corner store logo on the bag.

"went the long way." he mumbled, digging in the plasic. the skeptical look on your face didn't leave as he pulled out an item and set it on the table. your frown deepened further as you noticed there was nothing at all you asked for, only met with a crushed sleeve of crackers.

“where are the oreos?” you sighed out, lips pursed in a bit of a pout.

“didn’t find any, so i got you some peanut butter crackers.” he mumbled, digging around the bag again, as if he didn’t just break your heart. if it was anyone else you'd believe them, but with richie you figured he just got bored of looking.

your jaw fell slack and you gaped like a fish for a moment, waiting for him to pull out more treats from his bag. but that time didn’t come, as he fished a pack of cigarettes out instead. “and the ho-ho’s?” your voice was hopeful.

richie perked up at that, putting the cigarettes down next to the crackers. the next second he presented you with a smushed mountain of brown and white concealed in a plastic wrapper sitting atop the palm of his hand. eyes flicking between the disappointment before you and his face, you frowned in disbelief.

richie only managed to emote as much as a ‘yikes’ face before placing it on the desk. “got smushed in transit, but tastes the same!” he gave his best attempt at a smile. your brows grew taut together and anger bubbled up in your chest. you were sure your face was quickly turning red.

“carmy gave you twenty dollars, and you come back with this?!” you hiss out, daring to look at the dry crackers and smushed up dream of a ho-ho. the sight only made you become angrier. this was something a senile old person would give you, not a competent 40-something-year-old man. his lack of care was clear, and you were boiling.

richie just scoffed—he had the nerve to scoff.

“no, not just that! i got a sprite and a few pack of cigs for myself and the guy.” he waved around one of them to prove his point. if you thought you were mad before, you reached a new level of anger. usually, you’d deal with the disappointment and thank richie for even going—aside from a smart alec remark.

however, the demon conducting your period for this month did not make your rational decisions seem clear nor enticing. as you shot up from carmy’s chair, you only knew you wanted to make richie as upset as you were in this moment.

with one finger poking his chest, you began raising your voice. as soon as you started talking, richie's eyes turned wide as saucers, exactly like a deer in headlights. a string of curses snuck into your tirade, between phrases such as “you always fucking do this richie!” and “are you fuckin’ dumb?! did you get dropped on your head?!”. you only figured he didn't fire back right away because he was so stunned.

outside of the office, the kitchen was calmer now. things were finally falling into order but still required carmy’s supervision until the sudden rush ended. the only disturbance was you. now, it was your voice yelling behind closed doors and not carmy’s.

the chef—in the middle of helping sydney plate a dish—just about gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around to look at the barely cracked door of the office. there was the telltale muffled yelling, but what shocked him was it was clearly you yelling.

turning back around, carmy gawked at sydney who silently shared the same look of surprise. it was only until they heard richie start yelling back that sydney silently pushed him toward the door. it didn’t take more than a second for carmy to snap out of his surprise and march over to the office.

throwing the hand towel he was using over his shoulder, he yanked the heavy door open before all but body slamming his way into the room and slamming the door closed. the yelling was suddenly clear, as if carmy was being pulled out from underwater.

“YOU GET ME WHAT I ASKED YOU, OR GET ME NOTHING AT ALL!”

“THEN YOU’D BITCH ABOUT THAT TOO—“

“OR NOTHING AT ALL!”

“hey, hey, HEY!” the two of you were too busy at each others throats to even hear carmy enter, until his voice brought you both to a halt, heads turning towards him.

carmy’s eyes were immediately glued to you, not paying the least bit of attention to richie. your arms were stiff as boards to your sides, fists and jaw clenched, brows taut, and race beet red. the man had never seen you look like this before, and his instinct to comfort you took over. turning to richie with a look that could kill, carmy finally spoke. “what did you do?”

“what did i do?! except take precious time to get your girl shit she didn’t even want?!”

an offended gasp left your mouth, and you retorted instantly. “oh please! because a crushed up sleeve of crackers and a mountain of mushed up cake is just what i asked for!”

“you’re ungrateful.” richie pointed a finger at you now. carmy launched forward and slapped it down. he knew richie would never hurt you, and you knew it too, as you just rolled your eyes in response, but carmy’s instinct’s took over. richie didn’t even look phased, just irritated. carmy stood in front of you and forcefully turned richie around by his shoulders to send him to the door. if carmy didn't have half of a sane mind, he would’ve kicked richie's bottom with his shoe for good measure.

“go take a break chef! or do whatever the fuck, i don’t care.” carmy shouted after richie, and the man left with a slam of the door.

you simply watched the scene unfold with arms crossed and that same deep set frown. carmy turned around to face you as the air settled, a hand running through his hair. blue eyes raked over your tense form and carmy decided he would give you a little space to calm down. however, the second he saw your bottom lip wobbling and eyes grow watery he threw that thought to the wind

“hey, no, no, don’t cry.” carmy extended his arms and collected you into them. the tense posture you held relaxed into his slouched form as he held you close; one hand in your hair, and the other rubbing circles on your back as you sniffled.

a pit of guilt burned in your stomach and spurred you into attempting to bury yourself into carmy. blue straps of his apron rubbed against your cheek as you shuffled impossibly closer. usually, carmy would love this, but right now he'd do anything to not see you so out of it. shushing you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

there were a few beats of you hiding away before you decided to pull back a bit to face him again—and boy did you look pitiful.

the same cheeks previously bright with anger were now flush with embarrassment and stained with tears. a tattooed hand found itself sitting on your cheek, thumb rubbing under your eye to collect a fallen tear. at the touch, your eyes fluttered closed, and carmy’s heart broke at the sight.

“you gonna tell me what happened?” your boyfriend asked, trying not to make you feel even more guilty. his full attention was on you. exhaling slowly, your eyes fluttered back open and were met with those bright blue ones that always calmed you down.

“i dunno, i just-“ you shook your head and carmy waited patiently, “it wasn’t even a big deal, but richie just really set me off for some reason.”

“yeah, may as well join the club.” carmen’s words were light, not at all sarcastic, but aiming to ease you and bring out a smile. it worked, your lips turning upwards and carmy mimicking the half smile. he looked down at you with such love, head tilted to follow every time yours moved, and thumb caressing your cheek as he took in every expression.

your smile finally faltered as you glanced back at the office desk. “i feel so awful. he went out and got me stuff and i just yelled at him.” you sputter out.

carmy followed your gaze over his shoulder to finally see what started all of this. at the sight of the crackers and ball of what looked like mush, carmy scoffs in both disbelief and amusement, because of course richie would bring you that. turning back towards you, the chef finally gets it.

“baby, if someone brought me that shit while my insides were shedding i’d kill them.” he chuckled.

“really?” you asked hopefully, smile forming again.

“yes, really. even if i wasn’t goin’ through that i’d actually kick his ass.” carmy mirrored your smile.

nodding, you let yourself chuckle along with him. strong arms found you again and you were wrapped in a tight hug, allowing his squeezes to take away some guilt you were feeling. a moment passed and you knew carmy had to get back to work. with a sigh, you pulled back.

it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek. guiding his face close, you met him halfway and pressed your lips to his in a kiss. lips moving against his, your noses brushed, and after a moment you let the kiss dissipate; lips slowly falling away from where they were molded together. one last peck was placed on carmy’s lips, as if saying, ‘thank you for being so attentive’. that earned an appreciate hum.

you both beamed, faces still close as you came back down to earth. “you gotta get back to work, and i gotta apologize.” you murmured and carmy nodded obediently.

with apprehension, carmy let you go, arms floating in the air for half a second as he walked backwards towards the door. “don’t go easy on him, though. richie lives for a fight. that was probably his anger management for the day.” carmy smirked, grasping the doorknob.

you just shook your head, eyes narrowed teasingly. before he turned to leave, you called out to him. “thank you, carmy.”

the man just gave you a confused look, chuckling. “don’t thank me, you're my girl.” with that he was back to work and you were left to your own devices. with one more glance at the monstrosity on the office desk, you left the room and went on a search for richie.

thirty minutes later, carmy was due for a smoke break and approached the back door. he slowed his tracks, lighter and cigarette in hand as he cracked the door and heard giggling. the sight before him was drastically different than before: you and richie sitting on a ledge next to each other, giggling and bumping shoulders. carmy breathed out a laugh at the sight and fully walked out. this caught both of your attention, grinning ear to ear as you clearly made up.

“hey, cousin!” richie grinned, and you both waved. figures.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #the bear imagine #carmy berzatto imagine #x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

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nu-suave · 29 days

Text

WHO FALLS FIRST, WHO FALLS HARDER? feat. satoru, nanami, sukuna

word count: 866

summary: what it says on the tin - someone falls first, the other falls harder. a/n: considering writing a part two of this with choso, toji & higuruma

You fall first, Satoru falls harder. Listen, Satoru is notoriously hard at opening his heart to people - you engage in some harmless flirting at first, which quickly turns genuine for you. So genuine it hurts, actually, every honeyed word associated with a visceral need to admit, I really like you, Satoru. It’s a dizzying feeling at first, that quickly transforms into a nurtured comfort; a warmth in your chest whenever he calls, something that has you kicking your feet when he invites you out, a constant happiness whenever you’re together. Liking Satoru becomes as easy as breathing, when you’ve loved him long enough.

Satoru doesn’t pick up on it. He just… does his thing. He attaches himself to you like a flea to a cat (though, you find it much more endearing) and encroaches on your space, carves a place for himself in your life. He acts as he finds natural, until suddenly it isn’t natural; suddenly, he’s staring you dead in the eyes, and it hits him like a fist to the face. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you. And because Satoru can’t be casual a day in his life, his behaviour immediately switches to accommodate that. He disappears from your life for a week straight out of shock - and horror, he’s ashamed to say, for allowing himself to fall in love - and then reappears on your doorstep after giving you the fright of you life, car keys dangling in his fingers as he tells you he booked a restaurant for you two to have dinner.

Nanami falls first, you fall harder. You’re the mundanity he’s been craving for years. Not in that you’re boring or dull, but that liking you comes so natural to him. You become the embodiment of everything he wants; you’ll grab your groceries together, take time out of your day to chat everyday, and every time a new cafe catches your eye, the other is the first one either of you go to. It’s a natural progression with Nanami. One day, you’re friends that text every few days. Next thing you notice, you’re looking back on that and thinking it weird you ever used to be so distant. You send each other a text every morning, have plans every fortnight, know most things about each other’s lives - what happened in your day, how things are going with your friends, you’re both in contact with the other’s family. Liking you means Nanami shares his life with you, and in doing so, it loses its unappeal - you make him look forward to tomorrow.

It hits you one day, out of the blue. Flowers that he bought you are sitting on your coffee table. A spare toothbrush (his toothbrush) sits in the bathroom beside your own. A book lies neatly bookmarked on your kitchen counter that you haven’t ever touched. There’s an entire section of your closet dedicated to his clothes, and he’s routinely stopping by your place to pick up the ties he’s left behind - you have the same predicament. You look around your room, eyes wide with every part of Nanami that lives in there, and you realise; holy shit. I’ve been in love with this man for months.

You fall first. Sukuna, on the other hand, opens his eyes one day to realise he’s already there. He’s a hard person to love at first, and you readily admit that. The first few weeks, with your feelings blossoming like a newly born flower in your chest, you swear up and down that you do not like him. Then your feelings intensify, and they just grow stronger and stronger as every day passes. His dull looks when he’s bored become endearing, the way he crosses his arms when he’s disappointed charming, the handsome grin that sweeps his features when you somehow, miraculously, beat him at a game of chess enchanting. Things you previously didn’t bat an eye at become something worth note about him. Then, as if you’re not already hopelessly besotted enough, he starts making advances.

Sukuna wakes up one day and his first thought that morning is to seek you out to spend breakfast together. His second is a question: when did you become such a fixture in his life? The third is a realisation of, right, he must be in love with you. Then he stretches his arms above his head, accepts this as a simple fact of life, and seeks you out for breakfast. That’s how he perceives it, at least. The way he’d stare at you, already tender, turns into something flustering - his second pair of eyes stay on you constantly and, once you notice, it’s impossible to miss. He demands your attention more freely, no longer bothering with poor cover-ups. You share all meals together, where once he goes so far as to insist you hand feed him fruit. He tells Uraume to cook your favourite meal when he notices you’re distressed, even if he secretly hates it. He’s more open with his affection, freely grabbing you or touching you or leaning into his space. Everything about him just amplifies, suddenly enough to leave you dizzy; you fluster under the attention.

hi.

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munson-blurbs · 29 days

Text

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Apologies were in order when Eddie's true whereabouts were revealed, but would a rainy evening bring forgiveness or an even harsher storm? (4.6k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, misunderstanding, anxiety, self-deprication, parental conflict, poverty, jealousy, brief touching, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter eight: mind your own business

A simple conversation changed everything.

Admittedly, it was not your conversation, but one you had eavesdropped on.

You had turned in the final exam for your Experimental Psych class, ruminating over any possible wrong answers as soon as your paper touched the pile on your professor’s desk. Did you get an abnormal amount of Cs in the multiple-choice section? Were your short answers detailed enough?

And then you overheard two guys talking in the hall, one sounding like he’d just chain-smoked a carton of cigarettes.

“Dude, what the fuck happened to your voice?”

“Lost it at a concert the other night. Totally worth it, though.”

“What concert?”

“Death’s Echo.”

You froze, hoping your sudden stop didn’t draw any attention to you. Death’s Echo had a concert? Where was it? Is that where Eddie was on Monday night?

Potential exam mistakes forgotten, you strode over to the guys on a quest for information. “Excuse me.” Your lips curved into your best customer service smile. “Did you say you saw Death’s Echo?”

The hoarse-voiced one nodded. “Yeah, why? You like them?” His eyes narrowed in assessment; you clearly didn’t embody his expectations of a punk music fan. A fair enough judgment, because you certainly weren’t.

“Where did they play?” You pressed, ignoring his question.

“Webster Hall,” he coughed, and his buddy laughed at his apparent pain. “You listen to them?”

“Yup,” you lied easily, not wanting to stick around and have him find out why a “fan” didn’t even know about a local gig. “Um, feel better!” You hurried out of the building, head spinning with this newfound knowledge.

Webster Hall. It was just over an hour to get there, which meant that the concert must have started late; a practice not unheard of for more up-and-coming bands. The prime time slots went to the headliners who brought in the most money.

If Eddie had gone to the concert on Monday, why wouldn’t he tell you? Did he think you’d be angry? Disappointed?

Or maybe he just didn’t want you to know he was blowing off work for a concert, you reasoned, and your opinion beyond that is irrelevant.

Should you ask him about it tonight? Could you? He might hole himself up in his room, ignoring your knocks and only coming out after your shift.

Maybe that was for the best.

His harsh words from last night continued rattling around your brain, barely taking a reprieve during the test. Honestly, you were grateful you wrote down actual psychological terminology instead of I am a total hypocrite over and over until self-deprecation filled the pages.

Tomorrow was your last official day of your undergraduate career, your own personal deadline for confessing the truth to your parents, and yet you were no closer to being ready than you were when you first made that silent promise.

The problem spun a web woven from neurons and synapses, its delicate threads slowly taking over your mind and catching the most daunting tasks.

NYU Essay revisions Graduation The motel Eisen’s Eddie

Too much. It was all too much, but you couldn’t shake them from their entrapment. You wanted to squeeze your eyes shut and only open them once everything had been resolved.

You had a fleeting thought of boarding the bus and remaining seated as it rolled past the motel, leaving it all behind and reclaiming your sanity. Running away was always an option, in theory; realistically, you would be overwrought with guilt before the bus made it to the next stop.

What you’d once considered loyalty was now stained with splotches of cowardice.

Maybe one day, you would be able to see yourself the way you wanted to be seen: as a trailblazer, a go-getter, a woman in pursuit of her dreams.

Today was not that day.

Rain streamed down from the clouds in thick sheets as though compensating for the week’s idle threats of stormy weather. It pelted against the motel’s windows like a steady drumbeat that wouldn’t be drowned out by your clock radio cranked up to its maximum volume.

Darkness loomed in the night sky, heavier than usual. Wind accompanied the rain, jostling the power lines and making the lights flicker.

If the electricity went out tonight…

You couldn’t finish that thought, not when the front door swung open to reveal Eddie, drenched from head to toe. His curls clung to his forehead, his cheeks, the back and sides of his neck; his chest heaved beneath a faded Black Sabbath t-shirt that was saturated with rainwater.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, unmoving and catching his breath.

This was your chance to apologize. To admit what you know—what you might know. The timing of the Death’s Echo concert could have been a coincidence, but your intuition told you it wasn’t.

Another awkward smile that didn’t reach his eyes, a tentative “hey,” and he was trudging past you without attempting to stop.

Opportunity went as quickly as it came. Every word you had planned had been scrambled like a tornado swept through your brain and left gibberish-laden debris.

The version of you that had confidently confronted him about smoking pot a few weeks ago would have scoffed at the way you failed to utter a simple apology. But this was much more complex.

Eddie’s forgiveness—if he forgave you—was only half of the battle. His blatantly false accusations about your work ethic had cut too deep to ignore.

Did he really think that little of you? Or was that his own defensiveness rearing its ugly head and taking over?

Then came a cry from down the hall.

“Of fuckin’ course!” Eddie boomed loud enough to be heard beyond his closed door. “Goddammit!”

You abandoned the desk, grabbing your essay papers and bolting to his room. He was at the window, violently pushing down on the pane, but it remained open. The shirt he’d been wearing earlier laid right next to the door as though he’d peeled it off as soon as he stepped into the room.

Your eyes landed on the dusting of hair that was now plastered to his pecs, another effect from the weather, the soft brown tendrils partially obscured by his demon head tattoo.

This wasn’t the first time you’d seen him bare-chested. The night he had arrived, he answered your knock in only his Calvin Klein boxers. He was wearing Fruit of the Loom tonight, the elastic waistband exposed from the weight of his rain-sodden jeans.

Heat burned in your belly, a sensation you hadn’t experienced in a long while.

“Little help?” Eddie grunted impatiently, and you nodded, tossing the essay onto his nightstand among a sea of his own handwritten papers.

Had he caught you staring?

He moved over, bringing both of his hands to the right side so you could press both of yours to the left. The combined force was enough to smack it closed, the resulting burst of wind sending the papers airborne. They floated to the ground, paragraph-laden parachutes, but all you could focus on was the patch of carpet beneath you. It was completely soaked, visibly darker where the rain had seeped in, and it squelched under your sneakers.

“I’ll grab towels.” You started towards the door, pausing to scoop up a sheet of looseleaf that had landed near your feet. It was obviously Eddie’s; his was not as meticulously curated as yours, full of scratch-outs and barely legible, but the words you could make out were enough to pique your interest.

Want what I can’t have

She’s got me mixed fucked mixed up

You couldn’t read any more of it without him noticing, and you certainly did not want to get caught snooping after upsetting him, so you placed it on the bed as casually as you could.

There were extra towels stored in the supply closet, and you jogged back to the lobby, mentally calculating how many you’d need to sop up the mess. Taking as many as you could carry, you perched your chin atop the oversized pile and lumbered into Eddie’s room, dropping them to the ground.

To your dismay, he had put on a new shirt, but it did nothing to temper your thoughts of running your fingertips over his inked skin.

The air was now rife with the scent of burning tobacco, the cigarette between Eddie’s lips already smoked halfway to the filter.

“Thanks.” It was muffled and gruff, hardly an olive branch, but it was enough to tug the corners of your mouth in a tepid smile.

You wanted to stay, wanted to ask about what he had been writing, but Eddie snatched up your essay papers from where they’d scattered before you could ask. He shoved them towards you, leaving the edges creased where they crinkled under his grip.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t vandalize them,” he sneered. A gray cloud whorled from his lips as he spoke, but it didn’t hide his sarcastic grin.

You steeled your gaze and forced yourself to look just above the glowing ember and into his eyes. “I’m sorry.” You let your apology float downwards, watching for any indication of a softening expression, but he remained tense.

“You didn’t even bother asking where I was,” he spit.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, less abrasive this time. “I assumed...because you were so mean to Ben…” Any further explanation felt too much like an excuse, so you left the sentence unfinished.

Eddie’s chest deflated slightly, his bravado extinguished. He’d been expecting a fight, you realized.

You refused to give him one.

“Were you at Webster Hall?” Your voice deliberately turned up at the end, careful to pose it as a question rather than a declaration. Certainly not as an accusation.

Eddie flinched, his forefinger and thumb quickly pinching his cigarette to keep it from falling. “What?”

“Monday night,” you said. You pushed your right foot into the mound of towels, hit with a sudden bout of antsiness. “Was your errand seeing Death’s Echo play at Webster Hall?”

He said nothing, just looked at you. Really looked at you, assessing whether or not you deserved to know the truth.

The admission came out gradually, as if it was being met with resistance, pulled from a place so deep he had forgotten its existence.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Eddie took another drag from his cigarette. He held the smoke in his lungs until forced out with a cough. “Wanted to hear how they sounded with their new, ah, frontman.”

Lower lip tucked snugly beneath your front teeth, you nodded. “And how did they sound?”

“Great. Really fuckin’ great.” His wry smile held more sadness than amusement. “Better than when I was with them.”

Your heart lurched. Without thinking, you reached out and took his hand, giving it just a little squeeze before letting go. “I know that’s not true,” you said. “I heard you playing on Sunday, and you’re good, Eddie. Not just anyone could pull off playing Metallica without an amp, but you did.”

You wished he could see himself from your perspective, see the man whose talent was too vast for a dingy subway station, whose music deserved to be heard by sold-out crowds at The Garden.

Eddie didn’t agree, but he didn’t disagree, either. His face remained neutral, and given the circumstances, you considered that a win.

“I can work tonight. Hang the new wallpaper.” A lightning-speed subject change, but you were becoming accustomed to seamlessly shifting tracks to follow his train of thought. “I’ll be back out as soon as I finish this.” He lifted the cigarette to his mouth again and you nodded, closing the door behind you.

Part of you expected him not to return. If his brain worked like yours, he would overthink the conversation, replaying it over and over until he’d wrung out all the positives and left it saturated with the negatives. He’d opt to stay in his room and smoke out his pack, leaving the wallpaper job unfinished. But you heard the door hinge creak and his footsteps pattering into the lobby.

One thousand words flooded your brain to form myriad sentences, from a joking long time, no see to a much more serious who were you writing about?

Ben thought Eddie had feelings for you, ones that stretched past the platonic confines. But he’d only met him once, briefly. He didn’t really know him.

Want what I can’t have She’s got me mixed up

Did you really know him?

Eddie had an endless list of things he couldn’t have, which often was the case for people facing poverty. As for the girl who had him mixed up, you couldn’t narrow that down, either. The only women you’d seen him interact with were Phyllis (an unlikely muse, but it wouldn’t be the most bizarre case of unrequited love you’d ever heard of), your mom (again, not likely), and you.

There was no doubt you had him mixed up. Maybe even fucked up, as he’d written and crossed out. But had you had enough of an effect on him to warrant poetry or song lyrics–

Song lyrics.

It all clicked into place: The band; more specifically, the drummer who happened to be his ex-girlfriend. He’d gone to see them play. He could have spoken to her, and maybe realized that a spark was still present. A real spark, not whatever pathetic flicker you might have felt that night when he’d held your hand as you removed wallpaper, or when you’d exchanged gentle touches after his unfortunate wasp’s nest encounter, or when he’d loomed over you in the subway car and a delicate dip in your belly made itself known.

You decided that this explanation, the one in which you had little to no involvement, held the most logic. His inspiration was his past love–potentially his current love–and your argument was a mere distraction from a much more complicated situation.

A natural silence fell over the lobby, a healing balm over the wound you’d taken turns picking at and reopening. It was the perfect setting to finish editing your essay, and yet you found the task impossible. Any threatening grammatical errors paled in comparison to the slight movements of Eddie’s back muscles, visible through his white cotton shirt as he smoothed down the wallpaper panels.

The pronounced flex of his tricep as he drove the paper cutter above the moldings with utter precision.

The soft grunt that escaped his lips as he pressed on his thighs to stand up and admire his handiwork.

You didn’t know how long you’d been staring at him before the slamming front door snapped you out of it.

“L-Looks good,” you managed, throat suddenly bone-dry.

Eddie crossed his arms, took a small step back, and nodded. Wide brown eyes scoured the wall for any uneven edges or unglued seams, his lips pursed in concentration. “Not my best work but, uh, it’ll do.” He smirked at you, then jutted his chin to your left.

A middle-age man stood beside the desk, rainwater dripping off of the slope of his nose. He held an umbrella, turned inside out and rendered useless by the wind.

“Sign out front says ‘vacancy.’” He grumbled and swiped at his bushy eyebrows, revealing a sliver of beer gut when he raised his arm. “Just need a room for the night.”

“Mhm, of course.” You found your footing with a polite smile and collected the stranger’s money, just as you always had, just as you were supposed to. Because you were at work, and that was your job–not watching Eddie hang wallpaper.

As you scanned the wall behind you for a key, a warm whisper tickled your ear, breath tinged with a smoky aroma. A shiver reflexively wiggled down your spine as Eddie spoke, your body unused to this level of proximity.

“Put him away from my room. He looks like a snorer.”

You tucked your lips into your mouth to stifle your laughter. Eddie was right; you weren’t quite sure what it was about the man, but he did look like he snored. Loudly.

You meant to look over your paper after your shift, but sleep was too seductive to resist. Just one more day, one more final exam, and then you were done. At least until August.

Summer stretched before you, and though you would still be spending nights behind the desk, your days were wide open.

Days that might be spent alongside Eddie.

There was no formal apology from him last night, a fact that nagged at you throughout the bus ride to school and prevented you from looking past the first page of your essay. That, and the burdens of shame both you and Eddie carried: yours from the blatantly wrong accusation, his from…what, exactly? Why was he embarrassed to tell you where he’d been?

The wound was still too raw last night to press on it, to ask further questions; instead, you kept the conversation light and airy. The only foray into dangerous territory came from Eddie himself when he asked about the vandalism at Eisen’s. You couldn’t answer fast enough before clumsily pivoting the discussion to the warming weather.

And maybe it was your inner people pleaser that craved reconciliation, needed it to unfurl and bloom like a budding rose, that lowered your guard and bade you to talk with him. But people-pleasing didn’t explain the warmth that crept through your body, lazily winding through your veins, when he laughed at your jokes.

That laugh–the gentle nose scrunch it evoked, the lightheartedness it exuded, how it chiseled away at the remaining iciness between you. It was all you thought about that night, your heart relaxing as the friendship was no longer in limbo.

But when you got to class and flipped through your essay one last time, that newfound homeostasis meant nothing. Yes, there were ten pages present and ready to be stapled, but unless your conclusion focused on angsty song lyrics, you were missing the final page.

Dread’s chill pricked at you, followed by an overbearing wash of heat. The granola bar you’d scarfed down threatened to make a reappearance.

Stupid. How could I have been so careless? All I had to do was check before I left home, but I was too busy thinking about Eddie to do the bare minimum.

It was a bad dream; you’d wake up and find yourself in bed with your full essay safely stored in your bag. All you had to do was wake up and page ten would be a continuation of psychological development in infancy.

Your eyes opened hopefully, but you were still in the classroom, and the page still beared Eddie’s sloppy scrawl:

I’m the castle She’s the queen Can’t be a king I’m too obscene

The lyrics a few lines down stopped mid-sentence:

Crushed beneath a broken dream Failed to launch now I

You were wasting precious time. If you left now, you could probably make it home and back before the professor left. You’d have to fork over the money for a dollar cab and forgo your afternoon coffee, but it was a sacrifice you needed to make.

Stupid stupid stupid—

Your name being called drew you from your pit of self-loathing. It wasn’t Nora; the voice was too masculine and too far away for it to come from beside you.

It was someone with the same name. Just a coincidence.

And then you heard it again. Loud enough so it echoed down the hall, but not frantic. And yet your heart fluttered in your chest.

Eddie.

There was no way; he couldn’t be—

You squeezed past Nora and thundered towards the door, trying to quell your hopes before they rose too high.

But there he stood, sweat pasting his hair to his forehead. His chest heaved beneath a white cotton undershirt that was tight around the biceps. Deep brown eyes lit up when he spotted you in the doorway, his lips curving in a triumphant smile.

“I have your paper!” Sure enough, your conclusion paragraph was clenched in his calloused hand.

You could have cried with relief. Fueled by gratefulness and residual adrenaline, you flung your arms around him. Your hands found his back muscles; at first tensed, almost reflexively, but quickly relaxed. The paper crinkling between your torsos jarred you out of the moment, and you took a step back before he could return the gesture—if he even would have.

“Sorry, I…” Words suddenly evaded you, eviscerated by the musky scent of his deodorant. He didn’t appear to be uncomfortable, all soft doe eyes and lazy grins from his unlikely heroism, but…still. Your relationship now teetered between employee and friend, and you couldn’t afford to knock it off-balance. “How did you get here so fast? And how did you find me?”

Eddie exhaled a chuckle. “Took a cab. And when I got here, I asked every other person where the psychology classes were.”

“You walked from where the dollar cab dropped you off?” How many blocks was that? No wonder he was sweating.

His cheeks, already flushed from exertion, tinged a deeper shade of pink. “N-No, I, um…it was a regular cab.”

Sheer disbelief widened your eyes. He must have dipped into his meager savings to shell out the money for an actual cab, putting him even farther behind in his journey home.

“I…” There were one thousand ways to finish your sentence.

I can pay you back.

I can’t believe you did this for me.

I am so sorry I ever doubted your character.

I wish we’d hugged just a moment longer.

You finally settled on a string of words that required no courage at all, just a genuine thankful smile. “I have your lyrics. Let me turn in my paper and I’ll grab them for you.”

Eddie’s timid expression shifted into one of amusement. “Shit, yeah,” he said with a laugh. “Was wondering where those went.”

Opportunity splayed out in front of you, tempting you to ask him about the woman who had him mixed up. Every cell in your body ached to know if she was the same queen he’d placed on a royal pedestal, unattainable despite his valiant efforts.

Was it fear or politeness that held your tongue? You weren’t supposed to see the lyrics in the first place; how could you justify your questions? Sorry I read your innermost thoughts without permission, but could I pick your brain about them?

Any doubts about your intentions were confirmed when he took the page from you, cocked his head, and asked: “What’d you think?”

There it was. Your opening. You could see it, practically touch it, your fingertips brushing the chance to admit that the songs’ mysterious inspiration gnawed at you—

But then he might ask why you wanted to know. And, quite honestly, you lacked the energy to figure it out for yourself. The desire was too strong to be nosiness, too personal to be gossip.

Not to mention the inexplicable sourness that burned your esophagus when you’d considered the high probability that he’d written them about his ex-girlfriend.

“Really good,” you managed. “I can’t wait for the finished product.”

Coward.

“Me, too,” he agreed with a laugh. “I’m sure the folks at the train station are dying to hear it.”

“The rats’ll give you a standing ovation.”

He snickered. “My biggest fans.”

A hand squeezing yours prevented you from getting lost in the slight dimple that appeared when he smiled. Nora now stood beside you, expression innocuous to Eddie or any other man, but her dark brown eyes silently asked, are you okay?

I’m fine, you replied with a squeeze of your own, grateful for someone who swooped in seeing you with a man she didn’t know.

“Nora, this is Eddie,” you introduced her. “He’s–he’s my friend who’s been helping us out around the motel. Eddie, this is Nora, best friend and study buddy extraordinaire.”

“Ahh, Wallpaper Boy.” Nora furrowed a brow. “You go to school here?”

Eddie cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. “No, I…she left her paper, so…” He trailed off as though embarrassed by his chivalry.

“So now she can graduate!” Nora wrapped you in an embrace so tight that you briefly worried about your shoulder dislocating. She leaned in knowingly, her tone teasing with an air of seriousness. “And keep me company at the ceremony, right?”

You rolled your eyes, acutely aware that Eddie was watching the entire interaction. The last thing you wanted was attention drawn to the fact that you weren’t attending graduation. “Maybe,” was all you said, and Nora left it at that.

There was an awkward beat before anyone spoke again, and it was Eddie who eventually filled the silence. “Heading home now?” He asked you, already starting towards the building’s doors.

“No, I’m going to Eisen’s. I promised Ben that I’d help clean the graffiti.” You braced yourself for a volatile reaction, or at least something akin to annoyance, but his response was more surprising than any snarky remark.

“I’ll come with.”

Cocking a disbelieving brow, you did your best to keep your tone free of judgment. You were waiting for the gotcha, but you couldn’t let him know that. “Seriously?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, why not? I’ve got the day free, and I have some…expertise in graffiti removal.” He relented with a shrug when you and Nora exchanged curious glances, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “My trailer got hit a time or twelve back in the day. The tragic life of a Satan-worshiping freak, y’know?”

“But I bet the vandalizers were upstanding citizens.”

“Keys to the city and everything.” Eddie stuck out his hand, palm up, and you could see the details etched into his pale skin. Calluses decorated the pads of his fingers; you’d assumed they were mostly from guitar playing, but now you could add physical labor to their origins. He looked down at his hand, then back at you. “Shall we?”

Your own hands were suddenly slick with anxious perspiration, like a middle school student on her first-ever date. Even that juvenile scenario held more significance than this—two friends scrubbing down a hardware store was a far cry from the Sandra Brown romance novels you secretly devoured in high school.

And yet, you felt it—that soft electricity that crackled through your whorls of fingerprints when you slid your palm against his, the jolt of energy as he tugged you forward and laced his fingers with yours. If he noticed the nervousness that embarrassing seeped from your pores, he didn’t mention it.

Nora, ever astute, excused herself with a story about not wanting to miss the bus, but not before whispering in your ear, “he’s cute.” An approval that would almost certainly be followed up with a phone call later to discuss the fine details of the afternoon’s escapades.

There are no ‘escapades,’ you reminded yourself. You’re removing graffiti, not embarking on a Parisian vacation.

Eddie led the way until he reached the building’s doors, blinking as his eyes once again adjusted to the sunlight. “I, uh, I have no idea where we’re going.”

You laughed at his candor. “Follow me.”

It was an opportunity to break the grasp, to unleash the anxiety that threatened to cleave you and Eddie back into two separate pieces. He was dangerous because he was temporary; if you allowed him in even farther than you already had—beyond the confines of friendship—his inevitable departure would destroy you.

Let go. Let go. Let. Go.

And yet you kept holding on, adjusting only to take the lead. Eddie’s thumb brushed against yours, pausing just at the knuckle to press down in subtle acknowledgment.

Hi.

You pressed back with an accompanying smile.

Hi.

This time when you reached the subway station, you both jumped the turnstile.

taglist (now closed ♥):

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icanseethefuture333 · 10 months

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PAC: Urgent messages from your shadow self 🕷🕸🖤

Please leave a tip if you can $$$

Trigger warning: These tarot cards contain graphic content (gore, syringes, etc.) and in this pac there is mentions of trauma, substance abuse, inner child wounds, etc. The tone of the words will also sound blunt because the shadow self is brutally honest. Viewer discretion is advised.

Pile 1:

Beautiful Liar by Beyoncé & Shakira

Special by Ashnikko

Black Swan by BTS

Four of Fire, Two of Air, & Daughter of Air.

(Clarified by Adjustment)

Your shadow self wants to urge you to find balance within yourself and your life. Perhaps you are someone who is constantly juggling with tasks, hobbies, or responsibilities. You are being a "jack of all trades, but a master of none". You don't know how to multitask and yet you are still trying to do it - why? You are overwhelming yourself. Take smaller steps vs trying to finish everything all at once. You are making yourself sink into this hole of frustation on your own. In the future, you will just make things more difficult if you persist in this charade of yours. Your shadow self is giving you a kick in the butt because you rely too much on charm when you mess up or to get away shit. Also your "white lies" could turn into big lies. If you needed a job per say, this behavior could have you looked down and be seen as unprofessional. There's a lot of visuals regarding the circus. Such as the acrobats or fire tamers. You are talented and witty. Use your wits to find ways to accomplish your goals. I am also being reminded of the scene from Mulan where she unsheaths her swords and you can see her reflection. Perhaps you have a duality to yourself that you are unaware of. You need to look into the lightness and darkness of your soul. What are your light or shadow attributes? Your strengths or weaknesses? Think of what they are and write it down, then create a plan. Once you have decided what to do or how you can make better decisions. You will start to make progress in your journey. The girl is walking on a tightrope with a stick and bowls(?) on her head. This could mean you literally need to "tighten up" which is an expression of handling your business basically. There is birds flying behind her. Your spirit guides and higher self are supporting you as you walk towards your destiny. Be patient and grounded. You will feel proud of yourself in the end and feel grateful you learned this lesson. (Clarifying song: Libra by The Deli) You could be someone with Libra placements or you need to surround yourself with people that are this sign. This could also mean embodying the traits of Libra. They are known for their balance, diplomacy, fairness, friendliness, & charm.

Pile 2:

Assassin by Au/Ra

Cellophane by FKA Twigs

Go To Sleep by Bearson ft. Kailee Morgue

Five of Water (reversed), Seven of Air, & Son of Earth

(Clarified by The Magus (reversed).)

Tsk tsk. You're self sabotaging. What's going on, pile 2? I feel like you're trying to get over past disappointments but things keep crumbling and falling apart in your very eyes. You could be dealing with depression right now or you're avoiding the world because of this fear of yours. You could be laying in bed a lot or sleeping more than usual to cope. Some of you could have gotten rejected by someone you really liked and are thinking the worse as if it's the end of your love life. There's over 8 billion people in the world, it's not the end unless you act like it is. There could be so much abundance ahead of you if you would just stopped being so inconsistent and indecisive. Reflect as to why you're afraid, why are you self sabotaging, why are letting your life past you by when there's a whole world out there ready to be explored? (Clairifying song: NO PROBLEM by Nayeon ft Felix of Stray Kids) Whatever you dealt with is not happening to you right now. You survived baby. Sometimes it's good to be single because you can focus on putting that love towards your own heart. Try to focus on having fun vs finding the "one". You'd be surprised by how many people will be knocking at your door when you realize how much of a catch you are. Also stop comparing yourself to people on social media. Learn to see past people's illusions and understand they only post the positives of what's going on their life because they're scared of being vulnerable or seen as a failure. You are gonna do just fine if you focus on your own happiness.

Pile 3:

Dëserve It by Yeat

I'm Not Sorry by imagine Dragons

Element. by Kendrick Lamar

Three of Earth, Eight of Water, & The Universe

(Clarified by The Fool)

You usin' work and self achievements to cope huh? You're always working so hard to accomplish things, but have you ever took a minute to realize that you are already accomplished even if you don't succeed? (Clarifying song: No L's by Smino) Why do you always need to win? What's so bad about losing? Loss can be scary, but it can teach us valuable lessons in life as well. You fear of being seen unsuccessful, a failure. You don't want to be the gossip in your town, at your job, or family functions. Everything you do, you just work and work. You not addressing the problems in your life. What are you working for? You have money, you have trophies, you have awards, you have a long list of achievements, you have your own place, but that is not healing you. Your valuables are just things. They are not fulfilling you emotionally or mentally. For some of you, you need to stop being a doormat just for the sake of a paycheck or being provided for. This could be someone at your job, school, etc, who is stressing you. Your shadow self wants to tell you to not let anyone make you act out of character but it also gives you permission to put a bitch in check and in their place if needed to. Start setting boundaries. You need to start treating yourself with love and care as if you were a baby. You deserve to be taken care of. Nurture your soul. Nurture your heart. Nurture your mind. If you're not protecting yourself then what is the point? Don't fall into the system of being a worker bee or give into hustling and grinding culture, to the point it's gonna harm your health.

Pile 4:

UNFUCKWITTABLE by Stunna Girl

Team by Iggy Azalea

Player by Tinashe

Ace of Water, Mother of Water, & Eight of Earth

(Clarified by The Star)

Okay so I had to reshuffle for this pile because I didn't take a picture of the first cards I got so I had to redo this, so this is the last spread I finished out of all the other piles. What's interesting is that since it's getting dark I had to turn on my led mirror and use it as a lamp. It was illuminating a light onto The Star card, which I find interesting. A wish fulfillment is on its way. You guys could be manifesting something or reciting affirmations in the mirror. In the song, Stunna Girl keeps saying "I'm a stunner girl" repeatedly, stunner means to be "a strikingly beautiful or impressive person or thing". Stunna Girl has also went viral and become more popular after appearing on the show "Baddies West". You could be growing into your confidence soon and learning to love yourself unconditionally and unapologetically. You could even become more popular or go viral on social media. For some of you, you are healing generational trauma for your female ancestors. They are so proud of you! Or you could come from a family with a lot of powerful, strong, independent women. In a patriarchal society, a woman who is outspoken, knows her worth, and is self assured, is looked down upon because they are less easy to humble and manipulate. Insecure men could paint you as a "bitch" or that you look "mid", to try to humble you when that is just lies. You need to know that you're a bad bitch and that you deserve the best. Your shadow self wants you to stand tf UP! Stop giving a fuck about what other people want you to do or think of you. Make them uncomfortable with your glow up. The women in your family worked and yourself as well have worked too god damn hard for you to sit on your ass and wallow in your tears. You are smart enough, you are strong enough, you are pretty enough, you are ENOUGH. Straighten up your spine and fix your posture. Walk into the room as if you own it. I don't care if you just rolled out of bed with a pair of stained sweatpants and dirty Chuck Taylor's on, you better rock it as if it's designer. Your shadow self will back hand your ass harder than Maddy slapped Cassie from Euphoria if you keep getting in your head and overthinking about shit that's not even that serious. Also, you can have anybody you want, if somebody is stressing you out - Drop their ass and move on. You deserve to be treated like royalty. Stop settling for dust! For some of you, this message could be specific, but your mother is very proud of you or you will be set free from a mother wound. You need to read a book (48 Laws of Power and The Art of Seduction for example) or head to the books if you are a student. Also in your love life, you will not be getting played anymore, but you will be the player (not talking about breaking people's hearts or cheating, calm down Karen 😮‍💨). You will stop chasing love interests and they will be chasing you. Secure attachment for the win 💪🏽. (Clarifying song: Eat It Up by Kaliii ft. BIA). Eat this shit up, pile 4. All this is yours. You are gonna be living your best life soon. NSFW message but some of you will also feel more pleasure in your sex life and will feel more confident about demanding what you want in the bedroom. People will live to please you. There is a lot of fertility here, so be careful if you are able to get pregnant.

Pile 5:

For The Record by Sophiya

Up All Night by Drake ft. Nicki Minaj

Energy by Beyoncé ft. BEAM

Father of Fire, Four of Air (reversed), & Nine of Water (reversed)

(Clarified by Seven of Fire)

You have a lot of passion, pile 5, but you seem to get burnt out easily when it comes to trying to achieve your desires. There is a goal that you are reaching towards that you so desperately wish to achieve to the point its keeping you up at night and causing you to feel restless. Some of you could smoke, you need to cut that down or quit all togerher because it is making your nerves really bad or making you even more anxious (could cause you to age physically faster as well). Some of you could have been ghosted by someone you fell in love with pretty quickly. Possible love bombing? There is a lot of highs and lows in this relationship. Is this a friends with benefits situation? You could have a crush on someone but you are too afraid to state your feelings, so you use your sex appeal to keep them around. You need to voice what you are wanting out of this relationship because this flame will only last so long if you keep going this way. (Clarifying song: My Strange Addiction by Billie Ellish) there is so much about "fire", "lighters", "matches", "fuses", and "smoke" being mentioned in this pile. Are you guys pyromaniacs 😂? I would hope not, if you are please seek help for that lol. If not, you guys could be drawn to the "fire" as in things that intentionally just burn you in the end. It's almost as if you get off to this toxic behavior but then when it ends, you act unstable. You need to find the courage to stop engaging in behaviors that are bad for your mental, emotional, or physical health. Also be brave when expressing your needs in a relationship, if they agree then maybe you can work it out, if not, then it's time to leave. Some of you also could have an anxious attachment or have a fear of abandonment due to a absent father. You need to do shadow work or talk with a therapist to heal that. Learn to find emotional fulfillment and security within yourself.

Pile 6:

Skinnydipped by Banks

Don't Recall by KARD

Sober by Mahalia

Are you overcoming an addiction, Pile 6? Or wanting to go sober? Either way, I commend you for the strength in wanting to do so, since I know that isn't easy. This could also mean your shadow self wants you to quit doing drugs or drinking alcohol because it is making you act manic. I feel like you were treated harshly growing up or you were left with the "vultures". You could have been neglected growing up and had to learn to survive. You could of used maldaptive daydreaming to cope. Your fantasies gave you comfort in a time of stress and turmoil. I'm so sorry for that, pile 6, but you have to understand you no one is out to get to you. You can choose a new story for yourself. You dont have to be a victim anymore. You are free to start a new life for yourself. Some of you came from abusive households or were put in the system at a young age (either you were adopted or was in foster care). You could have lived in multiple places or went from house to house as a child. Did you run away as a kid? Why were you running, sweetheart? You can stop running now, take a new route. Just peacefully go towards your new journey. There is no need to rush. (Clarifying song by Come Down by Anderson .Paak & They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y) by Pete Rock & C.L Smooth) October is significant for some of you. There is going to be growth and prosperity in your life. You need to take time to nurture yourself and practice some self care. I heard "sprout" so you need to look inwards and have a conversation with your inner child. Can you remember your childhood? Do your memories seem blurry or you can't recall anything that happened? Be kind to yourself and be patient. I know it can seem nerve wracking at first but overtime you will be grateful you did it. Think of your younger self as this seed, if no one watered the plant, gave it sunlight or natural light, or fed it with fertilizer, then you can be the first to make that seed grow. Tend to your garden. This will help you build character and gain optimism. You will start to think "Hey, you know what? Maybe life isn't so bad. Maybe I can be a somebody!" And you will :) ♡ You could also be feeling very nostalgic or reminisce your youth. People could also see your growth and remember as a kid, they are going to be surprised how successful you've become to overcome your hardships. Also try to seek the professional help of a therapist or counselor if you try to unpack childhood trauma, or if you can't remember your past, it can be a sign your brain is possibly blocking you out from remembering something traumatic. Be safe and take care, pile 6 🙏🏽

Pile 7:

Run by SAAY

Monster by EXO

Just A Girl by No Doubt

Nine of Fire, Five of Air, & The Empress (reversed).

(Clarifidd by Son of Water)

Oh my 😃! Wow pile 7, do you hold a grudge against the entire male population or a masculine in mind, it seems? You are acting mad bitter. I feel you have the tendecy to be a misandrist out of the trauma from your past. You feel angry that men can get away with their wrong doings while women are forced to suffer. Ironically, you are still attracted to them. You could be struggling with your divine feminine energy. You are also resenting what it means to be a "feminine". You wish to create this on your own terms. Are you apart of the LGBTQ? or consider yourself a feminist? Maybe even both? If you are someone who is a man or identifies with masculine energy, it could mean you behave feminine in a negative way (as in you "nag" or are too "sensitive"). This also reminds me of Jules in season 2 of Euphoria when she cut her hair, started wearing black, and began to feel comfortable in her androgynous style. Some of you guys are really mixed up emotionally and mentally. Like no offense, I take that back, your shadow self wants to say "full offense" - you are acting crazy. Slow down, take a deep breath, and let it go. You are valid in your pain and your emotions, but you cannot let this world make you bitter. You can't inflict pain onto other people just because you were hurt. You are not a monster, you are not the person who hurt you. Do better and be better than them. (Clarifying song: Close Your Eyes by Kim Petras & The Hills (remix) by The Weeknd ft. Nicki Minaj) I am being reminded of the scene from Doja Cat's Streets music video when she was like this spider crawling on it's web, catching their "prey" (the love interest). You are like a black widow. Beautiful to admire from afar, but dangerous to interact with up close. There is someone who is head over heels for you. You could like this person or are pushing them away out of fear. You could be the type of person who warns people before they fall in love with you (Watch the movie "It's A Thin Line Beyween Love & Hate"). You could have even sworn to never love again (Your shadow self: "bffr" 💀). You need to harness this hatred, anger, and darkness for a better cause. Use your pain as a passion to transform yourself and become someone magnificent. Like a spider, you are resourceful. Use your sources and use your intelligence to begin this new transformation. You're lashing out of fear. You're pushing people away because of your trauma. You deserve to be treated tenderly, you're not some scary creature. You are actually so empathetic, intuitive, creative, sensual, and enticing. A mystery that people want to unravel. You are a going to be a femme fatale in it's purest form.

Pile 8:

By Any Means by Jorja Smith

Feelings by Tinashe

Human by Sevdaliza

Five of Fire, Nine of Air, & The Moon

(Clarified by The Hierophant)

Pile 8, why are you ripping yourself apart to fit into society's pressures and demands? When will you realize that you are beautiful in your own way? I remember when Kendrick Lamar said: "If a flower bloomed in a dark room would you trust it?". Not every flower grows in the sunlight or the spring or the summer. Some grow during the harsh, cold weather of the winters or when everything falls in autumn. You are in competition with no one but yourself and you are not going to win this game if you treat yourself like shit. If you wanna be a winner, then you need to start acting like one vs acting like a sore loser. When things go wrong, you are so unnecessarily rude and hard on yourself. Why is that? Ask yourself these things next time you catch yourself thinking that way. You're not anything of the mean things you say about yourself or what people have said to you. You struggle with your insecurities and cling to what gives you comfort even though you know you want better than this, you want better than what you are currently doing. Why do you stick to the same routine everyday even though you know you want change? Sometimes you have to be uncomfortable so you can be comfortable. You may compare your beauty to other people but you need to realize no one is perfect. You are human, as the song goes. A human with "flaws, veins, scars". Embrace your imperfections. You don't want to look back at your past and regret you never took action on anything because you weren't "pretty" enough. Look past your appearance and look inside. (Life Goes On by BTS) What are you are clinging to, pile 8? Are you holding onto something? You're holding sanding at this point and it's slipping through your fingers, you are stuck in this hour glass, wishing to be released. Time keeps ticking and life passes you by. Break free from the perceptions of time and start living your life to the fullest without limitations, doubts, and fears. Life has its up and downs but you have to learn to find hope in dark times. Seek help from your shadow self or the universe when you are in need of faith. Trust the divine that things will always work out for you, no matter what.

Pile 9:

Let It Out by Rico Nasty

UCKERS by Shygirl

Ghetto Gatsby by Brent Faiyaz ft. Alicia Keys

Two of Love, Three of Air, & Eight of Water

(Clairifed by Ace of Air)

Time to end it with a bang 🤬🥊💥! Did you just go through a break up, pile 9? Whether it was with a friend or partner. You are internalizing a lot that happened from this relationship, honestly, you interalize everything. Your shadow self wants you to let out whatever you're feeling. Scream, shout, yell, etc. It is time to stop turning the other cheek and speak up. You also need to confront something or someone who hurt you. (Clarifying song: Fingers by Zayn & Roman's Revenge by Nicki Minaj ft. Eminem) Ugh this person is so LAMEEE 😒🙄 Once you finally get over this connection, they will want to come back and talk to you about what happened. You or this person could have been writing text messages but never sending them. This conversation will be your chance to gain clarity and communicate about how you felt in your relationship. This will help you move on and also allow you to learn to stand up for yourself.

#pac #pick a card #tarot #tarot readings #tarot reading #pick a pile #shadow work #shadow self #higher self #spirituality #healing #witchcraft #astrology #manifestation #manifest #wicca #18+ readings #18+ pac

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plutonianeris · 1 year

Text

‧₊˚ pick a pile‧₊˚✩embracing your alter ego⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓

this is a general reading & for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates and leave what doesn't. scroll through the images & choose based on your inner guidance and gut feeling. 🖤

PILE ONE 彡

🕯️energy you need to embody/ reflect on: aries, leadership, willpower, ANGER, turning points, epiphanies, destiny, fate, pallas, creativity, wisdom, venus, pleasure, love, art, money, 4th house, foundations, traditions, home, family, roots. 🔐 **note: i got a lot of libra/aries energy from this reading. if you know your birth chart maybe look at the houses that are in aries and libra. or if you have any aries/ libra placements do some more research on them 👀

your alter ego is someone that refuses to go down a dead end. if they get the slightest hint that someone isnt respecting their boundaries or treating them/ providing them with less than what they deserve they LEAVE. in order to embrace your alter ego you have to accept that you are in a state of metamorphosis 🦋 and push through to that next stage. rip that bandaid off and stop sitting there “crying over spilled milk” & your alter ego isnt having none of that. theyre the type to not let anyone seem them cry or sad (espeically the people that hurt them) and theyll if anything, dress up and fix their hair and strut like nothing happened. “I will always win in the end”

the person you are now isnt the same as who you were a couple months or even a year ago. you could have been a BIG people pleaser or scared of disappointing the people you love. the difference is now you are more sure of what you want and now your boundaries have become less shaky.

once you realize how fucking good it feels to love yourself your alter ego will bloom and you will take more risks and do all those things u were to afraid to do before. your alter ego reminds me of beyonces “sasha fierce” alter ego lol bc you will snap into it soon and it will help u get over that “stage fright”

i just heard“if you needed more time why didnt you make it?” your alter ego is someone who is bold, a risk taker, the first person to ask that question (and then break that rule), to wear the strange outfit. the first one to lean in for the kiss. your alter ego is an innovator, creative to no end (don’t worry if you aren’t inspired right now, you are the inspiration thats why you cant find it). its you. you are the muse, the canvas and the artist. your alter ego has harmonious relationships because they are very attractive, balanced, fair, fiery.

𓆩♱🤍₊˙ TIP JAR 🧸 ♡♱𓆪

PILE TWO 彡

🕯️energy you need to embody/ reflect on: compassion, dreams, confrontotation, disharmony, pleasure, love, trauma, wounds, health, routine, pets. note: i got a lot of pisces, scorpio/ pluto/ 10th house, and virgo energy from this reading. if you know your birth chart maybe look at the houses that are in these signs. or if you have any planets in these signs do some more research on them 👀

in order to embrace your alter ego you need to stop victimizing yourself, similar to pile one there is need to use past trauams as an excuse for staying the same in unhelful behaviors and self sabotaging habbits. you’re letting life happen to you and shrugging your shoulders saying “it what it is” or “I cant change the past” get UP! when you walk, walk with your head held up high. I heard “don’t let people step on you not even once or they’ll keep their foot there pressing against your neck, suffocating..” don’t be afraid to show teeth, whether its a smile or a snarl.

people have wronged you deeply, maybe in irreperable ways. thats okay if youre not the same person. i promise they didnt take anything from you. you are whole and complete on your own. what people are DEEPLY scared of is you realizing your power. I heard “what? did you think I was going to stay small and insecure forever?” people in your close relationships want you to be down bad when they are (misery loves company). in order to embrace your alter ego you need to take the wheel and take control.

your alter ego embodies boss ass energy. your alter ego is mysterious, intuitive, passionate, magnetic energy. the ultimate femme fatale. your alter ego doesn’t let any sly or snarky comment slide, doesn’t allow fake ass people in their circle (theres a vetting process to getting close to them), is deeply loyal and ambitious. your alter ego enters peoples lives and leaves them in awe and jealous and in love and also turned on lol. This is POWERFUL (and slighlty dangerous) energy but if you know how to balance well your alter ego can easily climb the ranks in whatever endeavor its interested in. your alter ego loves to be in control. they’re the ones who dress in all black or sexy clothing. they love to work out as well. they secretly love the pain and soreness later. 🔥

𓆩♱🤍₊˙ TIP JAR 🧸 ♡♱𓆪

PILE THREE 彡

🕯️energy you need to embody/ reflect on: conflict, tension, your calling, discomfort, challenge, destiny, appearance, physical body, character, first house, ninth house, long distance travel, morals, teachers, beliefs. note: i got a lot of pisces, sagittarius/ jupiter, gemini/ mercury energy from this reading. if you know your birth chart maybe look at the houses that are in these signs. or if you have any planets in these signs do some more research on them 👀

in order to embrace your alter ego you need to really work on your forms of communication (this pile gives off blocked throat chakra energy or some kind of harsh influence in your surrounding area that makes you feel like you to watch how you speak to the point where you dont speak up at all). you could have saturn in third house, squares/ oppositions to your mercury, or Capricorn or aquarius in your third house. the point is though, it has felt like when youre in groups theres so much conflict that youve spent so much time alone, that you believe you have to stay alone forever now.

youll find the people that will become like family to you but they will be of other backgrounds, religions, status, ethnicities or even in different states (possiblly entirely different countries). it makes sense considering your alter ego is philosophical, adventurous, flirty, fiesty, and very very very beautiful with a big smile and nice hips. a sight to behold to the eyes of the public. i heard “they talk shit about me to make themselves feel better” your alter ego is a heart breaker, people fall fast for there intoxicating personality and their big dreams. but in the blink of an eye theyre off to the next person or dream or adventure. i heard “ill mourn my losses on the way but im not gonna stop”

hey if you been thinking about booking that flight then maybe do it. or if you’re thinking about or make that vision board or buying those books on that occult topic you’ve bern interested in. your alter ego is determined, they wanna see the world and drink up all its beauty, delicacies, sights, rainbows, books, temples, slow and then fast kisses in the middle of sweaty and neon night clubs. they wanna feel it all. i just heard “im going to free my mind. just wanna remember all the good things” 💗

𓆩♱🤍₊˙ TIP JAR 🧸 ♡♱𓆪

PILE FOUR 彡

🕯️energy you need to embody/ reflect on: responsibilities, routines, self-worth, savings, sticking to your budget, investing, new moon energy (making wishes), shadow side, marriage, secret enemies, love, health, false notions of purity. note: i got a lot of pisces, libra/venus/ 7th house, virgo/ 6th house energy from this reading. if you know your birth chart maybe look at the houses that are in these signs. or if you have any planets in these signs do some more research on them 👀

pile four, I see you giving and giving and giving to others. whether it’s letting people borrow money or listening to them endlessly vent or being there for people that necessarily aren’t always there for you. I see you putting other people first and not necessarily the people please in the way pile one does. Because pile one does it but secretly doesn’t wanna do it. But you do it and think you have to do it and feel like it’s your responsibility to make sure that other people are okay. i just heard “im your hero, you see me as your angel” is there someone deeply depending on you right now? im sorry but they’re not your child. nurture yourself and your inner world. give yourself more credit now..

oopp, the song i was playing just said “i could use a vacation but i gotta take care of my family,… im so damn tired from working overtime” PLEASE😭 this pile is so sweet/ wholesoom🥺🥺🥺🥺 its really calling on you to be selfish. and unapologetically so. you don’t have to share everything. your feelings, your hobbies, your resources or time or money. your alter ego slams the door shut IN THE FACE OF ENERGY VAMPIRES.

your alter ego reminds me of a mermaid or something. just very MYSTICAL and elegant energy. your alter ego is well loved and seen as very wise but they stand tall like a queen/ king. people want to worship your alter ego. i heard “you have beautiful eyes” a lot of people cherish their advice and could do well in doing spiritual readings as well. your alter ego is kind but not nice. they see right through superficial bullshit. They dont care if they have to force you to behave, you will not take from them without asking. I just heard “I respect your opinion, but please don’t force it on me. accept we see things differently.”

𓆩♱🤍₊˙ TIP JAR 🧸 ♡♱𓆪

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agirlwithglam · 2 months

Note

Hi!! I hope I'm not disturbing you but I wanted to ask how do I work hard. Because when I was younger I got really good marks without trying and now the subjects are hard and social media is distracting but I can't seem to delete it. This is also why my grades are even low then before and I'm really afraid to disappoint my parents (being the eldest daughter doesn't help). So can you please just give me some pointers on how can I actually study and not just cry because I don't know how to. Have a great day!! <3

literally omg. is this past me asking me a question?? like actually u have no idea how much i relate and understand this. the "gifted child" who always got good grades without needing to study now finds things more difficult. i know many people have said this, but i actually have been through this not too long ago. i hope these tips help <3

how to work hard + actually study (realistic)

forget hard work. at least do the work! (its so funny because i literally had a post about this all ready in my drafts about to get posted, so i'll keep this short and link the post.) stop focussing on doing hard work like studying 24/7. just put in the basic necessities you need to get a better grade. hard work post link

use the disappointment and embarrassment as fuel. (basically find a very strong why) (mini story-ish thing coming up, skip to the blue text for the actual advice) i still remember the day i got such a bad score on my math and science test, i was FURIOUS at myself and i cried about it! telling it to my parents was one of the hardest things i had to do and feeling their disappointment was even worse. but that became my turning point. i was so ashamed of myself and i resented me so much that i basically just told myself "i dont freaking care what you feel *with distaste*. you brought this on yourself you failure" (a bit very harsh, yes i know) but the way i studied that week- i studied more than i every had before! also doing this doesnt really lower my self esteem a whole lot, but if it does with you, please be gentle with yourself. : so what i'm trying to say it; use that feeling of shame and disapointment as a fuel, a motivation. The big “why”.

ALTER EGOOOSSSS. this helps SOOOO MUCH its so underrated. embody the energy of your fav people who are the academic inspiration you wanna be! example: rory gilmore, paris geller, elle woods, blair waldorf, etc etc! not only is this so helpful but it also makes it so much more fun and easier!!

parent yourself. i used to tell myself to do stuff like "go study now!" or "get up lazy-butt" but in my mind. but what if you tried to say those stuff out loud to yourself? it just creates a whole new level of real. So start telling yourself to do stuff out loud.

honestly just start. stop letting yourself think about how "uncomfortable" and how "annoying" it will be. All you need to know is that you need to get it done. Right? Ok. So now what’s the next smallest step you can take to getting to do the unwanted task? It may be taking out your material, opening your book, etc.

( !! tough love, but very important rant coming up)

You privileged brat. Your parents gave up EVERYTHING so you could have the education that you are having. They worked so so hard for YOU. So YOU can have the life you want. And all for what? Just for you to throw it all away and say “oh im lazy”. HELL NAH.

And also, do you realise how fortunate you are to be even living in such a time/ era where you have access to basically EVERYTHING? You’re stuck on something? You could easily search it up!! And whats more is that you can further learn. You can search up and find out more about the thing that you’re studying, become the smartest person in your class, get so ahead in life. I hope you realise that if you do use all the resources and materials and help that’s been given to you, just imagine how far you could go! Further than Albert Einstine, Elon Musk, etc. you may be like “what! No that’s gonna be too hard!” But did they have the tools that you have right at your hand? No! They made it all the way with just simple stuff and having to work super hard. But you live in a time where you can do TWICE as much without working as hard!!

And one more thing, QUIT WHINING. “Oh school is so hard!” “Oh school is so boring!” Like whattt???? You are so FORTUNATE and LUCKY to be even getting access to such education! MILLIONS of kids out there would kill to be able to learn what you are so easily dismissing right now. So TAKE ADVANTAGE OF WHAT YOU HAVE. Put your ALL, your very BEST into studying and getting good grades because THAT is whats gonna take you so SO far in life.

Thank you very much, *mic drop*. (i still ly pookie)

dealing with social media:

put the screen time widget on your phone home screen. i did this, and i became so embarrassed by the amount of screen time i had in one day (*cough* 12 hours *cough*) that i made certain to stop using it as much.

screen time limits. this may or may not help you, bc i know that when i knew the screen time password, it didn't do a lot of help but when someone else did (like parents or someone you trust), then it definitely worked. this is probably only best if you're a child around under 14 ish bc thats around the age when most parents put screen time limits + after that age you're gonna be a lot more independent.

more *extremely* helpful resourses:

tips to decrease your phone screen time by @imbusystudying

how to reduce your screen time in the digital age? (an article)

studying tips from a straight-A student by @universalitgirlsblog2

how to study like paris geller by @4theitgirls

more blogs i recomend:

@elonomhblog @mindfulstudyquest @study-diaries @thatbitchery

xoxo, vanilla

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undercoverpena · 8 months

Text

The day Frankie both loves and loathes the kitchen counter

frankie morales x f!reader | resurrected chances

summary: fall is a season that looks good on you.

warnings: none. autumn vibes. fluff, established relationship. dad!frankie (so mentions of a child - luca). an: i wrote this to make myself smile. wordcount: 2.5k

It changes in the blink of an eye.

One moment, the nights seem long and then they’re swallowed. The sunlight barely able to kiss the world for long, before it sinks back down to the horizon.

Then, there’s the changing leaves. How they fall from the branches without regret—all in a flurry of shades he finds you admiring each morning when you’re holding your morning coffee.

It does something to you, fall. It casts a spell—transforms—sprinkles shaved pumpkin and glitters over you as the wind whispers the incantation. It swoops through and blows away the other cobwebs left by the other seasons, until you’re embodied by autumn.

The change doesn’t just happen to you, but the rest of the home too.

He witnesses how, one day the counters and table are clear, and the next, they are decorated in fall ornaments, and ghouls and pumpkins replace the usual mugs you both drink from. How the fireplace in the living room has decorative ghosts all over it, purple and orange fairy lights, with homemade bunting hanging that features little orange and yellow Luca-sized hands from a craft morning he’d “rudely interrupted”.

Frankie had known what he was getting in for when you’d told him autumn was your favourite time of year—but, he still couldn’t quite believe what the season looked like on you.

How good you looked. How happy. How joy radiated from you and bled out into every corner.

You transition with a click of your fingers from a summer wardrobe to oversized fluffy jumpers (his, always his—specifically ones bought for him, but only ever worn by him once before they are ‘mysteriously’ stolen), black leggings and the fluffiest socks (that when unrolled, come up close to your knee).

And, if you’re able to—which is most of the time—Frankie finds you’ve perfectly matched the shade of jumper to the scrunchie in your hair. Sometimes, with embellishments, such as changing leaves on them or ghosts, but his favourite happens to be the pumpkins.

Before you, he’d never thought that would be a thought he’d even have. Frankie hadn’t ever even thought of himself as someone who loved a season, but just like his son, he’d been bewitched.

Your affection for flickering candles, big blankets and wrapped-up walks rubbed off on him and Luca—secretly both becoming as obsessed with mornings spent doing autumnal crafts as you. Frankie even stupidly got excited about the prospect of another pumpkin patch visit.

But, with that all said, if someone asked him what his favourite part of the season was, it was how your two’s home changed. The way warmth rolled from you—cementing the knowledge that he’d made the right choice. Because with you, there have only been moments when he feels peace, happiness and joy. Each emotion all underpinned by moments involving shadow-touched skin and sun-kissed bodies.

You patting the seat next to you, loading up another movie—your favourite, you’d said—with popcorn in an orange bowl, and a blanket (all earth green and lined with thick fluff) just for him.

He loves curling up, but there’s something about thickened blankets and soft layers that has him excited by the season.

He just feels disappointed that with another autumn arriving, he realises he hasn’t managed to sort the things he wanted to do for you.

The shelving he said last year he’d put up in the kitchen, so you can put more of your ornaments on display. Fix the door to the end cupboard, so you can put your baking and cookie trays away, rather than hiding them in the oven. But mostly, he had hoped to—

“You alright under there, Morales?”

Blinking, he finds you smirking, watching him. “Stop staring at me.”

“Well, it’s hard not to,” you murmur, swinging your legs on the counter.

The one he should have remodelled by now. It makes his jaw tighten, and his teeth slide together.

His head turning, dark pools of brown drinking you in as you swirl the spoon around your mug—not because you need to mix the sugar or milk, but for something to do other than drool over the appearance of him under the dining table he’s fixing.

Because Frankie knows your mug is practically empty. And he also knows that when he begins these home projects, he doesn’t tend to finish them in one day if you’re around.

“Could say the same to you.”

You roll your eyes, because, to you, it’s a jumper and leggings. But to him, today’s attire is a deep forest green jumper, the one with flecks of white and orange woven in periodically—a favourite of his, and apparently yours too.

The socks today, however, are different. Thick, woollen ones he recognised all too well, smirking to himself as he brushes the hair from his forehead, slotting the screwdriver back in place before tightening.

Because the socks are his.

Feeling your eyes on him, until he hears you jump down from the counter.

“Fine, I’ll begin baking before the little man gets dropped off.”

A smile being shot over your shoulder, pulling at the cookbook that’s more flour than paper from the shelf, before splaying it across the counter.

He knows you know what you’re doing when you hinge at the hips, and lean over the counter in front of him. His mouth going dry, just like it always does when you’re teasing him.

Frankie’s about to comment on what a distraction you are, that if you want to eat at the table tonight he needs to concentrate. But then you hiss, pulling your hand back from the edge of the counter—the one chipped and forever catching on clothes, once again catching against your hand.

Then he’s just full of annoyance.

Both at the fucking counter and at himself for not prioritising the kitchen. For not giving you the dream kitchen you deserve.

The emotions shoved into his repair of the table, completing it in record time, that by the time he’s stood, you’ve chosen whatever it is you’re aiming to make. Your fingers twitching—all lost in your mind, likely calculating, mentally checking timings.

It’s what makes it easier to slide up behind you, lose his hand up the jumper of his you’re buried in. Sliding it up until he can feel your skin, all toasty, warm. Your smile slowly grows as he rests his chin on your shoulder, watching you.

Frankie has the pleasure of seeing you smile in Spring, Summer or Winter—three-hundred and sixty-five—but your skin isn’t always tinged with the scent of spiced apple, to the point he’s not sure if the season is pouring from you or if you’re just around the candles and soaps too much. He doesn’t get to see you glow in the same way as you do in Fall, like you do in the other seasons.

“Is it sturdy? The table.”

Lifting his brow, he turns you in his arms. Fingers sliding up your neck, jaw until they’re resting on your cheek.

As much as he tells you that you’re easy to read, Frankie knows he’s not all that difficult himself. Least of all with you. He’s been told he gets a twinkle, a shimmer—a soft tug of his lips that he tries to bury in nonchalance.

Shrugging, he drops his hand as he sighs. “Maybe we should check.”

“How do w—Frankie!”

With ease, he spins your body, moving it backwards, twisting, until the top of your thighs nudge against the lip of the table, fingers fanning out, palm cupping your waist as he sniggers. His palm rests under the fabric, worn and toughened, flush against skin, tasting the warmth that burns from your lips—swallowing the joy which emits from every part of you.

“We can’t.”

“We can’t?”

Shooting him a look, you purse your lips. “If we break another piece of furniture…”

You’re not cross, he can tell. If anything, your eyes are gleaming, swarmed in happiness, so close to cracking and asking him to help you on the surface.

But then, you twist your fingers in the hairs at the base of his neck. Whispering that you love him, that it looks more than sturdy, it looks solid, perfect, amazing—more words punctuated by kisses, before his hands keep you nose to nose.

Because if he does, he won’t stare at the kitchen counter.

The one he despises, hates. The one that’s chipped and was up there at the top of his list to replace when the two of you bought the house you’re both standing in. But then it fell, plummeting, landing somewhere around ‘someday’ rather than ‘today’.

You don’t hate it.

Rarely ever see an issue with it. Barely recognise how ill-fitting it is to the rest of your hand-painted cupboards and thrifted accessories. That at least once a week, if not a day, you catch your hand in the same place—scuffing jumpers, blouses and more on the cracked edge.

You deserve better. A thought which pulsates inside him—constantly doing so, too. It vibrates in his ribs and echoes in the dark when he should be sleeping. He thinks about it like he does much of the house, the one he told you he’d fix, repair, re-build—even if you weren’t fazed then, and aren’t now either.

Your excitement swallows up any of his concerns, his internal beatings. Because I love it Frankie, I love you and I love this for us. He’d have thought you were lying, except your eyes still gush with joy when you look over it, as though you cannot see any of the imperfections he can.

Unable to see how he’s let you down. That he should be providing more for you—even if you never, ever think it or even say it.

“What you thinkin’ about, baby?”

Your knuckles trace his cheek. An answer there, burning on the tip of his tongue. That, thanks to you, it was hard to hate anything, never mind the counter.

The one you did a good job covering in assorted-sized decorative pumpkins and coloured pencils you’d pushed to the side. That in truth, he liked the things which sat on it, like his mail being alongside yours—and the set of mugs that had once housed both your coffees that he’d brought to you in bed this morning and the ones you’d made when he’d begun his table-fixing.

Morning. It seemed so long ago—more than hours, more like days. It forces him to tighten his arm around you and bury his face into your neck.

“Frankie,” you whine, soft, all innocent. “Talk to me.”

“Just thinking about how pretty you look.”

“Oh, shut up.”

His nose brushes against your cheek, eyes finding yours as you try to avert them. “So much so, I really, really wanna put your elbows on the table and take you from—“

“Francisco.”

Laughter flows from the last syllable to paint the room in even more contentment. Coating him in genuine bliss that smooths over the cracks, the rougher parts of him.

“Alright,” he murmurs. “Later?”

Later, you echo. Even if he knows the day has already been swallowed by him visiting the store to fetch nails and a tool, he’s sure he already owns—but can’t for the life of him find. The rest will be filled with hyperactivity and pumpkin carving with his son.

“You do look good in my socks, baby.”

He watches your chin dip, before your hand presses against his chest—fingers and thumb digging into his t-shirt. You try to bite back your shy smile, because even if the two of you have been together a while, you still seem to go shy when he compliments you.

“Really like the sight of you in my clothes,” he continues, hands on you as you head back to your place in the kitchen.

Turning, you swat at him, laughing—the sound you make is like music to his ears. Forever makes his days better. The noise which plays in the back of his head when he’s driving down a long, winding road—desperate to get back to you.

It’s why he tugs on your wrist, pulling your hand from your face, letting him hear it fully, watching it fade as your eyes blink, pupils fixing, lids widening as you take him in. He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to how you look at him—full of appreciation and love, like it’s easy to do. Like you’re not forced or feel obligated.

“They’re comfy,” you say, all tinged with embarrassment—as though he would ever mind.

As though the sight of you slowly wearing his wardrobe doesn’t make his chest swell—doesn’t fill the space with warmth where his heart doubles.

Smiling—almost mirroring yours—he brushes your cheek. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Looping an arm around his neck, you press a kiss to his lips—his hips pressing into yours, unable to move from him, arms looping around his neck. They won’t bake themselves, Frankie. And, doesn’t he know it, but neither of you move.

The kitchen counter—the one he hates, and wants to rip out—keeps you in place. Not that he gets the impression you want to be anywhere but here, laughing with him, baking, likely recanting a story about spiders and the reason you had needed to buy new wooden spoons and a spatula.

Your cheek warms under his palm, his thumb stroking a path that curls up with your cheek as you begin to grin. “Shh, Morales.”

And he does.

But only so he can kiss you.

You in his fluffy woollen socks, his jumper and your leggings.

Starting it slow before he deepens it. Before his whole body wants to feel you pressed against his, fingers sliding around your cheek and jaw, feeling the way you move to kiss him back.

It’s intense, fire being breathed into his throat and down into his chest. He laps up every flame—allows it to coat his tongue, and spreads its heat through every nerve as he licks into your mouth.

He’s happy, oh so happy.

Losing himself in you, mouth sliding from your lips to the curve of your jaw and down the pulse of your neck. Your fingers knotting in his curls and his top, leg trying to hook around him—leaning, cautiously and foolishly, against the counter until he stabilises you with his hands.

Because you’re brilliant. Perfect. Beautiful. But, oh so fucking clumsy.

His teeth roll over the space where your neck meets your shoulder, and he groans. Hands dropping from their place, finding a new home on the back of your thighs, lifting, leveraging until you’re safe. Sat all pretty and set to be devoured, upon the counter he can’t wait to replace—

“Stop thinking about the counter, Frankie.”

He smirks, biting back a laugh. “How’d you know?”

Hooking your legs around him, his fingers run up the bare skin—thumb dragging a line more intentionally than the rest—coming to a stop between your thighs.

“Because I know you. Because you look at me like I saved you from a burning building, and you look at the counter like it was the reason the building was on fire.”

Kissing you, he grins—right against your mouth. “I really hate it.”

“I know,” you coo, biting his lower lip. “So, how about we move to the bedroom.”

Pulling his head back, his eyes narrow—your fingers brushing his curls behind his ears.

an: autumn is my fave, can you tell?

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #✨🩷 francisco morales #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier x reader #jo: resurrected chances #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier fanfiction #pedrostories

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theladybrownstarot · 3 months

Text

March Monthly Reading

Pick a card reading~

❥Here's my masterlist for more !

❥ Make sure you like/reblogg/follow/Comment for more pacs like these !

Pile 1. Pile 2.

❥

Pile 1 .

♡ Namaste swagatum to your reading ! let's see what do we have in march for you ~

This month you people are embodying the energy of tough love with your work or life this month , you are cutting through all the nonsense , not dancing around any issue that is coming forth you . keeping your seriousness and humour through out .

Any opportunity is coming to you for same or maybe you have a goal that you want to achieve and i can see you getting it . A new work life and environment can be seen and felt within this month . Things gonna change around you slowly or instantly . Finances are improving too for people . I feel that you shouldn't let any opportunity go by like that just grab it .

This month you are going to be honest with yourself and this will lead to a transformation too . You going to break some old ties maybe something that didn't suited too , you are freeing yourself from things.

Some people are going to travel this month also that i can see is if you want to settle abroad , wanna work abroad or any travel related opportunity is granted to you .Just one reminder or and advice that work for yourself and give yourself chances that's it .

A new love or romance is on the way , relationships will go beautifully in a flow , or you will be very motivated to work at your best too !

You are very close to achieving your goal you worked for and don't think a lot about your family because relationships will be good and if any decision wasn't accepted by any family person i can see it's happening . Look at the bigger picture and don't get disappointed by small things .

There are some people who envy you so be careful or maybe some people's true personality or face will be out to you soon . Partnership can be seen this month, someone is going to help you or if you want to change something like job or school anything then do it .

Signs prominent in here - Sagittarius moon , cancer moon , Aries , Leo , Gemini , libra, Aquarius , taurus, Virgo and Capricorn .

❥

Pile 2 .

♡ Namaste swagatum to your reading ! let's see what do we have in march for you ~

I see you people will be occupied with the work through out the month maybe or you will be still continuing your past work in this month also . Please take care of your back, shoulder and neck maybe this month you will have some problem or pain .

I see you people leaving certain situations or things behind that didn't serve you , forgiveness is on the card but you won't be hurt maybe this month you will not interact with alot of people rather you had like to focus on your work knowing how people are and ofc you don't wanna waste time on those things too . You will feel lack of emotional satisfaction this month , some people may take different route like tougher one. Breakup is on the card , revelation of truth is there .

Some people have ideas in their mind but are scared so don't be universe is with you , don't get back because your ideas failed just do it and go ahead with a leap of faith and things will work out. luck is by your side this month .

Some people may face disappointment in their relationship , falling in and out can be seen too or maybe you are just giving alot or doing alot so stop and stop overthinking ; just surrender to universe and go ahead with what you want to do . What needs to come in front of you will come .

Your emotions will be running this month , If you felt that the things won't work then wait universe says that it will because your hardwork is paying off !

signs prominent in the reading - capricorn , pisces, scorpio, cancer, leo,aries, saggitaurus, geimini,libra,aquarius .

❥

The end of the reading

#theladybrownstarot #free tarot #tarot reading #pac #tarot community #tarotblr #tarot witch #daily tarot #tarotscope #astrology #astro community #zodic signs #free tarot reading #tarotdaily

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theflyindutchwoman · 10 months

Text

The Tim Tests -- those don't make me like him. I know. You're nothing like him. I… Come here. You're nothing like him.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 4.09 - Breakdown

The symbolism of Lucy helping Tim remove walls in his childhood home, of all places, is incredibly poetic. When she met him, he had built so many - metaphorical - walls around him, they were practically a fortress… But that didn't stop her from seeing through them and find a way in. And since then, she has been by his side, helping him lower them. So it's only natural that she would be there for him, when his last walls are tumbling down. When he confronts the person who made those walls necessary in the first place.

The level of vulnerability and honesty he displays here is astonishing. He doesn't try to downplay what he's feeling, and considering how painful this chapter of his life is, it says a lot on how much he trusts Lucy to be here and see him like this. This may seem inconsequential but this is huge for someone who had to learn to hide his emotions very young to avoid setting off his abusive father or to shield his younger sister from what was truly happening. Only here, he can't hide behind a mask. Not after talking to his father. It's the confirmation that the latter protected his mistress all along, even on his death bed, when he never did any of that for his own family, when he was the monster they needed protection from, that breaks Tim. His feelings of disappointment, betrayal and anger are so raw. So visceral. And this ultimately explains why he's always amazed when Lucy fiercely defends and protects him.

Which is also why her previous comment about the Tim Tests struck a chord. To be fair, I don't think she ever meant to imply he was anything like his father. It rather sounded like she had found the final pieces of a puzzle, the answer as to where these tests came from since Tim was the only TO doing them. I'm not even sure she realised she was saying it aloud until it was too late. Nevertheless, her remark dug deep… even more so since it piled up with his sister's who at times sounded almost dismissive towards his feelings and his own boundaries on the topic. It was important for Tim to address this. He needed the reassurance that he wasn't anything like his father. But most of all, he needed to hear it from Lucy specifically, and not just because of that remark. Her opinion matters to him a lot. She knows him the best, met him at one of his lowest point, saw his demons, has never been afraid to call him out… and she's also someone who sees the best in everyone. Just the thought that she - of all people - could think that he might be like his dad is too much already. There's a moment where he instinctively steps back, as if he's bracing himself for the worst. Tim looks so much like a lost kid in that moment, all teary-eyed. But Lucy is right there to reassure and comfort him. She wasn't going to let him entertain the thought any longer. The way he sinks into her embrace, the big breath he takes when she repeats adamantly that he's nothing like his father, the swaying… This is exactly why he wanted her by his side in the first place, why he invited her. She is the person with whom he can drop his mask and not be self-conscious about it because he feels safe with her. She is his safe space. And the hug is the perfect embodiment of this.

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #4.09 #On a side note - I do find interesting that as far as we know he hasn't done a Tim Test ever since #neither with Aaron nor with Celina #Lucy did mention a potentially recent one in 5.17 but it's unclear when it happened exactly in the timeline #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

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pupmkincake2000 · 4 months

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Some thoughts.

Okay, Halsin, what the hell?

When I was playing Gale origin, I didn't know what lines to choose so I pushed any friendly dialogue button I saw so it felt okay when Halsin offered me to be his lover. Everything I had to do was to refuse his offer. This time (playing Astarion origin) I was extremely careful and didn't choose a single line that could trigger such a dialogur, even friendship ones. I did not ask him about his past (lovers) or whether he has potential partners, I only talked about helping to save Thaniel, but Halsin still offers me a polyamorous relationship and sex! Hinting that he went to Baldur's Gate with us because of... us, right after a fight with Ketheric. With Gale it felt normal because, again, I didn't know what lines to pick. But with Astarion it feels at least strange.

I mean, why? I didn't cross the line when talking to him this time. When I played Gale origin, I wasn't sure what lines would trigger his proposal, but now I've carefully avoided anything undesirable and yet he still offers me sex! God, I do love this bear, he is the walking embodiment of everything I could love in a man, both his appearance and personality is a masterpiece, except for polyamory, because it is not my cup of tea, not in this case at least, but now it is his behavior that makes me feel disapointed in him. And what infuriates me most is the confidence with which he says I also feel attracted to him, although - again! - I carefully avoided any potentially dangerous lines that could trigger his confession. What's going on with this character? So to be just friendly with him is enough to get these scenes?

Since my Astarion is in a relationship with Gale, I decided to look at his (Gale's ) reaction if he was offered such an open relationship. I decided to try different lines and it really made me smile that Gale’s first thought about adding a third person to the relationship was a child.

Also, as I thought, Gale is monogamous in a relationship and is not ready to share. I like that he speaks openly about it and to some extent even with anger that he does not agree to this, in fact, that’s why I like him.

And it was really painful to choose a line about breaking up, even if it was just to see his reaction. I never want to see that pain on his face again. This only lasts a few moments, but his disappointment in love, in the very concept of relationships, is very palpable.

I think that after such a “betrayal” he wouldn't soon decide to open his heart to someone or would not dare at all. I think that's why I like him so much. And that's why I like their relationship with Astarion. Gale is ready to give his all for someone he loves, and Astarion (at least this is very much in his character after so many years of hardship and suffering) will tightly hold on to what he considers his.

Of course, Gale can be persuaded to have sex with the drow twins (I checked this too), but I consider this a flaw on the part of the developers. You may not agree with me, but I think it isn't in his character.

Because a person who so vehemently argued that two lovers should be dedicated only to each other would hardly agree to such a thing. Same story with Astarion. People say he agrees to have sex with the twins once he's completely free of Cazador, but the narrator's words make it abundantly clear that he's still not into it: "his mind is miles away."

And the fact that Gale has to be persuaded… his first reactions tell a lot. This is clearly not in his character too. I would never believe that a person who kicks the cat out of the bedroom while changing clothes would easily agree to such a thing.

Most likely, the opportunity to persuade him to do something like this is necessary for the variability of the game, no more. In addition, Gale leaves his copy in a room that just watches this makingout, he takes no part in it. People might assume, of course, that he shouldn't/cannot have sex because of the orb, but there was nothing stopping him from sleeping with Astarion before they reached Baldur's Gate. However, it seems strange to me that after this he does not break up with Astarion/Tav/whoever or at least discusses the thing. It’s probably still a flaw on the part of the developers, because Gale doesn’t react to the situation at all. And this despite the fact that he only recently screamed about how he categorically does not accept such things.

Therefore, I believe that in order not to mislead people, the developers need to stick to the character's personality as they were intended. If a character is meant to be monogamous, then why do they need lines that suit polyamorous characters only? I understand that the game is variable, but this is not about the plot, but about the characters, whose personality has already been developed and established.

Just saying.

#bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #bg3 halsin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #gale x astarion #gale of waterdeep #astarion x gale #galestarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion romance #halsin #larian studios #larian #gale dekarios #bloodweave

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ventique18 · 1 year

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There are all these takes online now after Chap 7 part 3 that by Malleus taking Yuu out of all of everyone's dreams, completely erasing them from everyone's minds and basically banishing them to alter Ramshackle that that somehow means Malleus doesn't care for Yuu, since his "perfect world" is one without Yuu. Yuu is an obstacle from him protecting Lilia and that's why he's also mad at Silver for breaking everyone (including Lilia) out of their perfect dreams, and I COULD NOT AGREE LESS. This is the same Malleus manchild that doesn't quite understand complex, heavy emotions and copes by lashing out and not thinking ahead. It couldn't be any more clear that for him, it's easier to have never met Yuu and gone through that heartache than to deal with the pain of them leaving.

TWST SPOILERS!!

If he didn't care about Yuu, he'd literally just let them be a background character in everyone's dreams, yeah? Label them as Student A for all he cares. The fact that he bothered enough to erase this "tiny detail" is extremely telling that he recognizes this person has significant impact and not just some dog fucking around on the street lol.

And about protecting someone, I think it's not just Lilia. He's convinced himself that he's saving everyone as if he's some sort of god; and I would not be surprised at all if he legitimately thought he was a god. Because that's literally how he was raised and how people around him treat him. He's power-tripping, and that might actually also be a contributing factor as to why he literally erased Yuu from his world. Because Yuu never looked at him as a god, and that's an insecurity for his overblot-infested brain that there's one non-believer in his utopia.

He's running on full adrenaline right now and it's impossible for him to think clearly. Everything he's doing is because of emotions. Yuu is an anomaly to his utopia, as they have always been. His desire to stop feeling sadness and pain won over and like an aggressive antivirus, he literally just quarantined them in some special place because he just can't think straight and doesn't know what to do with them.

When he looks at them, he can only feel loneliness, emptiness, sadness. Just like how he articulated his sorrow at Ramshackle in Book 6. Unlike Lilia, Silver, and Sebek who he's known for many years, Yuu is something completely new to him; they're the opposite of his eternity. What he wants is everything to stay the same, and Yuu is the uncertainty that barged in his life and could take away a piece of his heart anytime they pleased.

There is a familiar comfort in his found-family-- like a "tradition" that follows the script and wouldn't go wrong, but in Yuu... There is excitement. There is childish wonder. There is happy anticipation. But that anticipation could turn into utter disappointment anytime, and he's scared of that. He mentioned in Glorious Masquerade of his great excitement in stepping into a new world, but also of the terrible fear of disappointment, so we know that Yuu may embody this "modern" feeling him.

The sane him likes this, but his id does not. He's terrified of losing control. And Yuu is something he cannot control. Yuu is someone who can oppose him and inflict pain straight to his deepest weakness, and as a "god" he does not want that. Yuu is his achilles heel.

#twisted wonderland #ventique rambles #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #ventique answers #twst spoilers

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euphorickaeya · 2 years

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Hihi

if your up for it can I request (imposter au) reader whos on the run from everyone and ends up in snezhnaya. Exhausted from running, ends up collapsing in the snow. Childe finds them, foul legacy recognises them as the creator and yeah... Just sort of fluff/comfort if possible, I'm finding it hard to find works on him in sagau. Thank you

an yes! The classics, back in the prime days of sagau you’d find these in no time, but ofc ofc Childe is one of my favourites so I need to write this too!

i think, I wrote this too much out of what i wanted el oh el, as much as I love the carefree childe who’ll probably try to cheer you up by popping jokes, I’d like to dig deeper into their actual obsession to you. Reminder, I believe that, they don’t really worship you, you as the person but as a embodiment of the god that create them.

i don’t see a lot of people write about that, and it might be ooc but I really want to dig deeper into this!

—————

BLUE’S ALWAYS BEEN MY FAVOURITE COLOUR.

honey’s notes : hello, hello! I’ve been trying my hardest to get back into genshin impact, im currently trying out tower of fantasy + marvel movies, it’s been a busy year for me! Please do be patient with me when it comes to putting things out, im trying to continue both my series and see if im able to progress where I left off. As of now, have this small fic I wrote, I hope you enjoy this!

summary : ever since you’ve been small, you’ve always had the connection with the colour blue, it was the first thing you ever felt happy seeing. whether it’s the blue sky, the serene waters, or even, your favourite acolyte’s eyes.

pairing : childe x reader. [can be platonic/romantic.]

reader uses they/them pronouns.

may contain really bad grammar.

taglist : will be placed in later!

recommended song : once upon a december - christy altomare.

a cough escaped your lips, frail and shivering. you clutched the now tattered and ruined cloak, the fabric barely clinging onto your bruised and battered skin. Your fingertips run themselves against your arm, trying to create warmth.

you couldn’t tell if people were still hunting you, chasing you. their yells and distaste ringing in your ears, their words so thoroughly clear in your ears, never leaving. you grit your teeth. You haven’t slept in days, you remember. You told yourself you couldn’t, not until you’ve passed Liyue. Then you will rest.

You grit your teeth in anger and disappointment, your legs wanting to give way but your will won’t let them. You could remember the amber eyes that laid their gaze on you, full of hatred, full of distaste, as if, you were to blame of the way you looked. Were you?

You have no idea how long you’ve been on the run, how long have you had a full meal? Clean water? Warm clothing? A home? Every step you took, it felt like your body would cave in. You remember what Venti has told you once,

“there’s no home for you here. As long as you carry a face we so adore, you are always to be considered a curse.”

Your gaze stays on the floor, you can no longer tell when you’ve crossed lands, you no longer remember when you’ve stopped to take a rest, because you knew, they’re always near by, the people who despise you so, the ones who can never let go of the face you so wear.

For once, for once in your long walk, you look up. The silver storm of a suspicious land greets you so, you could almost see, every unique snowflake’s design, so intricately made. Your head makes a click, Snezhnaya. You could see the sigh that escapes your lips, forming a small gust of air in front you.

You just now start to feel the ice freezing up to your feet, your toes no longer being able to move, how long have you been walking this barren land? The icy blue was the only thing you can remember. For once, you smile. Blue was your favourite colour, it reminded you of the good things in life.

The blue sky, the calm waters you’d play at as a child, the bluebells that’d grow outside your home. You can no longer feel energy to walk, you knees give way, a soft thud onto the snow, you can barely feel the cold creep up to your limbs. The white snow, reminding you of a blank canvas. So peaceful, yet so horrifying. You’re alone, in what seems like a never ending field of ice and snow.

A hum is heard from behind you, you don’t turn your head, no longer feeling the will to, just staring at the white fields that lay itself in front of you. weirdly enough, you’re warm.

“your celestial highness, you must be cold no? don’t you worry. This one, will take care of their most beloved.”

You don’t remember what happened after, the last remnants you do, you remember staring at a beautiful creature, reminding you of the galaxies they’d talk about back in your world. Oh how gorgeous you remember it. You felt a warmth surround you, as you slowly close your eyes, letting yourself be consumed by the tiredness you’ve finally acknowledged.

blue eyes stared at you, you felt your eyelids still droop, your tiredness not going away. a hum, once again, though you can’t tell if that came from him or you.

Childe stared at you with uncertainty. Although not at you, archons, never at you. You force your fingertips to life, you felt it twitch, shaking. Your eyes slowly move around the room, the fireplace in the far corner, the countless pales of warm, boiled water. The bucket that lay at your feet, your feet’s draped in a hot towel.

You could tell why, from your ankles to your calf, it grew bright red, you though, from the snow, must be. Childe watched you scan the room, you remember him as awfully noisy, so, carefree. Almost child-like. It kind of weirds you out, how quiet and so, calculating his gaze was on you.

“tartaglia..” your hoarse voice calls out, as if a machine turning back to life, he moves, his hand reaching for a glass of water from the bedside table, slowly placing the rim of the glass to your lips, quenching your thirst.

“shh..beloved. you’re still weak.” His hushed whispers tell you, slowly tipping the glass more and more, so you could get as much water as you needed.

you force yourself up, childe supporting you from the small of your back, the soft plush bed dipping as childe stacked your pillows up behind you.

“where..” a hum silences you, you stay silent for a moment, almost afraid to speak.

“I cannot apologize for, what the other nations did to you, your highness..” childe replaces the now cold towel on your forehead, only now feeling the wet sensation as he peeled it off and placed it in a pale with warm water, you watched his hands wring it damp before dipping it back into the water.

“they know not, when their god possess such a weak mortal body, and for that, they are insolent idiots.” Childe continues, wringing the towel damp one more time, before folding it neatly, into a small shape, big enough for your forehead.

“but here, in snezhnaya, we adore you so dearly.. here you are, our treasure. the most wondrous.” you took the time to admire him, as he gently placed the warm towel on your head. You could see his ginger curls, lay so perfectly on his frame, his hair was a mullet, small cuts litter his cheeks, you mustered it was from the countless spars you always imagined he’d love to do.

his freckles littered his face so perfectly, his lips in a thin line, his gaze flickers from the towel to meeting your eyes. His cerulean eyes meet you, his eyes carry adoration, care, love and affection for you. a truly magnificent acolyte.

You could not think of anything to describe laying your eyes on childe for the first time, almost, as a breath of fresh air, but you can feel yourself bubble up, especially his eyes, oh how his eyes affected you so. Your favourite colour, Blue.

“we, snezhnaya as a nation, will restore you to your peak greatness. I, your loyal acolyte, the 11th harbinger. The holder of your foul legacy, will promise you so.” His words stun you back into silence. You aren’t sure how to respond to him, his declaration has you so curious. Why hasn’t he had the same reaction as the other characters you’ve met?

and if he knows who you truly are, then why doesn’t the others?

you didn’t let words speak for you, rather your actions. Your hand shakily raised to meet your beloved Ajax’s face, it was almost if it was a perfect fit, his cheek to your warm palm, his eyes flutter close, as he yearns more for your skin, your touch. Your thumb slowly runs through his cheekbone, delicate, soft and gentle.

“ajax..” you mumble as he hums even more, the vibration ran shivers down your spine. he looks up at you, a small smile on his face, determination and his face shows serious listening, wanting to hear every syllable your lips tells him.

“will you…will you protect me, till then? till I give them their judgement, my revenge?” You whisper, voice still hoarse, ajax leaned his lips against the inside of your palm, nodding enthusiastically, kissing it ever so gently, as if you’ll break from under his touch.

“I promise, I will restore you back to your divinity, and I will stand by your side, the day you take back the world you once created..” his eyes glisten, never breaking his gaze on yours. you couldn’t help but, fall a bit in love with his eyes. after all, blue is your favourite colour.

“we must get started then, no?”

#euphoric~asks #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin self aware au #euphoric~works #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #childe x reader #euphoric~childe #genshin impact sagau #AAAA 3 AM POSTING LOL

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dreams-writings · 11 months

Text

Reverse Interrogation - Part 1

[sub!Feitan Portor x top!Reader]

‼️ NSFW/MDNI‼️

Synopsis: For the first time in his life, Feitan fails an interrogation. Refusing to admit defeat and give up his perfect track record when it comes to his specialty, he begrudgingly allows reader to strike a bargain in exchange for her secrets.. and is shocked to learn what she truly wants. His body. Frustrated and furious with his predicament, he angrily accepts her conditions purely for the sake of the Troupe, agreeing to do as she says. No other reason...

Tw: eventual smut, torture, violence, NSFW/MDNI, vulgar language, Feitan gives verbal consent but still isn't happy with the situation/ (dubcon????)

Feitan's thin, pale fingers were as cold as his heart, a detail that all of his victim's vividly remembered. They always retold their horrid experience with the notorious Phantom Troupe interrogator with a glaze of shell shocked terror in their eyes. The graphic recollection of such chilled skin gripping and tearing harshly at their own flesh would make them sob even years later after the torment. That is, of the few that survived the ordeal. The man in question wasn't necessarily aware of this, he just did his job, striking an unfathomable amount of fear into the hearts of the unlucky few who crossed his merciless path, and whom were ordered to be dragged off to his eery torture chambers. He'd bring them all to the point they'd do anything in the entire world to escape it. Even giving up precious secrets, his most treasured prize for the effort.

He was nonchalant about it. Indifferent, even. Perhaps he could revel in the glory of it, just a bit - the assignment easily giving a man like him a power trip seldom found elsewhere in his youth. Anyone from Meteor City had been conditioned by a brutally unforgiving childhood.

His eyes might crinkle in delight beneath the mysterious cowl at a particularly profound scream, or those empty grey depths could also glimmer amusedly if they begged for his nonexistent mercy. But such was the nature of his upbringing. At the end of the day.. it was the pride of serving his Troupe which overruled any form of guilt or shame that a normal, perhaps more sane person could feel about butchering people into submission. He never failed an interrogation. And he didn't plan to start today, even as the woman before him.. his newest little nut to crack open, was giving him a challenge.

Someone who survived more than perhaps ten minutes was refreshing. But only at first - as he was about to discover. Feitan was accustomed to the disappointment of most human beings succumbing to their primitive instincts and fragility, interrupting his creative ideas at the worst time. It left him unsatisfied, and pent up. The confessions would soon follow after the initial wave of shock passed.. the pathetic blubbering and hiccuping sobs, as his victim unashamedly spilled their intel before he spilled more of their guts. A part of him pitied them. Only a small, miniscule part. But most of him loathed them, too. Not only for their weakness, giving in so easily... but also betraying whomever it was they worked for or served. Mostly, it was his judgement for their inability to endure. He could only think to himself at such times:

Really? That's all you can take? I could've done better in your shoes.. I wouldn't have broken so easily. I would never be a liability to my allies. How detestable.

In his opinion they belonged beneath his boot, to finally suffer the way they caused others to. Feitan trusted Chrollo's judgement. Always. He firmly believed that not one single innocent person had ever, ever found themself in his chambers beneath his vengeful will. An underground lair of hell, which Chrollo gave the order to utilize when a person was seen as fit for punishment. Another rotten pile of garbage and greed for Feitan to pick apart. He embodied a diety of unforgiving justice in his mind. Long ago, he'd stopped asking what the reason was, and just got straight to carving away.

Feitan was currently preoccupied observing today's victim. Except.. she wasn't really acting like a victim, so what was he to call her? Narrowed, steely grey eyes continued to dart up and down her feminine figure as if searching for clues to piece together a puzzle. He couldn't solve this one, not yet... Even his keen attention for catching any signs of weakness wasn't able to determine a chink in the armor. If he thought he'd found one and explored into it a bit, he was only met with the same resilience as before. Her heated, intense stare of defiance. A smirk began to play across his features, it wasn't often he maybe felt a glimmer of respect for someone in his chair.

"Tough girl. How you become immune to shock?" He asked, pausing to idly run a bloodstained cloth over one of his nasty metal tools. He tossed the mechanism back to a metal tray where it gave a harsh clatter.

A clever glint in his eye, he circled her similarly to a jungle cat closing in on alert prey. She snickered right back at him, and he quirked a brow, noticing the bizarre nature of her mental state. Or rather, it was outlandish to him, to see someone with freshly stripped fingernails acting so present and grounded.

By now, almost at this exact time in the routine, the animalistic "deer in headlights" look would appear as his victims squirmed and twisted to find an escape. Hyperventilating through a full bodily trauma response. But not her. She looked as casual as the first moment he forcibly sat her down... Expression careful and aware, but definitely not in the midst of a primitive meltdown. He couldn't help but feel a little bit of curiosity... And interest. He could treat someone like this as a human, even if his cruelty would remain the same.

He did so by talking to her. She was clearly sound enough to respond.

"You been trained? To handle your secrets like big girl?" He inquired condescendingly, pacing restlessly in front of her, looming over her with menace in his intent.

His ghostly slender hand reached forward to grip her by the hair, yanking on the tufts to force eye contact, and her face twisted into an expression he couldn't quite understand, her sharp exhale of surprise leaving a warm feeling tingling against his skin as it swept past his cheeks.

Stripped bare, she was panting lightly, a reaction he noticed. He kept his victims this way to understand them better - an expert in anatomy; he wanted to be able to take in every reaction. Every last possible weak point that could be weaponized or utilized to coax someone into unbearable agony. Being naked psychologically left an impact, making humans feel more vulnerable and insecure through the interrogation process. Subsequently, it urged them to feel cornered and small in more than one way, and let their treasured secrets slip all the easier.

But this wasn't what he was looking for. She wasn't gasping with pain or flinching away. Instead, her soft pants left her cheeks flushed red. So what was going on?

"You could say that," she purred. "Is it frustrating? You haven't had to really work for this before, have you?" She mused.

The way she was looking at him made his skin crawl just a bit. Mostly because he really legitimately couldn't read her face, and he found that unnerving. He was used to total control in this environment. Given the circumstances it should be something totally different - so how was he supposed to understand her at all? He watched a gash on her face ooze slowly with more blood, a little droplet finding it's way down to the ice cold basement flooring with a faint pattering echo. The woman was unphased by his demeanor apparently.

Feitan just sort of stared after such comments, calculating towards her with a hint of annoyance creeping into his gaze. Was she taunting him? For a moment he second guessed it because he couldn't determine why someone in their right god damn mind would mock a life threatening predator actively approaching with a set of torture tools in hand. Not to mention, she was helpless and restrained. Was she bluffing? Either way he was rapidly coming to the conclusion that she most definitely was batshit crazy, based on how there was seemingly no logical gain in being so bold.

"...Can't feel pain. As much. Can you?"

After a pause this was all he had said. Coming to this final conclusion, realizing that his vigilant eyes hadn't missed any signs after all. Initially he had thought she had gone through some sort of intense training in pain endurance, for the sole purpose of keeping her sacred, crucial information safe. But now he was realizing what he was actually dealing with. He'd broken trained torture survivors before. Easily. They always reached their limit eventually. This was different.

"That's right!" She chimed. "You finally got it, darling. I can feel pain but my nervous system doesn't work the same way as yours.. my pain receptors aren't very intense. So you're playing a losing game here. Tell me though, will you give up? Is this it for you, little sadist? Or are you the creative type~?"

He watched her give him a once over, smug expression still plastered to her features as he felt himself essentially being sized up. He wasn't sure how he felt about it other than the fact he didn't like it.. Feitan believed her close observance of him from head to toe was probably a show of her humiliating him. Maybe searching for weaknesses the same way he knew how to do.. and he hated that possibility. Who was she to reflect his behavior? She MUST be thinking up insults about him silently, that he was too short or something.. the very idea made his blood boil.

This infuriating concept made him loom closer to her, his intimidating nature taking over while his eyes bore daggers into hers. Mere inches away from her face, this was how he typically issued a challenge without speaking a word. Most people would fall apart and quiver with terror being subjected to inescapable closeness with him. Yet another unexplainable reaction followed from her instead, and his eyes darted down at the first sight of movement, noticing she was squirming and rubbing her thighs together under his fierce stare. He didn't put two and two together; he just watched, dumbfounded, unsure if maybe she was attempting to break free to no avail.

"There's more than one way to get information out of someone, you know~ but I get the feeling all you know how to do is rip people apart. The easy method. Boring. You want my suggestion-?"

"Shut up," Feitan snarled ferociously, offended and disgusted with both her and the situation, unable to stop himself before he found his hand wrapping tightly around her neck, violent fingers locking over her jaw in a vicious grip. He hated all her irritating chatter, it made his temper flare. But even more than that, although he would never admit it.. he just hated that she could take away what made him feel the most powerful and secure, simply by existing. He wasn't threatening or scary to someone if he couldn't cause them pain. And he struggled to accept that. It didn't fit in place with his comfort zone.

Gurgling, her eyes squinted with pain, but to confirm what she'd just said.. indeed, a normal person would be screaming, and this was bearable for her, even if fairly uncomfortable. His inhuman retractable claws were digging into her soft skin, causing beads of blood to appear beneath five piercing knives. Quickly, the wounds turned into crimson streams. Yet, she wouldn't yield.

Unfortunately, her time spent suffocating in his merciless grasp also gave him enough time in silence to come to another realization. He let go, instantly - watching her drop back down with a hunched head, coughing and spluttering for air.

He could accidentally kill her this way because her body and mind wouldn't be responding with the queues he needed to go by in determining her state of mortality, and likelihood of death. How could he make a judgement call without the signs he was used to expecting? He could tell when someone was close to death, based on indicators of their shock levels.. all a complete circular link between the psychology and physiology of pain.

He was completely seasoned in his job to the fullest degree. But this wasn't a normal situation, not one he'd ever dealt with. She couldn't necessarily tell him or maybe even understand herself if she was dying.

Shit... her body wouldn't freak out or sense danger. It would just remain in a perfectly neutral state. One second she would be breathing and the next her heart might just fail on her. Normally Feitan didn't have any qualms about killing but when it came to interrogations, death meant that the victim's intel died with them. Taken to the grave. To him, that was equivalent to failure.

And so.. the delimma was quickly dawning on him. He could continue, and risk killing her by accident, therefore ensuring the intel he sought was forever out of reach - or, he could stop and suffer the shame of admitting defeat.

Unacceptable... both were unacceptable. He could only stand momentarily and glare at her maliciously for the predicament she was causing him, a sudden stirring feeling of true hatred arising in his chest. Why was it, then, that there was perhaps more of that same respect from earlier appearing simultaneously? Well.. he must be unable to ignore her strength here, and found himself inwardly acknowledging her impossible feat of enduring his trials. No other human being had ever done the same.

"You will tell me. Tell me what Danchou asked for." He was making an attempt to assert his normally compelling willpower, his intimidating aura leaking into his nen which flared along with his irritability. Right now, he was fairly pissed off, the signs beginning to appear around his frame through a visual residue of nen.

"Maybe I will," she purred again towards him. He paused, surprised yet again by her, unsure if she was being serious. He would've easily taken that in as more mockery but just now - she sounded quite sincere. What was he supposed to say? He wasn't going to ask HER what he had to do for it. His pride wouldn't permit that. She needed to play by his rules in his domain.

But as a result of his confusion he was only left with a loss for words, eyes narrowing into slits as he attempted to piece her apart with his mind. Figure out what she was going on about. Nonetheless, she took the silence as opportunity.

"Take me back to your leader and I'll strike a deal with him. He makes deals, doesn't he? I'll tell you everything if he can give me what I want."

Feitan ridiculed her with that same silent stare, making it clear he was displeased with her request. She shouldn't even get the option when nobody else in her shoes ever could. She was just lucky.. just special because of some random offhand ability she either developed over time, or was born with. So why did she deserve special treatment? What, was she going to ask for a red carpet down here next as she was escorted out? He wasn't going to ask about her weird pain tolerance nor did he care. It was just an annoying hurdle he was finding himself truly aggravated with.

"Fine. But Danchou not an idiot. Most likely end up back with me.. will get you to talk. Eventually."

The only reason he agreed to this was because he was legitimately concerned about accidentally killing her. He was known for his brutality, and early on in his little career he had actually sent people into a premature grave through panic induced heart attacks. His torture techniques had to be modified and drawn out, to prolong their time in the chair and eliminate the chance of losing potential classified information. He knew what to look for, to determine when to back off temporarily. He just hadn't seen it from this woman.

Not to mention, he had carved her up pretty good already. Deep, clean slices decorated her skin in vertical designs where he had experimented for quite a while, attempting in his endeavors to find just one place where her pain was significant. Nothing had been found, and as a result, her blood loss was considerable.

Wordlessly, he made his final decision, cutting her loose from her bonds and noticing her give a shudder at the cold blade. Leaning forward towards him, a tension became present now that she was being freed, an absolutely electric presence in the surrounding air. Goosebumps raised beneath where his fingertips smoothed over her wrists, and he raised a brow, assuming it was the discomfort of cold. "Pretty," she hummed in a strangely sweet tone, and he straightened up, staring at her again in a mixture of confusion and exasperation.

"Your hands," she clarified. He just deadpanned at her. A moment passed, and she would only earn a snippy little "tch" from him in response. His eyes flickered back to her face upon hearing her chuff in amusement at his dismissal, and again he realized just how god damn nuts she was. Clearly, not even slightly afraid of him. He frowned, spiteful at the fact.

As if to make a point, his so called "pretty" hands were what he used to harshly yank her out of the chair by the scalp, dragging her across the floor to go speak with Chrollo. How could she even possibly think that about such hands, which were designed to only ever harm and kill? The amount of blood these hands carried upon them.. it could drown a person. Or several. Such a comment like that made him almost concerned for her. Or rather, it would if she was someone he cared for. He did not. Feitan was definitely judging though.

If anything, her delirious behavior was perhaps the only present sign of her being unwell... Maybe this was how the strain on her body was presenting itself even if she couldn't feel pain. That had to be it. Her compliments couldn't be genuine. This was psychosis of some sort.

He was grumbling and growling under his breath as he kept tugging on her to keep up with him. She wasn't heavy by any means but he was annoyed to even be lugging her weight around. She was a tricky bitch in his opinion and he didn't trust her one bit - not even enough to stay put in the damn chair while he went to ask for Chrollo's input. "Stop" he snarled, the second he watched her open her mouth to start speaking. So instead, she just giggled softly, blood smearing all over her legs from being dragged across the stone cold floor.

Despite his warning, she spoke anyway, and he groaned.

"What do you think I'll ask him for? If I won't cave under the torture.. surely you must be wondering what's worth all my fun secrets."

"Don't care," he stated back flatly. He gave a particularly mean tug on her hair this time, knowing the tension against her scalp really wouldn't cause her much distress anyway. He could do what he wanted.

"Oh c'mon, surely you're curious ~" she hummed. He just sighed, refusing to play her game anymore.

It didn't take long to get her back into the entryway of the hideout where the entire Troupe was sitting around idly.. likely waiting for him to finish up. After all, whatever he found out was going to determine what the group did next. It was part of the pressure he was feeling at this time. He felt himself mentally melt away a little bit, consumed by shame as all other pairs of eyes turned to witness him. Him, in his state of failure.

He noticed all at once the individual reactions - Machi's frown of impatience and the confused yet interested tilt of Shalnark's blond head. Chrollo stood up, and approached. His eyes were always empty yet watchful. He could make sense of the situation amidst the silence within mere moments. "Everyone, please give us some privacy for a moment," he called to the others in his usual collected, calm tone. His diction was consistently elegant and composed. Feitan had always admired it.

He was having a hard time coping with embarrassment however, preoccupied with the difficulty of tolerating an emotion that he hated. Being ashamed or feeling bad about anything at all could make him terribly irritable. The others figured it out eventually, but it made him difficult to communicate with at times, on top of the language barrier. They'd just get snippy retorts and the usual scornful glare out of him if they tried to dig at it. Chrollo was the best person to handle this anyway, seeing as he was entirely unphased by Feitan's personality quirks.

Once the others had cleared out with a few grumbles and sighs, deciding not to comment on the abnormal event of Feitan bringing a victim back up with him, he growled and tossed the girl forward at his boss' feet.

"Won't talk. Some kind of weird pain immunity. Can't continue.. could kill her. She want bargain for secret."

His explanation was short, eyes lowering down to glower at her beneath his boot, giving her a solid kick in the back for the hell of it just because he was mad about what he had to do. He was suffering such humiliation because SHE was too stubborn. Anger helped him feel better about admitting defeat to someone he looked up to.

The woman just squirmed under his heated eyes, legs writhing together like they had before in the chair. He still really didn't like those eyes she gave him from beneath half lidded lashes, as it made him nervous. He didn't get why she always looked like she knew something he didn't. Chrollo watched this scene unfold as well, any changes in his expression so subtle that they were hardly noticable, and past any level of observance. Even the slightest glimmer of amusement in his eye was quick to vanish as he easily pieced apart the situation with a few context clues. He spoke quietly and nonchalantly to the girl, calm gaze lowering back down to her level.

"It sounds like we have no choice but to cooperate with her, Feitan. After the extensive damage done to her body, one might even say we're lucky she's willing to compromise."

Don't praise her for such a stupid thing, Feitan nearly hissed out loud, but kept the thought reverberating in his head instead.

The raven watched his leader lower to one knee, observing her, and he then gave her one of his lifeless smiles before asking:

"What do you suggest we should trade, for your precious intel? What do you value?"

He waited, glancing up at Feitan to note how utterly furious his second in command was, the man was practically exuding steam out the ears. Chrollo wasn't upset by any means in this situation, but he could also understand why his counterpart was struggling with it.

The woman straightened herself up, having patted down her hair once Feitan let go, and she gave the Phantom Troupe's leader a coy smirk. She didn't hesitate to respond with a bold demand.

"Let me fuck him,"

"I want him. Your interrogator. Let me do as I please with him for a while, and he'll be my pretty new toy. I promise not to harm him, and he'll be returned to you in the same condition as he is now. If not perhaps a little bit more relaxed."

She lifted her eyes to hungrily drink in the sight of her captor. Chrollo couldn't help but chuckle softly, purposefully taking a moment to witness Feitan's reaction in real time.

He had to admit, this whole ordeal had his full interest now. The leader had already known where this was going the second the girl was dragged in, utterly unapologetic with the squirming and flushing red body every damn time her captor touched her. The look she gave him was one of desire, whenever she basked in his visage. All behavior that Chrollo understood from women, and he knew Feitan did not. In fact he was sure this was a complete blindsighted smack to the face for him.

She gave a little rocking motion of delight at the mere thought, and Chrollo raised a brow, seriously considering her offer. It was a simple one. So, she just wanted sex. But he understood right away that this was out of his hands. He already made a pact with himself long ago that he would never sacrifice the human dignity of his members for personal gain.

Maybe, though.. he could help his friend out with this one and take the bullet. The truth was that Chrollo wouldn't mind at all, he'd utilized his good looks in the past to get what he wanted for his personal goals, and it was really no hindrance to him to do it one more time.

"So you want pleasure? Rather than just him, I can assure you that I'm another willing candidate for you, and with significantly more intimate experience at that. Would you take me instead?"

"No-"

She began. Except, it was two people who spoke at once. The woman was about to completely reject the idea, but Feitan was already shaking his head.

"No, Danchou. You should not take consequence for my failure. My responsibility to fix."

Chrollo sighed, realizing this could now officially go one way and only one way, due to Feitan's stubborn rigidity. Even if he'd be pissed about it for easily a full week. Feitan would rather suffer any other punishment than let down his Troupe. It was connected to his personal pride and priorities. Chrollo knew this, of course.

"Well, Feitan? Do you agree? You won't be allowed to resist or argue, if you do. You would have to allow her to have her way, if we want to complete an exchange."

Poor Feitan however, was not on the same page. In fact, they'd left him behind by a significant few paces, his brain still working in overdrive to process what the fuck she just said a minute ago. What she just asked his boss for. He quite literally couldn't fathom what was happening or why. Who would want him? And no less, why the hell was Chrollo so quick to immediately consider such a bizarre request? There HAD to be more to it. Maybe she was trying to get him into a vulnerable position, to kill him. This couldn't be right.

"Feitan?" Chrollo asked again. The skull crested cowl around his face covered the view of his jaw hanging slightly open in disbelief.. but it certainly couldn't conceal his mortified eyes, round as stoplights.

"......I, I..."

He almost reverted back to his first language in this instance as he failed to find the words. How could he, when presented with such an unbelievable situation? What could he even do.. or say? How did he even feel about it? He wasn't sure. Too much at once.

At least, the woman was actually quiet as he sat there, dumbfounded and flabbergasted. He shuffled uncomfortably, feeling his face quickly heating up into what was probably a jarring bright red flush. His ears felt hot.. his cheeks were burning and his hands went all clammy. He wouldn't say it but he was scared.

Nonetheless, what came out of his mouth after a few agonizing long minutes passed, said differently.

"Fine. Whatever it takes."

"Feitan.. if you don't want to.."

"Stop it. This my job in Troupe. Let me do job."

His fists clenched, and he stuffed them into his pockets as he noticed the girl's clear satisfaction with his answer. He sneered right back at her, after seeing her snicker. He sent Chrollo a glare, truly feeling like his boss was pimping him out in some strange way. Was this even reality?? In what world would this even happen?

"I'll be so good to you~" the girl hummed sweetly, tantalizingly snaking an arm around his leg. Feitan shoved her off, but not before stiffening at her touch in surprise. He didn't know how to accept touch of any kind and he was more afraid of this right now than even something brutal, like her hurting him back. He'd have agreed much easier if she just suggested that instead. At least that was familiar.. whilst this was foreign.

"Alright. The deal is made. But you won't be leaving this place until you fulfill your end of the bargain, Miss, so long as Feitan also follows through. Now, I don't think you intend to cheat... Your interest in my interrogator seems genuine. But if you try to find any loopholes we'll likely kill you for it. Oh. And Feitan reserves the right to step away if you harm him. Understood?"

The girl nodded eagerly, standing up finally on weak knees. "So.. is that your name then beautiful boy? Feitan? What a lovely sounding name." She wobbled, eventually swerving on her right hip to reach for Feitan, arm wrapping around his slender waist to steady herself. Again, he stiffened at her closeness, expression tightening into discomfort. So then, why.. why did he simultaneously experience a sudden stirring in his lower stomach? Hearing her coo his name in such a sugary sweet way was also a completely new sensation. He didn't think anyone had ever spoken it like that before.

His eyes widened slightly in horror at the realization of feeling butterflies and jittery warmth in his stomach. Of course. He couldn't just ignore what was inevitably coming - what terrifying task he had committed himself to all for the sake of preserving his pride. Like one may try and avoid an intrusive thought, he was trying to cast out the idea that he'd.. well.. he'd be feeling inside of her quite soon. He'd never felt a girl like that before.. wrapped around him, and..

He released a breath he didn't know he was holding before and blinked to clear his head.

"What are you looking at" he hissed menacingly at the woman after catching her oggling him again, yanking her up by the forearm to drag her back to the damn basement designated for interrogation. Not to torture her now.. but.. to do whatever unsightly things she demanded. He chose the same room purely because it was designed specifically to block out noise. He didn't know what might happen, but... He didn't want anyone existing in this proximity to have even a slight audible hint of what was happening. This was a secret he was taking to his fucking grave.

Well, he could at least continue to brag about his perfect track record of successful interrogations, even if he was technically doing it the reverse way this time. He would simply have to bare with the constant embarrassment of knowing Chrollo witnessed this happen. Chrollo would know he stooped this low. But at least, he wouldn't have to suffer the constant belittlement and teasing from his allies. They could be brutal about that.. like siblings. Chrollo would likely have the decency to keep this under cover. Between the two of them.

"And don't hurt her either, okay Feitan?" Chrollo called back out to his interrogator as the small but strong raven hauled her away. He didn't respond, he just growled in frustration under his breath, already having assumed that was part of the exchange. No more torture.

He didn't know what he should be prepared for, and to be quite honest he felt almost faint as they entered the cold basement of the abandoned building in tense silence. The woman tried standing again, gripping for his hand as she pulled herself up.

"Unless you want blood all over you, I need to be patched up. And then I want you on the bed. Understood?" She asked.

Feitan gave an exhale, heavier than usual. Now that they were alone again he could ask her about her nonsensical request.

"you.. why would you..."

"Did I say you could ask questions?" She leered. And his gaze immediately hardened into a glare. He said nothing, knowing if he entertained his rage with a response, he'd probably only escalate from there. He was quickly learning he despised being told what to do from someone other than Chrollo.

"Good boy. I hope you know... I'm not intending to make you do everything for me.. I just want to please you, and watch you squirm a bit. That's all."

He was having a difficult time understanding her motives still but it might've been the haze of fog that clouded his mind after her next statement.

"That doesn't sound so bad, right? Sitting back and relaxing while a nice girl rides on you.."

His breath hitched as he felt her arms suddenly wrap around him, pressing herself into him by the hips to overwhelm him with her scent, and her voice.

"I'll make you feel so good that everyone in this building will know what's being done to you~"

And Feitan shuddered. Her whisper made his knees a little bit weak.. but he was also fucking petrified. Women never got this close to him on purpose. He may not be willing to admit it to himself, but for a brief moment at that time, he faltered... Truly terrified indeed that she was right. He just might break.

#feitan x reader #feitan #feitan portor #feitan porter x reader #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #mdni #HxH #18+ please #Phantom Troupe

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