#another coloured pencil moment

[synthetic-rust]

Waow, a green austerity

[sysig]

What’s Bun-Bun’s signature colour? (Patreon)

[hwajin]

☆°. — ғɪғᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs ᴘᴀsᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ | hhj

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hyunjin x afab!reader

𝐰𝐜: 3.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, cumming inside

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is barely proof read AND inspired by the bathrobe look in paris but also hyunjin in milan 🫶 hope you like it <333

You could feel his gaze on you. On your figure, your body. On your whole. The clear sound of his 2B pencil dancing along the cheap, store-bought paper echoed quietly in contrast to the music playing somewhere in the back, from the radio, or one of your phones, or from outside your hotel room altogether — it didn’t much matter to you, for his gaze on your body, on your figure, on your whole was all that did.

You weren’t sure if he was aware that you were aware — his eyes on you, the pencil scratching against the paper; you knew you were the object for his current spurt of creativity. The object of his inspiration. The object of his works — his very own and personal muse. You knew, and the knowledge, the very thought alone, made you dizzy, made you lose track of the sentence you were reading in the tour guide provided by the hotel.

Milan was beautiful. You were working your way through page after page, taking in museums and cathedrals, art galleries you knew Hyunjin would die to see. One page, his gaze on you, long, intimate, longing. Another page, eyeing the ‘Pinacoteca di Brera’, putting in a bookmark to later show him, and you felt his eyes on you again. Unbudging. Persistent. He either was unsure of your anatomy, or simply enjoyed to stare.

“I can feel you staring, you know.”

You looked up, and your eyes momentarily locked with his own, dark ones. Sparking. Speaking, without words. His hair had dried a good bit ever since he’d stepped out the shower, the white bathrobe snug loosely around his naked body leaving only so much to imagination. You looked at him, smiling, teasing, and he stared back — aware, and smug. His eyes wandered down to his art again — faint strokes of your face adorning the page and you wondered what had moved Hyunjin to capture you in this very moment — it was mundane, the moment, and you didn’t look any bit different – or, better, for that matter – than you did any other day. You were reading a tour guide, lazy, tired, solemn — you wondered where he saw the beauty in that.

“I know. I don’t mind that you can feel it.”

A pang to your heart, and he looked up from his page again, after adding lines here and there which as though magically transformed into plasticity, into your eyes and nose and mouth. You were fascinated by his art. You grew bashful at his words. And you were enamored by his eyes, his face. His whole; the way he looked. Milan was beautiful — but suddenly you forgot all about the tour guide, about the trip here you had bought for his birthday. You forgot all about the sights and museums and art galleries, for he sat across from you, sight enough, creating the only art you ever wished to look at.

You were sure you blushed, your skin acquainting the same colour of the roses blooming on the table in a vase. You could smell them, their scent spreading all around and luring you into depths so captivating you wanted to exist in them for eternity.

Only now you noticed the red paint by your lover’s side, only after thorough inspection of him. He parted his eyes from your own with a grin and continued on his drawing — on your drawing, ultimately, because you knew he’d gift it to you after finishing touches —; his hands reached after the brush laying beside his paper, and with a dip into beforehand-prepared water he activated the red colour, and let it swim across white paper. You couldn't take your eyes off him. You couldn’t take your eyes off the way his hands controlled the paint on his canvas, how the pigment drowned and spread and melted against the grey lines of pencil. Taking everything in, swallowing details, yet enhancing the object of the art, enhancing features of your face. Your cheeks suddenly shone red now on the white paper — and maybe it had been his aim after all, to make you shy, to make you bashful. Reality materialised onto paper, into art. Love did, for every brushstroke, every further pigment of red paint on white canvas meant love, for every further gaze of his, for reference or his own enjoyment you weren’t sure, meant adoration.

It took Hyunjin far longer to finish the painting than he had intended it to. Not because he was struggling with it — drawing you in all shapes and forms was a second nature to him by now —, and not because of exterior reasons altogether. Yet he sat and painted, away and away, adding a line here, colour there, watching you go back to the tour guide; he was sure that it could not possibly take you so long to finish it. That you were spending far too much time on each page, that you were eyeing Hyunjin far too often after every other sentence you read. That it wouldn’t possibly take you so long to inspect sights and places — but that you and him were set on the same mission, seemingly, on the same, interior goal. Finishing the tour guide, completing the painting — meant ending the moment. Ending the tranquility, discarding, ultimately, from admiring the other in the golden light of the slowly setting sun, shadows of trees and buildings casting paintings on your faces. The moment would end, the sun would set, would stop drowning the ebony furniture in your hotel room in golden showers, snow-white bed sheets in warm rays.

You looked up; Hyunjin looked at you, inspecting, one second, another, before he went back to his painting, as concentrated as he had stared at you. You let your eyes wander to somewhere behind him — you looked out the western window, which blind’s didn't do well in saving you from the blinding sun, though you wouldn't have wanted them to, admired the sunset, the city that laid in it, the foreign neighbourhood, the white sky. Maybe Hyunjin caught beauty there — the rich sun on your face. Your sparking eyes, your gleaming expression. Almost sacred, solemn. Meant for only the two of you.

You caught glimpse of the broken clock on the wall behind him, showing fifteen minutes past four — it had been showing fifteen minutes past four for the past two hours now. Or for the past three? How much later was it now, ever since you had settled into the hotel room? The sun had long started to set behind the horizon, though it had stood at its highest spot when you had first entered the single bedroom for two; yet maybe no time had passed at all. Maybe in his presence love was eternal, unending.

You stood up. You had been looking at Hyunjin for far too long; had been only looking at him, inspected his every move, reciprocated his every long, fixed stare, shuddering beneath it simply. You had studied his ever-drying dark hair, his ever-parting bathrobe, his naked collarbones, his paint-laced fingers. The way he stared you down, the way he left you vulnerable and naked with as much as a gaze – and you felt touch starved. His eyes burned on your skin, though it wasn’t sensation enough to satisfy you – you needed more of him. You would always need more of him.

Hyunjin’s eyes followed your figure as you made your way over to him. Without a rush, walking slowly; you bore all the time the world had to offer in your palms, it felt. You walked slowly, yet the scent of the red roses you passed filled Hyunjin’s senses in the breeze your movements created. The floral sensation all around him, your nearing body, your leisure attire, your hazy eyes – he was convinced this moment alone, the sight of you, the golden sun as though casting a halo above your figure, drowning you in warmth and beauty and love, this moment alone was entirely enough to eradicate each and every of his needs, any wish he’s ever wished and any promise he’s ever made; for this moment alone, and your heaven-sent presence was enough to fulfill all. Needs, wishes, promises. If it was you he could look at for eternities, if it was your body he’d have the privilege of holding close for the end of times he would never dare to ask of anything else.

The red paint on Hyunjin’s paper slowly dried out as you finally stood before him. It wasn’t, Hyunjin thought, the roses on the table in a vase which sent their scent across the room, after all – it was you. You smelt of roses. You smelt of vanilla, of red paint, of smoke, of Milan, now that you stood before him, now that he looked up at you, from beneath glasern eyes. You smelt like you, and you smelt like him; traces of his scent and his touch and his promise on your skin, and Hyunjin basked in it.

You didn’t waste much time before you made moves to take a seat on his lap; and not only did Hyunjin realize your attempts momentarily, he also embraced you without as much as hesitation. He found himself drowning in the feeling of your weight on him, allowing you to swallow him whole, allowing you to let your eyes explore. You let them wander from his face to his neck, from his protruding collarbones to his pointy shoulders – the white bathrobe was almost mocking now, doing so little in covering the man that it was nothing but ironic.

And you felt his hands on you, your body. Secure, sure of their position on your hips. Tall fingers, spacey palms; you felt their entirety on your body, and your red heart picked up its’ speed at that.

And you touched him, too. Your hands, cool and soft, found home on his face, each palming a cheek, closing him in. Your thumbs caressed his flush skin, tickled near his eyes, reached towards his parted lips, his hungry lips. Hyunjin looked at you, let you touch him, his face. Let you look at him. Let you make him wait on the kiss he so badly needed, let you bask in him, for he enjoyed nothing more than that.

Your eyes met, and you weren’t sure who granted the first smile, but both your mouths turned upwards, curling into softening features. Roses, red paint, Milan outside the window; though this moment contained of only you and him, and the broken clock, fifteen minutes past four, timelessness. You showed your teeth, your eyes squinting with your smile, and Hyunjin’s were the same.

“Hi.”

A whisper against quiet music and honking cars, angry passengers outside, and Hyunjin reciprocated with a chuckle. Then, a whisper as soft as the prior one, “Hi.”; and he pulled you in. Or maybe he reached for you, longed for you. Or maybe you both moved only enough for your lips to connect, finally, in soft passion. Vigorously, though not in haste, not in roughness. Forcefully, rather, impatiently forceful as you let your tongue dart out of your mouth so it could explore his, and it didn’t take the man as much as a minute to welcome you in, to invite you into himself. And you let your tongue dance with his own, in a waltz, or something faster than that, something less rhythmic – something freer. Your hands stood ground on his body, fingers digging into his shoulder as his dug into your flesh, in covered flesh by your aching hips. Your mouths moved against one another sloppily, and teeth dragging across lips, tongues easing off the sting right after, wet, loud, swallowing any sound which slipped past your throats. Quiet, still timid, breathy sighs which tasted of chocolate and shaky moans which were barely audible against exterior noise. You saw stars behind your eyelids – if because you squeezed them shut so tight it hurt, or because Hyunjin’s touch on your body, the bite he had just placed on your lower lip, and the way he pulled away right after, only for a second, less than that, to admire you with a smile before diving back into you, you weren’t sure, but there were stars all the same. Stars, and Hyunjin, darkening Milan behind the hotel room windows. Fifteen minutes past four. Timelessness.

Hyunjin pulled you closer. Impatience, or simply the need to have you nearer, more flushed against his body than you already were. His hands lay strong on your body, and he pulled you in, your cores coming in contact, hot, ignited, searching for more than this. Than clothed touches, more than the faint feeling of his erection against your sex. More than his hands in your hair, entangling long, warm fingers there, more than his teeth bruising your lips. You’d always want more – and you were glad that Hyunjin was no different. For his hands wandered, and his lips with them, kissing and nibbling where his fingers danced upon – your neck, your shoulders, then, your chest, unbuttoning your shirt one by one, not without a kiss to your skin with every further act of undressing. One button, a kiss, a gaze up to you beneath his lashes, a faint smile, a smug grin at your scrunched brows and staggered breath. Another button, another kiss, and his gaze fell back to your chest, watching your ever-exposing body, so impatient in his seat yet so unrushed. Taking his time. Feeling your bosom rise and fall against his lips, hearing your breath, your sighs, your heartbeat. Feeling hot – your skin was burning, your body was, and Hyunjin with it.

Your shirt was discarded onto the floor. Long forgotten, along with your shorts; Hyunjin’s bathrobe lay leisurely around him, half-opened, only carelessly shoved off his body yet not having borne enough patience to fully free him from it. Though neither of you cared. You let the fabric hang off the chair you were sitting on, the softness of it the only thing touching your skins besides each other's skin. You were closer now, much closer than before, though you barely deemed it possible. You sat right atop Hyunjin’s erection, his right hand resting against your inner thigh – he wasn’t touching yet, only teasing to, and your body grew hotter yet, needier. Your hips searched for friction, your fingers dug into Hyunjin’s scalp with a force which made the man groan out in deep satisfaction, and you kissed him with a fervor enough to move oceans – and he drowned in it, gave into you, kissed you back as feverishly, as messily.

He touched you, too. Finally, eventually, and you muffled a loud moan at the unexpectedness of it. Two fingers against your clit as Hyunjin’s tongue entered your mouth, as he forced your tongue to push against his own – to which you obliged, gladly. You moaned into him as you reciprocated his kiss, grinded your hips into his touch, into his hand. He answered with a sigh, with fingers which increased their speed, with a bite against your lower lip. It ought to hurt by now, your lower lip, with the way he was nibbling at it, though you believed that your body was immune to feel pain in relation to your lover. So, he bit away, nibbled on the sweet spot of your neck, on the lobe of your ear only to moan right into it, to send shivers down the entirety of your body, and you let him. And there was no better feeling, you believed.   

You disconnected your lips from his. There was a second where his mouth searched for yours, where his body hadn’t yet registered the emptiness your parting left, but then he looked at you, leaned back in his chair, eyes glassy, fingers circling around your clit slowly, mindlessly. As though it was a bodily reaction, an instinct. As though he wasn’t actively aware of his movements at all. His breath hitched in his throat, and he looked a mess – pupils blown out, eyes dark as night, hair disheveled, mouth red and puffed and bruising. There were faint love bites blooming on his neck already, ones that would turn a deep red, or a deep purple by the next morning. The sun had almost set behind the horizon, was casting its’ last, weak rays upon the planet – and those last, weak rays of golden light seemed all to land on the man beneath you. He shone, almost golden himself, chest and cheeks flushed red, and he was glowing. Glowing in the way he looked at you, glowing the smile he granted you, genuine, true. He waited on you, waited on a kiss, or on something else, something more, maybe. Yet he let you stare at him, let you admire him in the last, weak rays of sunshine that seemed to have been saved up for him, solely – and then you kissed him, unable to resist wide eyes and longing mouth, and he kissed you back. Touched you, and you let your hands wander down his body, not missing a single line on it, not missing an inch before your hand palmed his crotch. You could sit and kiss him forever, could bask in him and his body for eternity – but you were impatient, too, especially when it came to him, to your lover. When it was him, you lost control of yourself, of your body, of your soul. It belonged to him entirely, all of it.

He let you sink onto him. Hyunjin let you bury your face in the sweatiness of his neck, in its’ sensitivity, let you groan out into his ear as you felt him bottom out entirely. He let you adjust to him, and you let him hold you, against him, against his body, your heart against his own, chest to chest. You let him whisper sweet nothings, promises, and confessions, and entire worlds. You loved his never tiring tongue in moments of intimacy – he talked and talked and talked, words sweeter than honey could ever be, and sounds more sinful than anything you’d ever known.

You screamed out when he moved. Thrusting his hips into your own, up and deeper inside of you, and you struggled to keep your composure. Your arms snug tightly around his body, around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer – you melted into one as he kept moving into you, both hands keeping a steady position on your hips, to hold you in place, or to grant you stability, or to grant himself some. And the room erupted into a symphony of your voices, of your moans and grunts and sighs, whispers and whines of each other’s names. Your senses filled with everything that was him – his voice, deep and longing and loud in your ear, his hand bruising your flesh, groping at you so harshly you saw stars, his scent, his golden body, his mouth on your skin. Everything was him, his erection so very deep within you that it almost hurt, though not quite, his right hand which suddenly found its’ way to your clit again. Drawing figures eight there impatiently as his hips grew frantic, slowly losing rhythm.

Your body ignited. It was hot, it was wet and a mess, and it was fifteen minutes past four. The broken clock on the wall behind Hyunjin capturing you two in its’ timelessness, in its infinity. It had stopped solely for you, for your love, for your souls. Your eyes closed shut when Hyunjin bit against your neck, when his teeth grazed your skin just deep enough to not break it, to not draw blood, and you came against his body in shaking waves, with a broken moan which was swallowed by the man in an instant. You felt him fill you up as he groaned into the kiss, as he let his tongue enter your mouth in lazy manner, careless now of sloppiness, of the lack of coordination. He held you close, he thrusted into you tiredly, he let you hold him. He let you kiss him, just as tired, just as lazy, basking in him, in his taste, in his scent.

Milan was beautiful. Night began to drown the city in darkness, buildings and trees, cars and people and the world losing color, quieting down. But it was still fifteen minutes past four – and you sat in Hyunjin’s hold for an eternity longer, in hushed giggles and shy confessions, and loved each other throughout the entirety of the night.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

[stray-kaz]

Dance With Me : OPLA men x f!reader blurbs

Summary: Slow dancing with the boys.

Dracule Mihawk

The heavy oak door swung inward under your palm, fingers spread to bear the weight. The moment you stepped into the dim library, the noise muffling fell away and you could hear both the soft scratch of a pencil and the pop and skip of an old fashioned gramophone. You smiled and followed the sounds, eventually discovering your captain half buried in immaculate first editions, note taking.

"Here you are" you said quietly, even though you knew he had already heard you.

Ochre eyes flicked to you with a feline's lazy precision and you offered a smile, folding your arms over your chest.

"I have been looking everywhere for you."

Mihawk arched one eyebrow.

"Clearly not everywhere, little bird" he said calmly. "But yes, here I am."

You took a step closer and gestured at his stack of books and the ledger he was scrawling in.

"Are you busy?" you asked him. "I can go. I was just wondering where you'd gotten to."

He shook his head and pivoted his chair to face you, legs spread, hands outstretched to invite you onto his lap. He bit back a smile as your eyes lit up; you never turned down an opportunity to let him hold you. You joined him on the chair, settling sideways across him, your head on his shoulder.

A few minutes passed in easy silence before the song changed and you glanced at the gramophone, curiosity piqued. Mihawk took in the new tension in your body and lifted a hand to stroke gentle fingertips down the back of your neck, following your gaze.

"Do you like this song?" he asked, a little surprised there was something he didn't yet know about you.

You nodded, and began drumming your fingers on his knee in time with the music, your eyes closing. Mihawk watched you start to smile and made a decision. He rose suddenly, making you squeak in surprise as he held you off the floor and kissed your forehead.

"Would you like to dance, little bird?" he asked quietly.

Your answering smile peaked in your eyes and he lowered you carefully to your feet and wrapped his arms around your waist. You lifted yours to wind about his neck, twining your fingers eagerly in his dark hair. He rolled his eyes a bit, but you dutifully ignored this; he knew how you loved his hair and was never brave enough to cut it.

He swayed you side to side slowly, a little out of time with the tune, but you didn't care. Here in his arms was your favourite place to be.

The record popped and scratched and you felt a strong finger underneath your chin, propping your head up. You met his eyes, the colour of the new horizon, and saw them flicker, his head moving slowly towards yours, giving you time to turn away. But you never wanted to, and you accepted his kiss as you always did, with the barest restraint.

Mihawk smiled, feeling you push into him, and pulled away to rest his chin on top of your head.

"Another time, little bird" he murmured. "We are dancing, hmm?"

Shanks

You were finishing up your night shift at the bar, wiping down tables and tipping chairs upside down and singing quietly to yourself when a familiar pair of arms snuck around your middle, tightening on your stomach and pulling you backward into a solid body.

You glanced over your shoulder at Shanks and shook your head, tsking gently at him.

"I'm not done here" you reminded him.

He nuzzled the tender side of your neck and you fought to hold your eyes open and not let the cloth in your hand fall to the planks beneath your feet.

"And if I say different?" Shanks mumbled into your skin.

You reached up and swatted him with the cleaning cloth; he laughed and released you.

"Okay, okay, I get it. I understand a no when I hear one."

You snorted and kept your back to him, finishing wiping down the surface of the wooden bar. The second you dropped the cloth over the other side to be washed later, you were grabbed once more. You laughed and eased back against him, pretending badly that you didn't thrill at the weight of his hands on your hips.

"What tune were you singing just now?" he asked, tilting his head down low to speak gently into your ear. "It sounded pretty."

You hummed a few bars and nodded your head back on him.

"Just something my mama used to sing me to sleep with."

"Does it have a name?"

Your gaze slid away.

"No, not really."

Shanks knew better than to push. He carefully turned you to face him, kneading at the flesh on your hips.

"Dance with me, love" he murmured.

You gestured around you to the dark, empty bar and the sea beyond it.

"To what music?"

Shanks tugged you against his chest and slowly moved your hands up to rest on his shoulders. He scrunched his nose as you flushed a little at his closeness.

"Doesn't matter that there's no music" he assured you. "I can dance without it."

You raised an eyebrow in an attempt to diffuse the heat in your cheeks.

"Can you?" you retorted.

He rolled his eyes and spun you out, catching your hand at the last second and reeling you back in, catching you breathless and wide eyed against his chest.

"What was the question?" he asked, arching his eyebrows.

You didn't answer, too busy trying to count the gold flecks in his hazel eyes. He tipped his head to the side, but you didn't really notice. He rested his thumb on your chin.

"Hey" he said gently, reaching for your attention. "What was the question, love?"

You blinked and the words escaped before you could snatch them back.

"Could you kiss me?"

That was not the question he expected. He had been dancing around you for months, every time they made port here, teasing, dropping hints, but you hadn't seemed to pick any of them up. This response was unanticipated.

He blinked, his mouth opening slightly. You pulled in his grip, turning your face away from his hand.

"You don't have to" you mumbled, embarrassed and flailing.

Before you could turn on him completely, he slid his hands down your arms and grasped your hands, his fingers stroking over your skin.

"But I want to."

His tone was gentle and you blinked, taken by surprise. Your lips parted slightly, but before you could respond, Shanks kissed you. His lips melded to yours as if they were made for that purpose only: kissing you. You made some soft noise and he pulled away, looking cautiously down at you.

"Okay?" he checked.

You pulled him down and he smiled against your mouth before kissing back, starting to sway again.

Okay.

Sanji

You snuck back into the kitchen after dinner, sidling up behind Sanji and whipping the drying towel out of his hand.

"Hey!"

He pivoted quickly to find you grinning up at him, triumph in your eyes.

"Let me help" you instructed, raising an eyebrow.

He shook his head, hair falling into his left eye as usual.

"Nope. I told you I don't need help, sweetheart. Now move your cute self and give me that back" he retorted, holding out his hand.

You shook your head, too, and danced out of his reach.

"Let me help you" you repeated.

Sanji tried to frown at you, and failed. He threw his hands in the air and leaned back against the bench, folding his arms across his chest and eyeing you.

"Fine. You win. Dry the dishes then. Such a victory."

You nudged your way in next to him and pressed a kiss to his covered shoulder, your hip bumping his leg as you swayed gently to music only you could hear.

"Your sarcasm has no effect on me, chef. I grew up with Zoro. I am immune."

Sanji rolled his eyes as you carried on drying the rack full of clean dishes, silently welcoming the light thud of your hip against him every time you swayed too close.

When you were finally done, he stole the towel back and tossed it over his shoulder onto the metal bench. He stood closer to you, if that was even possible, and smiled, cocking his head slightly.

"What's that music you listen to in your pretty head, sweetheart?" he asked, curious.

"Violins."

You eyed him and he reached for your hand, stroking your fingertips before sliding his palm against yours.

"What are they playing?" he asked quietly.

You looked down at his hand holding yours, engulfing it whole.

"A waltz" you murmured, glancing back up at his face.

Sanji's blue eyes sparked and you bit your lip. He held out his other hand to you.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked eagerly. "It's been a while, I admit, but I think I can remember the steps."

You slipped your free hand into his and let him guide you into the middle of the kitchen, before shifting positions to hold your right hand high and settle your left on his shoulder, his right coming to rest firmly near your shoulder blade. You stared into his eyes as he murmured the countdown and then began to lead you around the confined space, never once stepping on your toes.

It had been so long since a man danced with you like this, and your heart pounded a rough tattoo against your ribs.

Suddenly, you felt strong fingers on your chin, tipping it up so your eyes met a blue pair.

"Where did you go?" he asked softly.

"The past" you admitted.

His smile was slow, warm, melting your insides.

"I'm not in your past, love" he reminded you gently. "I'm right here."

You nodded.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologise" he assured you. "Anything I can do?"

"Kiss me."

It was a breathless request, one answered with a kiss that took the rest of your breath away, warm lips on yours, no oxygen required.

Zoro

"No."

It was the first word out of Zoro's mouth when you had asked him to dance at the dockside club, and it was also the second word out of his mouth when you offered him a sad pout and puppy dog eyes to attempt to sway him. He would not be swayed.

He wouldn't dance when he'd had one drink, or two, or even three. He just stared at you and slowly patted his thigh until you gave up and plonked down in a huff, folding your arms tightly over your chest in a dramatic show of annoyance.

Sitting across from you at the bar, Nami smirked at your sore predicament as Zoro snaked his free arm snugly around your middle and pressed his chin onto your shoulder.

"Mm, love you" he mumbled, stroking his thumb up your ribs below your breast.

"Then dance with me" you protested, unable to keep yourself from wrapping your fingers around his wrist just to touch him.

You felt him shake his head against you.

"No."

"Why?" you groused.

"Don't want to" he said simply.

You rolled your eyes, disentangled yourself from his grasp and dragged Nami onto the dance floor.

And now, back on the Going Merry, Zoro closed the door to your shared room with a louder bang than he needed to. He leaned back on it with his arms crossed firmly and his jaw set, ticking slightly.

"What was that about?" he asked, not quite demanding. "You ran off with Nami and left me with the waiter. You know I can't stand him."

You turned from where you had been shucking off your boots and sighed.

"And you know I like dancing. You wouldn't, but Nami did, so..."

You waved a hand in the air and Zoro closed his eyes, tilting his head back onto the door with a thunk.

"Is that what it was about?" he groaned.

"Yep."

He pushed himself off the door and held out his hands. Slouching a bit, you met him halfway across the room and took them, tipping your head back to see his face.

"What?" you mumbled.

He arched a perfect eyebrow.

"You can dance with me here as easy as anywhere else, can't you?"

You huffed, but it was only to hide a smile as you stepped closer to him again and released one of his hands to wrap the arm around his waist. His now freed hand came up to rest on the back of your head, pressing it gently to his chest. He held your hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb.

He followed the roll and shift of the ocean below to guide his footing as he swayed you side to side, his heart beating a little quicker than usual under your ear. You smiled again and rubbed your cheek against his shirt, warmed by his skin.

"Thank you" you said quietly, muffled by fabric.

Zoro stroked your hair.

"Don't get used to it, princess."

Tagging: @writingmysanity @elizabeth-karenina

[enwoso]

Could you maybe write something for lia wälti? Maybe her and reader are babysitting a friends toddler, just some domesticity and lia swooning at r interacting with the kid

CAN’T WAIT - lia wälti

"me want to help!" poppy smiled sweetly giving you those cute little eyes that made it so hard for you to say no to. "okay, you can have your own special job!" you smiled as you picked her up and sat her on the counter top, a small little cheer coming from the four year old as you tried to think of something you could give her to do to keep her little brain occupied for some time.

“look, so first we snap the end off then you’ll can open and put the peas in here” you demonstrated to poppy how to do the pea pods and she nodded as you showed her, a little smile appearing on her face as she managed to open a pod by herself.

“good job!” you smiled, holding you hand up for the little girl to high five. your girlfriend watching on as her heart warmed watching you interact with the young girl, her mind wandering for a moment about what life would be like when the two of you had your own little family, leaving her wondering if you had thought about it too.

poppy was your older brothers daughter, a confident little girl who was not scared to say or do anything. which sometimes would get the little girl in some trouble but it would always make for great stories when she was older.

you and lia had offered to look after poppy after your brother was left stuck after your mum had gotten her dates mixed up and could no longer look after poppy while your brother and his wife went for some spa retreat for their anniversary.

and if you were being honest part of you was glad your mum had gotten her date mixed up as it had meant you could spend some quality time with your niece.

you had picked the little girl up from school, surprising her as she came out the classroom running into both yours and lia's arms while talking at a hundred miles per hour at how excited she was to see the both of you.

chatting both yours and your girlfriends ears off the whole car ride back to yours and lia’s home, telling you every detail of her day from what she had for breakfast to what colour pencil she coloured her drawing in with at school.

now she was ‘helping’ make dinner and by that she was just ordering you and lia around. “can you help?” she asked as she held up a pea pod for you to open for her, you had given her the job of opening a few of them but realistically she was just getting you or lia to open them for her so she could eat the peas out of them.

“don’t forget to put the peas in here poppy!” you reminded her pointing to the blue little tub you had given poppy minutes earlier, “i won’t!” poppy sung out, as you handed her the pea pod back, and within seconds she was slotting two peas in her mouth and putting one in the little blue tub.

“think it’s a bit late for that love!” lia whispered nudging you to look inside the bowl, where there was three little peas in there as you looked to the swiss and mumbled an ‘ah’

“poppy! your not supposed to be eating them!” lia said as she caught the little girl putting another one of the peas in her mouth instead on in her little blue tub.

“me not wally, there’s some in my tub!”

“i guess we aren’t having peas tonight..” you whispered in lia’s ear as you rested your head on shoulder, while reaching to get some of the other ingredients for dinner that were on lia’s side of the kitchen, pressing a quick kiss behind her ear.

“she too cute to be mad at, so i guess it’s okay!” your girlfriend quietly said at the two of you watched for a moment as poppy used her teeth this time to bite the end of the pod, putting all three peas in her mouth, the two of you quickly laughing at the little girls antics.

“me don’t like broccoli” poppy said as she watched you pick that up first out of the ingredients you had moved to your side of the kitchen counter, as she pulled a disgusted face as she watched you chop a little bit of the stork of the broccoli.

“don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep the greens to a minimum for you!” lia smiled, knowing that you would put them in the dinner but cut them up really fine making the chances of the little girl even noticing them very slim.

“my daddy says they look like tiny trees he doesn’t like them either” poppy said making your girlfriend giggle at the comment as you smiled shaking your head, that was what your brother used to tell you mum when she would ask him to eat his broccoli.

“well he’s not wrong”

now that dinner was out the way, you had decided on a film to watch. curtesy of poppy's choice it was settled you were watching luca. which you knew she had only picked for one reason.

“can we please skip to the silenzio bruno part?” poppy asked looking up at both you and lia as she was tucked up in between the two of you in her princess pyjamas.

“pops, we gotta watch it from the start!” lia smiled moving the loose hairs out from the front of her face as poppy mumbled a fine.

lia looked over and smiled over at you, as you moved a little closer to lia resting your head on her shoulder as she played with your hair. your breathing slowing out as you felt your body begin to relax.

by the time the film actually got to the part poppy wanted it at she had fallen asleep, soft snores coming from the four year olds lips. “i’ll go and take her up” you said as lia nodded as she kissed your cheek before you moved.

lifting poppy up carefully along with her little stuffed toy that she had took attached to her all evening, and carefully retreating to the spare bedroom where you had set up made the bed for poppy - putting two pillows at either side to make sure she didn’t fall out of the bed during the night.

tucking the little girl in with her teddy and blanket before kissing the top of her head and leaving the little night light on that your brother said she slept with on when she was at home before moving towards the door as closing it a little bit.

quickly going back down the stairs to where lia was, and walking into the living room to see that the swiss had not moved a muscle as she scrolled through her phone that was in her hand.

crashing on top of the swiss with a big sigh as she groaned, luckily being able to move her phone out the way quick enough to avoid it hitting her in the face.

“who would have thought looking after a four year old would be so tiring” you mumbled into her chest as your eyes felt heavy with tiredness.

“basically a full time job, baby” lia whispered as she giggled a little as you felt the vibrations of lia’s laugh from her chest.

you sat up, straddling lia as her hands found your waist, travelling a little up the back of your hoodie tracing small circles in your lower back. “i can’t wait until that us with our own little baby” lia said, at your eyes widened and lia began to back peddle. “no- no that- i” her face full of worry, scared that she had said the wrong thing.

you cut lia off by kissing her, smiling into the kiss as you hands went to the back of her neck. the kiss was pure and full of love and reassurance, pulling away after a few minutes, pecking her lips a few more times before lingering close to lia’s face smiling big as her face was now relaxed.

“i can’t wait to start a family with you either”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Nena II

Barcelona Femení x Child!Reader

Summary: Just another day at your sister's work

You giggled as Asisat lifted from her shoulders and swung you around. Your tummy went all fluttery in a good way as she kept going before releasing you to stumble about.

She caught you when you lost your footing, putting you upright again and smothering a laugh when you fell right back onto the floor.

"Again?" She asked.

You got up immediately, nodding. "Uh-huh!"

"I think we should take a break," Sandra said as she approached," Or the little miss might throw up her breakfast."

"Ingrid's Mapi made pancakes!" You said excitedly," And Ingrid let me have syrup with it!"

"Wow!" Sandra said to you before turning to Asisat," It'll be a pain to clean if she pukes that all up and then you'll have to explain to Ingrid why we've got her kid sister throwing up her food."

"Alright." Asisat ruffled your hair. "Maybe later then."

"Later!" You agreed before allowing Sandra to take your hand and lead you to a shady area.

You had fallen into an easy routine in the past few weeks you've spent in Barcelona. Ingrid and her Mapi would get you ready for the day where one of their teammates (usually Frido or Keira) would take you out onto the field where you would sit in the shady area where the goalkeepers practiced.

Today, though, you were joined by familiar faces.

"Jana! Bruna! Look, I made pictures!"

The two girls, cleared from medical enough to lightly train but not enough to do the extremely complicated drills that were currently going on, hung out with you.

"That is very good, y/n," Jana complimented," You're the best colourer."

"I am very good." You knew that already because Ingrid and her Mapi told you often but, still, it was nice to be recognised for your talent. "You colour."

You tore a sheet out of your book and gave it to Jana along with a purple pencil.

You did the same for Bruna before deciding, after watching her for a moment, that she wasn't doing well so you sat on her lap and helped her.

"In the lines," You told her, parroting the words your Papa used to say to you," So it's not messy anymore. Don't worry. You'll get better when you practice more."

"Gracias, y/n," Bruna said," I'm sure with an expert like you, I will get it in no time."

You nodded and grabbed another sheet. "Mama says you have to practice to get better. She says that's why Ingrid's so good at the ball game so you have to practice your colouring, Bruna. So you can get better."

The warm Spanish sun beat down upon you and your friends as the other girls trained. When it get even hotter, Jana and Bruna gave you two bottles of water and sent you on your way with them.

"Gemma! Cata!" You said as you approached," Here!"

"Our hero!" Cata said as she unscrewed the lid and drained it. "Thanks, kiddo! Gemma, thank her."

Gemma sprayed water at Cata. "I was going to before you interrupted." She leaned down to hug you before allowing you to chug from her drink. "Thanks for the drink, little buddy. Why don't you head on back to Jana and Bruna and do some more colouring? It's nearly time for lunch."

Gemma was right because no sooner had you completed your third picture, did Marta and Caro come to collect you.

Your hand fit easily into Caro's hand and you took Marta's too - just because you could. Together, they swung you into the air every few steps and you giggled ecstatically every time.

Marta laughed with you while Caro settled for just a smile. You beamed at them both - especially when Caro decided to make a pitstop to get you a chocolate bar from the vending machine.

Marta ended up making your plate for lunch and no matter how much you begged and begged, she stuck to the list of approved food your sister had given her.

"Go on, nena," She said, directing you to a very full table," Can I trust you girls to look after her?" The occupants of said table all nodded and she gave them a fierce look before relenting.

Lucy stopped you from sitting down, grabbing her jacket to pile it onto the empty seat. She nudged Keira. "Pass it over." Once Keira surrendered her own jacket as well as Ona, Salma and Esmee, Lucy used them all to create a makeshift booster seat for you before plonking you onto it and pushing your food closer.

"I heard you had a fun weekend, nena," Ona said with a smile, glancing around before pushing part of her nice food onto your plate.

You nodded. "Uh-huh, Ingrid took me to the park and her Mapi let me take Bagheera on a walk."

Esmee rolled her eyes with a huff of a laugh. "She spoils that cat."

"Bagheera's my best boy," You replied to her, cramming food into your mouth," He naps in sunspots and sleeps in my bed with me."

"Really?" Keira asked before glaring daggers at Lucy," Sounds just like Narla."

You cocked your head to the side. "Tia Alexia's dog sleeps in her bed?"

"She means my dog," Lucy said as she ruffled your hair," I have a dog called Narla too."

You made a face. "That's mean, Lucy," You said," You shouldn't name your dog after Tia's Nala. She could get bullied."

Salma, on your other side, laughed. "I don't think dogs get bullied, nena."

"Cats get bullied," You said," Ingrid's Mapi said that's why Bagheera isn't allowed out without her - because the neighbourhood cats bully him. The other dogs could bully Lucy's Narla."

Salma chuckled as she ruffled your hair and shovelled food into your mouth. "Never change, nena. You're adorable."

You made a face at that but didn't argue, allowing Salma to feed you to rest of your meal.

You got restless halfway through lunch and slipped off your seat to tug on Irene's sleeve. You bounced up and down urgently. "Toilet," You said to her because she was Mateo's mama and your mama told you that every mama in the world recognised the potty dance.

Thankfully, your mama was right because Irene excused herself from her conversation and took your hand, leading you to the bathroom.

You did your business quickly but had to be lifted up to reach the sink and then again to use the hand dryer - bursting into hysterical giggles when Irene poked you in the stomach when your top rode up.

By the time you got out of the toilet, lunch had finished and Mariona joined the two of you on your walk to the gym.

"Looking cool in your shoes, nena," She said.

You grinned at her proudly. "They're my most favourite!" Yet again, you had chosen to wear your new light-up shoes. You had been wearing them a lot recently so now Ingrid didn't get worried your feet would start aching because they had finally been broken in.

"Well, they're my most favourite too!" Mariona replied.

"Good!" You said firmly, patting her side in approval with a smiling face. Mariona was pretty cool most of the time when she wasn't running around like a headless chicken and she was doubly cool when she talked to you about your new shoes.

"Are we talking about super cool light-up shoes because..." Patri stamped her feet and the bottom of her shoes lit up into a rainbow.

You gasped and jumped, showing that your shoes could do the same.

"I told you I'd find them, nena! Look at us, we're matching!"

"We are!"

Patri took your hands from Irene and jumped up and down with you, both of your shoes lighting up in sync. You giggled hysterically as the colours bounced.

Over her shoulder, you spied another recognisable face.

"Claudia! Claudia!" You exclaimed," Look! Look! We match!"

You and Patri jumped again to prove your point and Claudia gasped. She glanced around like she had a secret before beckoning you closer.

"You know what?" She asked.

"What?"

"All three of us match!"

She stamped her feet and her shoes lit up too.

You gasped.

"Wow! So cool!"

You looked around the room, holding onto Patri and Claudia and dragging them over to the corner of the gym.

"Aitana! Aitana! Aitana! We match!"

The three of you stamped your feet, causing the rainbow lights to appear again.

Aitana, as she lifted weights, smiled at you. "That's really cool, nena."

You looked down at Aitana's sad, boring shoes and sighed. You released Claudia and Patri to pat Aitana on the leg consolingly.

"It's okay," You told her," If you ask very nicely Claudia and Patri can take you to get matching shoes too."

She let out a chuckle. "Thanks, nena."

Before you could make any more suggestions though, you were pulled away from your friends by Frido, who promptly led you over to the opposite side of the gym which had been set up for your nap time.

You frowned. "Don't wanna nap," You complained.

Frido sighed. "I know. I don't want you to nap either but Ingrid says so."

You huffed. "Ingrid's not the boss of you."

Frido's eyebrows raised. "Somehow, I don't think Ingrid agrees with that. Come on, you, nap time. I'll get you some cake tomorrow if you nap now."

Your eyes narrowed. "With sprinkles?"

"With sprinkles."

"Okay. Naptime now."

Your nap went by very quickly and when you ended it, you still felt groggy.

Someone was touching you though and you squirmed around in their arms until your head was tucked into their neck. They were nice though, nice and warm even if they jostled you every time they took a step.

"You should take a picture for Olga," Your Ingrid's Mapi teased," It might get you one of these sooner rather than later."

"I'm quite content with this one." It was Tia Alexia's voice that spoke next and you realised that you were in her arms.

You blinked away your sleepiness and rubbed your eyes. "Hola, Tia," You said softly.

"Hola, nena," She replied," You slept a long while. I was getting worried you would sleep forever."

"Silly, Tia," You said," That's not possible."

"No?" She teased," Oh, silly me!" She bounced you. "It's nice to see you, nena. I was worried I wouldn't see you today."

"I always like seeing you, Tia," You replied.

"I like see you too."

You turned your head out of her neck and smiled softly at Ingrid's Mapi.

She smiled back at you, a small smile that was reserved only for you. "Hola, elskling," She said and her use of Ingrid's nickname for you made you feel all nice and fluttery inside. "We're heading home now. Ingrid's getting the car all nice and ready for us."

You nodded but didn't say anything else. You still felt kind of tired and sleepy so just soaked in Tia Alexia's warmth and the steady hum of talking between her and Ingrid's Mapi.

You didn't even notice when you moved from Tia Alexia's arms to your Ingrid's until you were placed in your car seat and strapped in.

Ingrid hovered over you as she wiped up the drool from your cheek. "Hi, elskling. Don't you look all nice and sleepy?"

"Frido made me nap," You replied, eyes drooping as she clipped in the last buckle," But I wasn't really sleepy."

"I bet you're sleepy now though, right?"

You nodded and yawned. "Little bit."

"That's alright, elskling," She said," You have a nice little nap in the car and then you can get up when we get home."

"Okay..." Your eyes drooped even lower. "Mapi?"

"Si, elskling?"

"Can we have cuddles with Bagheera on the sofa when I wake up?"

"Of course, elskling. I'm sure Bagheera would love to cuddle with you."

"And you."

"And me."

"And Ingrid."

"And Ingrid too."

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 2)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Smut in later parts, Age-Gap, Infidelity

Words: 1,867

Note: The fic is spoiler free and fantasy.

Later that day…

In the lavatory, you inspected your appearance for a moment. You were wearing an embroidered peasant blouse paired with a plain cardigan, a dark coloured skirt and a set of comfortable shoes. Your hair was pulled back in a random clip which, for the meeting with Dr Oppenheimer, you decided to remove. You looked much better with your hair being open and, just as you looked at yourself again, you felt a pang of anxiety, wondering what Dr Oppenheimer was truly thinking of you.

Did he think that you were smart and worthy his attention or did he simply took pity in you because you were a woman?

You then scrunched your eyebrows after a second of thought and adjusted your bag on your shoulder to prepare to face the beast.

For some reason, this man intimidated you and that also, somewhat, aroused you which was a combination of feelings that you never felt before.

Thus, almost hesitantly, you arrived at the lecture room at around 5 o’clock, which was almost thirty minutes after your last class for the day had finished and, when you walked into the somewhat dingy room, you saw him, standing there, looking at am array of calculations.

"You are late” Dr Oppenheimer then remarked without even looking at you at first before, finally, turning around.

"You didn't actually give me a time..."  you began to say as you walked towards him and watched him furrow his eyebrows.

“No, I suppose I didn’t” Dr Oppenheimer acknowledged before turning the chalkboard over so that you could not see his writing and calculations at all.

“Have you figured the problem with your calculation yet?” you asked almost bluntly as, awkwardly, you stood in front of him. Your lab coat was draped over your left forearm while your right hand held your bag's strap to your shoulder.

You kept your eyes forward, directly in line with where his neck met his chest before looking up into his deep blue eyes which, by this point, were full of questions.

“Who says that there is a problem with my calculations?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked almost out of the blue and a short moment passed before he took your coat and bag from your hands, laying them on the nearest table.

“I think that you took a wrong turn somewhere and…” you began to stammer just before released the nervous breath which you did not realise you were holding until he began to speak again.

“Sit, please” he gestured and, just after you complied with his request and sat down in front of his large wooden desk, you could feel Dr Oppenheimer’s presence next to you.

“Do you have a pen and some paper?” you asked and, of course, he did.

“Of course” Dr Oppenheimer said as he placed two white pieces of paper and a freshly sharpened pencil in front of you.

“Now, please show me your calculations” he then said while he stepped back but, even though he decided to give him some space, you could see him out of the corner of your eye, watching you as you worked.

You wrote down formula after formula, directly from your head and whilst this was nothing but theory, you imagined every single reaction in the back of your mind.

You were fast and Dr Oppenheimer’s mouth hung open as he watched you work, focusing intently to be sure that it all made sense until, suddenly, your mind went blank. The proximity was making you hot and you felt yourself burning up under your blouse.

“That’s it?” Dr Oppenheimer thus asked and you shook your head.

“I just lost my train of thought, again…” you said, sounding like an idiot, causing the professor to chuckle.

“Am I making you nervous?” he then asked and, as if you had not already embarrassed yourself enough, you nodded somewhat dumbfounded.

“Right. My apologies. I will just take a seat next to you” he then said before pulling another chair to the table and sitting down right next to you which did not make this situation any better whatsoever.

Of course, he was no longer towering over you, but he was now much closer to you than he was before, acting and behaving almost like an equal.

“Go on then” he said, wanting to resume your work while the heat of his body began to burn you. You squirmed uncomfortably on your stool until you had to put the pen down to take off your cardigan which, by this point, was still partially covering your blouse.

"What is it?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked somewhat concerned but you shook it off.

"Nothing, I am just hot" you said plainly before taking in a deep breath and resuming your calculations which is also when Dr Oppenheimer became more interested in again and decided that he needed a better view.

You were now getting to the point of where you assumed he made a mistake and he was intrigued by the route you were taking in your formula.

“Explain it to me” he demanded, wanting to know why you are calculating the chemical reaction in the way you were and you had no problem telling him, in scientific terms, as to how you arrived at your conclusions.

As such, you talked and talked while squirming around until, eventually, you got back into position and wrote down another formula, which was one Dr Oppenheimer had not considered before and, just as you placed pen on paper again, you felt something touch your neck. Not soft enough to be hair brushing your neck, but not enough pressure to feel entirely deliberate.

“You aren’t even looking?” you then said as you otherwise stayed completely still when felt Dr Oppenheimer adjust your twisted necklace.

“Because you did it wrong” he responded as he picked up the chain and turned the jewellery until the clasp is on the back, where he dropped it back onto the nape of your neck. If you did not know better, you would have thought you felt his fingertips linger a little longer on your skin than they should have lingered there, but you could not be too sure.

“I did? How?” you asked while thinking about the science as well as how his fingertips felt on you, raising goosebumps on your bare skin. Him moving your necklace would have been harmless and platonic if it was not for that hesitation at the end of the action. The half a second too long that his hand remained on you, brushing lightly at the skin on the side of your neck.

“Allow me” the professor then said before taring up one of your pages and giving a plain piece of paper to write on.

He then took the pen from your hand and wrote down what you had written until you took this wrong turn in your calculations, which is where he halted and prompted you to think.

“Think about implosion, not explosion” he said and, almost immediately, the penny dropped and you gently grabbed the end of the pencil he was holding while making sure to let one finger feather a touch onto one of his.

"May I?" you say quietly, feeling his eyes on the side of your face as you looked at the pencil. The whole exchange only lasted a couple of seconds before he released the utensil and you leaned down over the paper while letting your shoulder brush his.

"Is that right now?" you then asked innocently after finishing the formula, turning to look at him as you gauged his reaction. This was the first time you had really looked at him since he first started explaining where you went wrong, and you were not sure what you expected, but it was not this.

Dr Oppenheimer only had his left hand resting on the table now, his chest turned towards you as he searched your face and smiled. You smiled back and held his gaze, trying to think of something to break the moment while keeping the upper hand.

“I am impressed but…” he then began to say and, instead of saying anything to him in response, you remembered the pencil you were holding and quickly moved to hold it between you and him. Without looking at it, he reached forward and covered your hand with his, those blue eyes on the verge of pouring into you. He then slid the pencil out of your hand and leaned down one more time, changing one of your subtraction signs to an addition. In your mind, you honed in on the mistake, cursing his distraction for causing you to make a mistake in front of him.

"Now, you're perfect" Dr Oppenheimer then said nonchalantly as he stood back up.

“Hmm” you stammered while trying not to react to his comment, or the fact that he used your own tactics against you.

Considering the moment gone, you picked up the paper and retreated in order to quickly get out of there as you could not help but think that you made things almost awkward now. Not only did you have more questions now than you did previously, you feared you may have moved you both in a direction that bordered on inappropriateness.

Obviously, you were flirting with him and he was a married man in respect of whom you got no read on when it came to his intentions towards you, because you were so consumed by the moment. You were consumed to his body's reaction to yours, his eyes, his parting comment, saying that “now you’re perfect”…

You then recalled the moments when you feared that your cover was blown, that he caught on to what you were doing, namely flirting with him. Part of you hoped that he thought he was flattering himself, similar to how you have been feeling, but something about this man told you he scarcely denied his ego satisfaction.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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@delishen​

@nosebleeds-247​

@thirteenis-myluckynumber​

@gills-lounge​

@hjmalmed​

[mybelovedrin]

✷ ITOSHI RIN x reader. fluff, reader is a menace and rin just can't get enough of it. warnings: pointless drabbles = my fav note: i miiiisss writing on here ! sorry if there's typos. love y'all mwah

"ugh, this lipstick is too bold. i think a simple lipliner and some red gloss will be better."

"that's literally what i suggested earlier, but okay."

you let out a quiet and playful huff at the sound of his voice from the open bathroom, while looking through your makeup for that specific shade of brown lip liner between all the multiple nude, red, and other coloured ones. your look was entirely complete, except for your lips. it was frustrating. "okay, i admit i was being a smartass at first—"

"you're always being a smartass, though."

"and since when did my husband become so sassy?" you retort quickly as you scoff, giving him a look.

"...just saying." he shrugs while his eyes casually wander down your face and figure from the door frame of the bathroom. after all these years, he still thinks he's being sneaky while looking at you as if you're his air. you hold back a smile at the obviousness of it all, continuing to search for that stupid lip liner.

then you smell the familiar cologne and feel his warmth against your back as he exits the bathroom and stands behind you, his deadpan expression from the reflection in the mirror making you feel butterflies because you're the only one who knew what he was thinking. in fact, you even knew that he'd think carefully before finally speaking quietly in your ear, his voice being sweet like honey.

"you look stunning."

"thank you, rin." you flash him a cheeky smile after you find your lipliner, and he hands you a make up wipe from one of the compartments as if it was a piece of cake to remember where all your specific make up and skincare products were.

so as you wipe off the lipstick you currently regret wearing, his warm hands find their home on your hips, squeezing gently as he rests his chin on your shoulder and observes in the mirror how you wipe your lips and begin outlining them with a brown pencil. those sharp and calculating teal eyes of his looked at your lips with great interest. from your cupid's bow to the feeling of your lips against his that he could never forget— he adored it all.

however, as you accidentally get a little too much of your berry colored lip gloss on and make a noise of frustration, he instantly handed you another make up wipe. what a sweet husband.

but when you refuse it, the confusion on his calm face is enough to make you chuckle in amusement.

"keep the make up wipe for yourself." you speak quietly, staring at him as you turn around to face him and wrap your arms loosely around his neck, your heels making it way easier for you to be face to face with him.

he gives you a very lost look.

"why would i need a—"

he knows why, even before he finishes that sentence of his. it's not like he wanted to complete it anyway. he'd die a million times to have you interrupt his sentences with your lips on him.

your targets are familiar. first his lips, then his left cheek, right cheek— chin and forehead. his pale skin was now covered in shiny red lip prints.

oh, and did he mention that he'd die a million times (once again) to see the smile on your face that you offer him after those kisses?

"it's fine now. got rid of the excess. that make up wipe is yours to use, honey." you say with a soft snicker, patting his chest lightly as you grab your purse and go downstairs, leaving him in your shared bedroom with your lip gloss all over his face and a pounding heart inside his ribcage.

rin sighs, fighting the urge to smile as he pinches the bridge of his nose, a soft groan escaping his lips as he stands there for a moment, his knees weak and heart racing from what just happened.

he stares at the make up wipe in his hand for a moment, cursing under his breath as he wipes the gloss off his skin.

you win for now. he'll get you back some other day.

[hhhhleb]

Marc tries really hard… he does…

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3

So a lot of text again I suppose haha!

Was thinking about how they would get to know each other. And how M&S are getting ahold of the situation oh-god-we-got-a-kid-here. So, Steven will be more accepting&understanding about it, but Marc would be more initiative. And I’ll explain that now:)

We see how terrified Marc is when he says ‘we blacked out’ in ep6. It could be because he afraid that he ‘made to suffer’ someone else. He already feels guilty that Steven “appeared” in the first place, and is just devasted when Steven found out about Wendy.

Marc is a very deeply loving and very deeply feeling person. Incredibly sensitive, and so closed up because of it. He’s not ready for another guilt trip of his mind.

So I think that he would completely deny Jake till the ‘oh he’s only a kid’ moment. Then all the brother love would burst out of him. He would buy albums, paints, brushes, colour pencils, watercolours, canvases etc just for him. The ‘proud corner’ is basically his idea. He had made something similar as a kid for Roro. So. Yes.

He’s not really good at communicating with him, but he loves him very, very deeply, and adores him in every way possible:) he’s always eager to do smt for Jake, with time they will learn how to be real brothers:3

Therefore all M&J&S communication falls on Steven’s shoulders.

He is better in understanding Jake, what he wants, what to tell him. It was his idea to make some personal space for Jake, his own table with lots of shelves for his car models, instruments, interesting things he found on the street, his drawings, things he did out of clay(so, all his stuff basically). Steven choose and assembled both table and shelves himself. (I think he himself did the interior of histheir home, Marc bought an empty apartment and just let Steven do whatever he wants lmao. So he quite experienced in all that furniture stuff) And it was hell of a process I might add AHHA He wanted it to be perfect, so he was pretty anxious while preparing all that, and when they finally introduced Jake his new space and oh it is the thing I actually planning to draw soon so nope I’m stopping my self right here:D

To sum up, they’re doing their best to live a happy simple normal life and they are damn good at it:3

ps yes jake burns all his drawings so he doesn't get caught. steven always wondered why the wiring in his house is so bad...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 18

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: happy weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“How do you like it?” Luciana asks as she spins you to face the mirror.

Your eyes round at your own reflection. You can’t help but lean forward to get a better look at yourself. You never had a haircut like this. Nothing more than the discount trims that were often worse than not just growing it out or your at-home hack job.

“Wow,” is all you can utter.

“I hope that’s a good wow,” she chimes.

“Uh, yes, yes,” you sit back and tear your eyes from the mirror. “Thank you, it’s–”

“Oh, aren’t you so lovely!” Frigga interrupts as her heels click across the salon, “oh, it’s so wonderful. Look at you!”

Before you can react, the chair’s turning again. Frigga sweeps your hands away from under the cape and pulls you to your feet. Luciana moves to undo the long black shroud and swipes it away from your body, littering more hair onto the floor.

“Just a moment,” Luciana girds and brushes the stray bits from the back of your shirt, “there we are.”

“I must say, darling, you are even more stunning than I thought,” she keeps a hold of your right hand, “oh, Eliana, El!” She tweets across the salon, “what about makeup? Hm? Nothing too heavy, maybe a lip and some mascara–”

The platinum blond chuckles, endeared by her demanding client. You see where Laufeyson inherited that; the way the command rather than ask. You could never.

“I’ll take the little fawn,” Eliana agrees, “I have just the thing in mind.” She approaches on her long slender legs, “she has perfect colouring.”

You can’t help but preen at the compliments. You’re not used to them yet, you doubt them. These women are all so put together and gorgeous, surely they’re just being nice. You’re so much the opposite, your like a novelty; a doll for them to dress up.

“Sit,” Eliana points to another chair, “just relax, honey, I’ll take care of you.”

Frigga lets you go and you obey. You climb up into the chair and gasp as the back reclines. Eliana starts by swabbing your face with a cool liquid then pats it dry. Next, she applies a fragrant moisturizer. Her touch is relaxing but strange. You’re not used to anyone touching you.

You close your eyes as she sets to her work. She explains that she’s applying some liner and how to get a little wing at the end. She says you should keep it thin and subtly, then has you check your first eye in the mirror.

“You see, a nice brown, or grey is all you need, black is so harsh,” she shows you the pencil she used.

“Oh, thanks,” you murmur.

“Let’s even that out,” she nudges you back again and you appease her.

As she draws on your other eyelid, you hear a subtle buzz, followed by Frigga’s shrill greeting. She apologises to someone unseen before she carries on her call, heels tapping further and further away. You can hardly focus between her, Eliana’s directions, and the chatter all around you.

“Mmhmm, yes we were thinking of the Garden…” Frigga trails off as the door rings then swiftly blocks out her conversation.

“Mascara, look up,” Eliana directs, again, you obey. There’s nothing else you can do.

As nice as it all is, the hair, the makeup, and all her lovely plans, you can’t help but be embarrassed. Frigga, and Mr. Laufeyson, know you can’t afford all this. It doesn’t feel as much like kindness as it does condescension. As if they are the blessed elite giving you, a noone, with all their privileges. 

It’s not a kind gesture, but a statement. You’re so far below them, you don’t even know what you don’t have. If you are to be anywhere near them, you have to fit their mold.

🧹

After the salon, Frigga drags you down the shopping strip. You shy away from the gleaming windows and the faceless mannequins in their luxurious outfits. You couldn’t wear any of it. It wouldn’t look right. Anyone would know in an instant that you don’t belong.

Inside the first shop, you make yourself as small as you can, crossing one arm to cling to the other, folding your shoulders in. You’re frightened of brushing against anything or knocking over that hand display with all the jewelry on it. As you pass a mirror, you nearly trip. You forget for a moment that it’s you staring back.

You shake your head and back away. You don’t like that feeling. You don’t recognize yourself. Even if you never really loved the girl looking back, she was familiar.

“Darling,” Frigga gives you a start as she nears, “how about this? Hm? It’s absolutely adorable.”

She holds up a purple dress; almost like an overall but more refined with three buttons along the right side. She has a plain white blouse behind it. It’s lovely but you don’t know if you like the length. You don’t think you’ve worn a skirt since grade school.

“Oh, it’s… nice.”

“Come on, try it on,” she pleads, “it would look so good on you, darling. With your figure.”

You gulp and blink, looking down at yourself. What figure? The boxy button-up and straight-legged tweed don’t betray much of that. Your body is your body; it’s just there.

“I’ll try,” you relent. It wouldn’t be polite to say no.

“Alright, you take this to a dressing room and I’ll find some shoes,” she shoves the hangers at you, “excuse me,” she turns and waves to the associate who greeted you on entry, “yes, please, she needs a room.”

The woman with ginger curls approaches and you hand over your, or rather, Frigga’s picks. Her name tag reminds you of her introduction; Celia. She guides you into the back to a large room lined with curtained stalls. She takes you to one and hangs the clothing within. You thank her quietly and turn to stare at the lilac fabric.

You sigh and pull the curtain shut. You strip away reluctantly. It’s all so surreal, you don’t want to believe it. You’re wary of the unusual good luck, the unearned generosity. Why would Mr. Laufeyson agree to this? And why would Frigga want to spend time with you, a maid wearing a title beyond her means?

“Darling, are you ready?” Frigga calls through as her heels tap out her arrival.

“Almost,” you call back, shimmying into the purple overall as you try not to rumble the sleeves of the blouse. 

You refuse to look at yourself before you face the curtain and brace yourself. You step out as Frigga waits patiently, sitting on one of the leather poufs with a pair of white loafer flats in her lap, little silver bows clasped by the toe.

“Oh my,” she gasps as she rises, “oh darling, that’s… that becomes you. Oh,” she nears and hands you the shoes, “put these on then. Let’s see the whole look.”

Like most things in life, you let her bowl you over. You just go along with what you’re told. You go through the motions numbly, waiting for it to be over.

You bend to slip into the shoes one at a time. Once you stand, she ushers you around to face the mirror. She squeezes your shoulders before playing with your hair, setting you straights as she stands behind you.

“Look at you, darling,” she purrs. 

You falter as you see the woman staring back at you. That’s you! You can hardly see yourself under it all. You press your hands to the skirt, wishing for a few more inches, and squeak the soles on the floor as you shift awkwardly in the stiff leather.

“This is it. It suits you so well. Sharp collars, cinched here,” she touches your waist, “I think we have a good start.”

“Um, thanks, but er…”

“You can wear that out. It’s a lovely outfit for lunch,” she insists, “but I’m thinking a few boucle jackets, some matching skirts, a splash of pastel,” she rambles on dreamily, “pearls, of course, maybe some rose gold…”

Your brow pinches over your nose. You don’t know what to do. You can’t say no and even if you were brave enough to, you don’t think she’d hear you. She’s like her son, that way. She only sees what she wants and there’s no denying her.

“Oh, thank you so much for humouring me,” she drawls, “you know, ever since the divorce, I’ve been terribly lonely.” You’re startled by her sudden shift. You blink at her, “my own daughter was never one for the shops, at least, not with me but Sif… she… well, c’est la vie.”

“I… I’m sorry.”

“Why? Oh, don’t apologise, it is me who should,” she laughs at herself as she leads you back into the shop room, “to you and your own mother. I have accosted her daughter!”

You nod and seal your lips. You feel the pluck in your chest. You distract yourself with a nearby dress; it’s beige and boring.

“I hate to overstep but Loki did mention your father is sick. I’m certain it can’t be easy,” she hums, “it never is. You and your mother–”

“My mother…” you pipe up, voice cracking. You shake off the wave of dizziness and sigh, “my mother is dead.”

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry,” she touches her chest, “dear me, I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have–”

“I’m not upset. I never knew her,” you shrug and move on to a more colourful dress. “Just me and dad.”

“Well, it’s nice you have each other,” she says.

“Yeah,” you agree dully.

She’s quiet as she browses beside you, sifting through hangers. Tension ripples between you. Neither of you know what to say.

“How about this?” She holds up a satin blouse in a dainty shade of rose, “it would compliment your complexion.”

“Um, sure,” you let the thickness in the air slake away, “I… I’m not picky.”

“Oh, darling, you are too agreeable,” she teases, “you best not let my son play on that. He could always hear a no or two, yes?”

You nod, uncertain what she means. He’s your boss, you don’t tell him no. He doesn’t ask for your input. He just says and you do. That’s why you’re here. He needed a toy to give his mother, and you’re playing along.

🧹

The restaurant is just as resplendent and upscale as the shops. You try to keep stride with Frigga as she struts up to the open doors, a hostess standing behind a podium just outside as the sunlight beams down in a mid-afternoon haze. She smiles at the elder blonde as she greets her with enthusiasm.

“Good afternoon, we were hoping for a table outside,” Frigga declares.

“For two?” The hostess asks as she looks down at the tablet in front of her.

“A bigger table, please, we have someone joining us,” she answers.

“Great, we can fit you in,” the woman assures and waves you through the small gate of the patio. 

She takes you to a table near the colourful flower beds and offers the drink menu. Frigga thanks her and sits as you mimic her. You do your best not to fidget despite the persistent displacement zinging through your nerves. She browses the menu and taps her groomed fingernail on the table.

“Is it too early for Zinfandel?” She wonders.

“Oh, I don’t… know,” you put your own menu down, content with a glass of cranberry juice.

“Or perhaps a white?” 

You shrug. You don’t drink. You never have and never really thought of trying it. You rub your cheek and look around, squirming at the other diners in their carefree conversations. What are you doing here?

A new server approaches and takes your orders. Frigga gets her wine and you murmur your request for a glass of juice. You hand over the menus and she checks her slender golden watch.

“Mm, I did say two,” she tuts and takes out her phone.

It’s almost amusing to see someone disappointed in Mr. Laufeyson. To be on the other side of the table. You’re not the one rushing to meet a deadline for once. You twiddle your hands in your lap and peer around at the din.

A table of women sit with cocktails and green salads, gabbing loudly. They are probably your age. Friends. Something you never had. Probably never will.

“Mother,” a voice proclaims across the patio and you wince. It’s familiar but not the timbre you expected. Maybe it’s a coincidence.

“There you are,” Frigga stands and you turn to look over your shoulder at the burly blond. Oh.

You rise too, not wanting to seem rude. Thor hugs his mother and kisses the top of her head, “I was caught behind an accident,” he explains, “oh,” he faces you, “and who… it is the little maid!” He takes you by the shoulders and you flinch as he bends to kiss your cheek, “you remember me, yes?”

You can only nod as you wriggle out of his grip. You resist the urge to wipe your cheek.

“Maid! Do not call her that,” Frigga chides as she sits.

You lower yourself back to your seat. Thor drags out the chair next to you and you try not to show your discomfort. He is almost too wide for the seat as his thigh presses to yours.

“I never got a name, you know? Brother hides everything away,” he sniffs, “so forgive me,” he leans as he tries to look you in the face, “a proper introduction is in order; I am Thor, you recall, hm?”

You nod again and eke out your name. He offers his large hand and you hesitate to take it. You won’t be rude though. His grip swallows your hand up, tight and unyielding. When he finally releases you, you let out a slow breath and stare at the table.

“Speaking of,” Frigga remarks, “he is late.”

“Not surprising, he can hardly be bothered to leave his cave,” Thor scoffs, “what a nice colour.”

He touches the button on your dress and you squeeze your legs together, trying to sidle away without being obvious.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Oh, we had a wonderful day shopping,” Frigga supplies, “she’s so sweet.”

“Ah, yes, I’m certain father will be happy to hear you had a spree,” Thor chortles.

“What he doesn’t know…” Frigga giggles.

The server returns and sets down the stemmed glass of dark wine and your juice. Thor orders rye as you lean forward to sip, the tangy flavour tautens your cheeks. You feel your chair shift and sit back, only to meet the curl of his fingers on the back rest. He doesn’t draw away, his leg splaying wider to touch yours again.

“So we are waiting on him?” Thor challenges and slaps his stomach with his other hand, “I’m starving.”

“We’ll give him another ten,” Frigga girds, “perhaps he is also stuck in traffic.”

“Not to worry,” Thor booms, “we can have fun without him, eh. Probably more.”

“Oh, don’t,” Frigga reproaches, “this is supposed to be a nice family meal, you will not start with him again.”

“It wasn’t me. He’s the one who stormed out–”

“Enough,” she interjects, “we are moving past it.”

“I’ve moved on,” Thor insists, “mother, really, I am not the one who keeps picking fights.”

“Mmm,” Frigga purses her lips, “nor do you discourage them.”

“Me?” Thor feigns innocence, his fingertips brushing the back of your collar, “I only said hello and he went out of his mind.”

“Um,” you sit forward, knocking the table slightly, “er, I… is there a bathroom?”

“Oh, yes, darling,” Frigga turns to you as if only then recalling your presence, “just through the front door to the right.”

“Thank you,” you stand, “sorry, uh, excuse me.”

You turn and scurry off, clutching the sides of the dress to keep it from riding up. Once you get inside, you roll your shoulders, trying to shake off the sensation of his touch. You reach back to tug at your collar.

It’s peculiar to think, but you hope Mr. Laufeyson gets there soon.

[gtgbabie0]

-Spencer Reid x reader

{Spencer is much too easy to tease}

Short and fluffy!! Hope you enjoy as always💕

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“Were you sent home?” Is the first question you ask Spencer as he walks through the door much earlier than expected. Normally he’d work for hours upon hours, sometimes even days, but today he returned home only an hour after leaving. Not that you were complaining.

He nods, rolling his shoulders as he walks over to where you’re sitting on the sofa, your legs crisscrossed with a colouring book on your lap.

“Yeah, we finished up earlier than expected,” he said, watching as you put the book along with your felt tips on the coffee table. Spencer smiles as you shuffle closer to him on the couch.

You push back the hair that frames his face, tucking it behind his ear before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. He turns to you, wanting a proper kiss but you’re quick to stop him, hands against his shoulders with a teasing smile.

You watch as his eyebrows furrow slightly, “So, good day then?” You wonder, enjoying the slightest confusion that paints his face.

“Yeah, good day,” he says, as he leans into you again, but you pull away dodging his advances, keeping him at arm's length.

He looks almost offended as you continue with your silly antics. “Ooo- are those new frames?” You ask, taking his glasses off and admiring them. He shakes his head as he takes them from your hands before placing them next to your pencil case on the table.

You watch as he bites his bottom lip, trying to figure out why the hell you’re evading him. “What? no- you know they’re not new sweetheart.” He says almost cautiously, leaning back into you and just before his lips meet yours you turn your head, and he kisses your cheek before pulling back with a worried look that contorts his face, and you start to feel a little guilty.

He's about to go on a panicked tangent asking if he's done anything wrong, but then he sees it in your eyes, as you bite back the giggle that bubbles in the back of your throat, “Oh, you’re doing it on purpose aren’t you?” He asks, watching as you bite your lip.

His eyebrows pull together with amusement as he watches you purse your lips trying so hard to stop the uncontrollable smile. "Doing what on purpose?" you ask, and he chuckles although it comes out more like a scoff.

His hand cups your jaw, turning your head to face him as he finally presses a sloppy kiss to your lips causing you to whine in disgust. You try to push away but he doesn’t let you, instead, he chuckles at the way your face scrunches up.

“Not happening Spencer,” you tell him trying to be as stern as possible, but to no avail, you can’t help but laugh when he pushes you to lay down against the couch as he sits between your legs.

He frowns at the use of his name. It’s odd hearing his first name leave your lips, it was always ‘Spence’ or some variation of a nickname, and he decides at that moment that he hates it. He smirks as his cold hands slip underneath the shirt you’re wearing, splaying across your stomach and he chuckles as you gasp trying to push him away.

You try a good five times to stop his cold wandering hands from traversing across your warm body until you finally connect the dots, he’s not paying you any mind as you call him by his first name.

“Oh- you’re so annoying” you groan trying to wiggle out from underneath him, but it’s useless, as he lays his body weight on top of you, his head resting in the crook of your neck.

You give in deciding it was pointless to fight Spencer when he gets like this. “Mhm, and you love it, don’t you?” He smirks against your skin, dropping a kiss to your shoulder then another to your jaw, until he’s peppering your face with warm kisses.

“Yes I do, I love you so much” you giggle, his lips against yours as he gives you little pecks that soon turn into a warm kiss, your hands playing with his hair.

“I love you too” he whispers, and you let him lay on top of you, a mess of limbs on the sofa as he smothers you with kisses, and you don’t think you’ll ever grow tired of this side of Spencer.

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[allmyocsarebritish]

Dressed to kill

Pairing: Angel Dust X Reader

Warnings(?): Angel does reader's makeup, and unintentionally pokes them in the eye, I have no idea how to do makeup, this came to me when I found pink eyeshadow

Also yes, that's my eye lololol

"Please, toots. I'm literally beggin ya!" Angel complained once more, dramatically draping himself over the bed beside where you sat.

"I promise ya'll love it if ya just-"

You cut him off with an exaggerated sigh and roll of your eyes, though the amused smile on your lips evidenced your joking tone.

"Alright fine, I suppose it won't hurt."

"Yes! Don't worry babe, I'll make ya look stunnin'!" He practically leaped off the bed at your response, though his movements were unreasonably agile and smooth as usual.

You exhaled a breathy laugh at Angel's excitement, drawing your knees up to your chest whilst watching him search his dresser. Rummaging through the drawers, he pulled out (ha) various small wash bags. Each was a slightly different shade of pink, and all embroidered with his name in extravagant lettering. Satisfied with his collection of supplies, he retreated back to the bed, dumping them all on top of the duvet.

"Ya ready?" Angel grinned, lower set of hands resting on his hips.

"Go ahead." You smiled,resting back against the plush headboard. Angel hovered over you, a knee on either side of your legs. Your face flushed at the sudden proximity, which he immediately picked up on.

"What's wrong baby? A bit too close?~" Angel's words were genuine, though he spoke with a massively flirty tone which drew even more heat to your cheeks.

"N-not at all." Despite the fact you *tried* to match his demeanor, you stuttered over your words and just appeared a flustered mess. Angel chuckled and leant back slightly, allowing you space to breathe as he dug through his eyeshadows.

"I'd start by givin' ya some blush but I really don't think ya need it!" He teased before retrieving a small, silver palette.

"Wait, Ange, hold on, aren't you supposed to start with concealer?" You wondered aloud, mildly confused.

"I suppose ya could, but ya really don't need it, babe" he responded, frowning ever so slightly. "Perfect just the way ya are."

You smiled and thanked him for his sweet compliment, to which he leant down and pecked your nose. Still cupping your cheeks with one set of hands, he opened the palette with another, dusting the pigment onto a brush.

"Close ya eyes for me?" He requested, to which you obliged. The brush was soft against your skin, and Angel's strokes were gentle yet deliberate. You could feel his warm breath fan across your cheeks as he exhaled, deep in concentration. You smiled at the thought of his focused face, wishing that you could open your eyes and see him. It was at that moment that you realised you had no idea what you were going to look like. Of course you trusted Angel almost entirely, but even still you wouldn't put it past him to make you look ridiculous.

"What colour are you doing?" You asked to which he laughed mischievously.

"Wait and see." His response raised your suspicions even further, though you couldn't help but smile at Angel's antics. Your wait wasn't long, however, as a few moments later he leant back, making you immediately miss the contact and warmth brought by your proximity to the spider.

"Open!" Angel's excitement was barely concealed in his tone, and a mirror was thrust into your hand as soon as your eyes adjusted to the bright light of the room after being closed for so long. Your concerns were proven unnecessary by the clean and glittery pink and black eyeshadow adorning your eyelid, perfectly complimenting the colour of your iris.

"Okay, you were right, I do love it." You admitted defeat, wondering why you were skeptical.

"Ya seem surprised. Ain't got no faith in me?" Angel dramatically rested a hand on his chest in mock offence, to which you playfully rolled your eyes.

"No, never." You deadpanned. He scoffed before reaching for an eyeliner pencil.

"Look up." Angel advised, gently pressing down on your cheek to expose your waterline.

Unfortunately the pencil slipped.

"Ow!" You winced, jerking away and squinting your eye closed.

"Fuck, sorry." Angel grimaced as you rubbed it to relieve the stinging from being poked. "Would ya like ta do the other one yourself?" He offered, to which you nodded, trying to surpress a laugh. Balancing the mirror on your knee, you put on the eyeliner yourself, making a point of the lack of casualty.

"I said I'm sorry, what more do ya want from me?"

You shook your head and put down the eyeliner and Angel took his place back on top of you. You rested your hands on his hips for balance.

"So, what's next, love?" You asked, watching as he considered.

"False eyelashes or mascara?"

"Which is less likely to make me lose my eyes?" You teased, yet more reference to the fact he poked you. Angel scoffed and rolled his eyes, reaching for an eyelash curler.

"Uh, no, no, no. There is no way in hell I'm letting you near my eyes with that!"

"Fine, fine!!" He held up all four hands in surrender and dropping it on a cushion.

The next challenge presented itself in the form of Angel trying to put the mascara on you.

"Hold still!"

"No!"

"Toots I swear I won't poke ya in the eye again." He promised, and, though you had your doubts, you sat obediently, allowing him to coat your lashes.

"See! What'd I tell ya?!" He leant back again, proud smile on his lips as he admired his work.

"Ya look stunning, babe." He told you, closing the distance between the two of you. "Just one final touch and then we're done!"

Unscrewing the lid of a lip gloss tube, he made as though he were going to put it on you, before turning at the last second and putting it on himself, looking away. You raised an eyebrow and shook your head, smirk brightening your features.

"Oh ya wanted some?" Angel feigned innocence, dramatically looking into the plastic tube. "That's a shame, there's none left! Guess ya'd better come here then!"

You rolled your eyes and grabbed Angel's small lapels, pulling him into you and kissing him, feeling the product transfer.

"Gee, thanks babe!" You replied, continuing to act like there wasn't multiple full tubes on the bed surrounding you both.

"Ya look amazing, Y/N."

"Thanks Angie, you're so good at makeup. Well, apart from eyeliner." He rolled his eyes at you before leaning in again.

"I told ya! I'm sorry"

"I might have to ask Charlie to schedule a lesson on how not to poke someone in the eye." You teased, dragging out the joke.

"Of course ya will." He rolled his eyes again.

"I do forgive you though. And thank you, for doing it for me" You wrapped your arms around him and drew him in for a tight hug.

"Any time."

[kiwi-channn]

Just a drawing

(Part 1)

Older Simon Riley x fem reader(artist)

∆ Artist reader sees Ghost while he is patrolling her city and she wanna draw Ghost but he refuses ∆

Part 2 - part 3 - part4

...................................................................

Ghost sighs tiredly..  how did he get involved with that troublesome girl again?!...

He was just patrolling the area with soap one day like how he was supposed to do... And he wanted to take a quick rest.. so he stopped by a street light and leaned his back against it, smoking and just chatting a bit with soap...

It was in the afternoon..  the sun was still setting beautifully... And some cool breeze started roaming around... And as he just stood there... He felt someone else around... 

He looked beside him... About a small distance away... There was a girl ... She was setting up her art tools... Preparing her brushes and colours... She looks like a college student...

Then she looks firmly at Ghost... Analysing him.. and starts drawing using her pencil

.. and she takes glances at him as she draws...

It was so obvious what she was drawing exactly... Making soap and Ghost confused a lot by this weird girl...

Soap Burst out laughing.. and ghost just stood regretting his life choices...

"Hey!..  you kid.. what the hell are you doing?" Ghost calls to her, trying to control his anger... But he still looks so annoyed...

She raises her gaze from the canvas and looks at him... Looking so innocent like she is doing nothing...

"Drawing, sir" says with a small smile... Then she looks back at her paper...

Ghost frowns and huffs tiredly..

"I freaking know... And what are you drawing exactly?"...

She smiles a big smile...

"You sir.."

Soap and ghost just look at her silently for a moment..  then they glanced at each other..  then soap Burst out laughing for the second time...

"And who the hell allowed you to draw me?!... Little punk" he tells her... With an inpatient pissed tone...

"I don't need an allowance , you are beautiful sir" she says bluntly... Looking so unmoved by how pissed and intimidating he looks.. she is really an oblivious girl...

soap starts laughing loudly... making Ghost more frustrated... and he steps closer to her... his huge figure roaming over her small body... As he glares down at her... He wanna kill her right now...

"Who do you think you are messing with, little girl?" Says so calmly and coldly...

she stares up at him.. looking so oblivious

"a soldier.. and i'm not messing with you si-...."

he cuts her words and says firmly "i am a lieutenant in the special forces.."

her mouth goes to the shape of "o"... as she looks so impressed rather than intimidated ... Her eyes sparkling with little stars...

"wow... that is another reason to draw you sir.." says excitedly...

Ghost holds back his anger again... As he sighs tiredly..... clenching his jaw as he glares at the girl in front of him...

"gather your tools and leave.." says firmly in a cold voice...

"but-.."

"right now!" he snarls coldly as he glares deadly at her now...

she groans sadly as she looks like a disappointed puppy.. gathering her tools to leave... Mumbling something he can't hear...

and Ghost just turns to his previous spot, not looking at that girl at all... as soap teases him about it all day...

[imajinxnation]

my request is a fluffy John wick x reader tickle fight 👉🏽👈🏽\ _( #* u *#)\_

Who Knew??

John Wick x FEM!Reader

SUMMARY // You were just trying to be sweet.. but found something even better..

TW // Fluff, Suggestive, Cussing..

Omgggg this is so fukkin cute!!

ALL GIFS FROM PINTEREST

John had had a long day, and you knew the moment he got home that he wasn't in a particularily good mood, so you did what any other loving girlfriend would do; you decided to pamper him. Now, to clarify, the moment you suggested to John a day of relaxation for himself, he looked at you as if you were the most insane individual in the world.

To which you only responded with a roll of your eyes and a very annoyed glare back. He deserved a day off and to relax, whether he thought so or not, you would give him his relaxation anyways. After the life he had lead before you two got together, he deserved every bit of peace he could get, and if that meant oiling up your hands and rubbing his back for 30 minutes.. well, let's just say, you weren't complaining..

And this leads us to where you are now, your slick, oily hands rubbing his scarred and tattooed back as he lay on the couch, towels underneath him so the oil didn't stain the couch. Usually, John is a fairly quiet man, in both pain and pleasure, but this is what got a rise out of him.. Your hands kneading into his tense shoulders and back, rubbing out the painful knots in his muscles with your thumbs got him groaning and moaning like you had never heard before, which was making your panties wetter than the ocean..

At one point, you had accidentally grazed his side and he twitched away, tensing at the tickling sensation of your finger tips on his sensitive flesh. You stopped immediately, thinking something was wrong.

"Are you alright, Honey? Did that hurt?" You ask, concerned.

John sucks in a shakey breath at your question, wondering whether he should tell you the truth or not.

"..No.." he says simply, deciding to just leave it at that, not wanting to give you another advantage to him.

You raise a brow in suspicion and experimentally drag your oily fingers along his side, make him flinch away, a small, huffy laugh coming out through his nose. It clicks in your head at that moment; the infamous, deadly, pencil-stabbing, Baba Yaga.. is fucking ticklish.

You're glad that John can't see your face, because then he would be able to see the face of Satan smirking down at him, ready to attack him with your slick fingers.

John's eyebrows furrow as he realizes how long you've stopped, the silence making him uneasy. And he was right to be uneasy, because not two seconds later, your fingers were tickling and digging into his sides and ribs. For the first time in John's entire life, he yelps and laughs uncontrollably as you poke and prod at his flesh, teasingly, and mischieviously.

"Oh! (Y/n)- STOP! OH MY GO-D FUCKING STOP!" He exclaims between laughs, unable to remove you from him due to how weak he felt at the moment, and how hard he was laughing.

"Nuh-uh! Make me!" You giggle, tickling him harder, making him laugh even harder.

Eventually, he pulled himself from your grip, falling off the couch and onto the floor on his back, the oil covering his skin sticking to the floor. John calms down quickly, sitting up and glaring at you, a gleam of fire and mischief in his chocolate coloured eyes. Your eyes widen as you realize what he's about to do and you hop over the back of the towel covered couch, trying to run away from his incoming retaliation.

Obviously, you're no match for John Wick, because he catches you in no time, tackling you to the floor in the middle of your hallway, pulling up your shirt to reveal your own stomach and ribs. He digs his fingers into your soft flesh, tickling and squeezing your sides, stomach and ribs. You scream and squeal, trying to push him off with weak, jelly-like arms, squirming and laughing underneath him, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you laugh your head off.

"I-I'M SORRY! I SURRENDER, JOHN, I SURREN-DER!" You cry out, barely intelligable due to your laboured breaths and giggles, tears streaming down your face in jovial laughter.

John lets out the most genuine laugh you've ever heard from him and finally stops, but leans down to give you one last shock. He shakes his head and blows a raspberry on your stomach, making you squeal one last time. He climbs off of your body and sits on the hallway floor in front of you, letting you catch your breath for a few minutes before you sit up aswell.

"Wow.. why didn't you tell me?" You ask, out of breath and smiling hysterically.

"This.. this is exactly why I never said anything, you mischievious little she-devil!" John grins back teasingly.

"Oh God.. now I gotta mop the floor, we covered it in oil!" You laugh, majority of the oil on your hands now on the floor.

"Yeah.. You'll be doing that, seeing as this is your fault!" John laughs back.

You pout playfully, but smile immediately after.

"Alright.. understandable. By the way.. your laugh is adorable," you grin and get on your knees, leaning foreward to kiss him gently.

John chuckles breathily, kissing you back softly in pure bliss.

Who knew the Baba Yaga could have such a sweet laugh..

[miguellover07]

Ughhh, may I request something,well umm do u remember those wattpad nerd story (that had to deal with nerds girl who no one really had an interest,then boom someone is interested in them and they just called them ugly ass,but the nerds always weared baggy clothes and big glasses) that was popular there, well I wanted to ask

Nerd!reader(female) x rich!popular!Miguel

Highschool/college au

Who is an new kid(miguel) come to school already become popular and all the talk of the town ,he was just incredibly annoyed by all these girl jumping onto to him like an bug going toward the sun,and the fucking guys that say there he best friends,he would just shut them up,and make fun of them,he was fed up with people telling him what happening with today's drama or shit,he just wanted to had fun,I mean just because he was rich doesn't he was lazy,that's when he wanted to find an place that quiet and clam he went to the library, that where he saw reader,(who he never saw her before,he just thought she was an new kid) nerd!reader who was wearing headphones underneath her hoodie (listening to music of course) while studying,she seem peaceful,but knowing him he would just sat down next in the same table as her,

AND THE REST IS UP TO u (Idk what to do)

Always have an wonderful day😘😘😇

Study buddy

Around 1100 words, fluff, rich!Miguel x nerdfem!reader

After finally getting rid of these annoying classmates of his, he found his way to the school library.

He was already so frustrated and grumpy by them. They don't understand that he simply doesn´t care who fucked with whom or who holds the best parties.

This year he wants to improve his grades to the impossible, so only A´s are allowed. This means no parties, no drama or any kind of burden for him.

The reason is that he wants to be worthy of his parents company.

He wants them to be proud of him and inherit it to him because he deserves it and not due to the fact that he is their eldest son.

That´s why right now he's standing in the math section and looks through the books and after a bit of searching he finds the books he needs for practacing.

Luckily the math section is mostly empty except for a group who are probably working on a project together and a girl.

Before searching for a seat, he decides to regard the girl for some minutes.

Her oversized hoodie has a big image on the back which tells him that she is a fan of the same comic as him.

He sees her removing the glasses and rubbing her already bloodshot eyes and she seems worried and frustrated.

So, he decides to sit next to her, taking out his school supplies such as notebook, calculator and some pencils.

Perhaps it would be a good idea to befriend her so that he can have a study buddy and they could help each other out.

As he sits down next to her, he notices the small spider-man earrings and he can't help but feel excited because he also likes him.

Even her earphones are designed in the colour red and blue which implies that they must be customised.

She rests her head in her hands and Miguel guesses that she is either at the brick of a breakdown or just taking a break.

"Need help?" he causally asks her as he takes her notes to see with what she is fighting.

The moment he starts speaking is exactly where her song switches to another one, so in this little second she hears him right next to her.

Startled, she jumps in her chair, putting a hand on her heart "Gosh, I didn´t see you coming..."

And Miguel can´t help but find her slow reaction adorable.

She slowly takes her headphones off and sighs while blushing intensly. The new kid talked to her? And even offers his help?

No way, this must be a prank, most people don´t even recognize her which she is extremly thankful for since she has seen how the popular kids bully the nerds or basically everbody who isn´t filthy rich or at least good looking.

But she needs help or else she will fail her math class and studying alone won't get her far.

"I don't even know what I´m doing..." she would whisper embarrassed.

Humming, he starts opening one of her books and takes a minute to read himself in this topic.

All the while she puts her glasses back on to get a better sight of him.

It´s like she is looking at a model, his skin looks so smooth and his hair is so fluffy and voluminous.

His sharp features makes him so much hotter but to stop her emberassing blushing, she tries looking at the books before her.

After understanding the topic, he leans back and starts explaining it to her, without making her feel stupid which only makes her more attracted to him.

He even put his arm behind her to lean a bit closer towards her and his other hand keeps pointing to the book while sometimes scribbling on her notes.

Nodding eagerly as she finally understood what her problem was and how it workes.

She can´t help and turn to him as she gives him a tired but happy smile since this session took over 2 hours of him just explaining and calculating together.

"Thank you so much for your help, I don´t know what I would do without you," expressing her graditute while packing her stuff "Could I perhaps repay you?"

Miguel leans back and packs his schoolbag as well "How about before we start our next time we have lunch together? I´m still new here and don´t know my way around and I don´t know if you´ve already had the chance to explore our school"

Confusion is written over her face "What do you mean?" she chuckles akwardly.

"Aren´t you new here as well?" he raises a brow and is seemingly confused now.

Chuckling she explains "No no no, I´ve been in this town since birth so I actaully do know my way around, I could be your guide if you like" she puts her hand before her giggling mouth to hide it and Miguel again can´t help but find her adorable with the whole behaviour and looks.

Everything she does just suits her.

"Oh sorry, I don´t know why I automatically assumed you were new here, but yeah I´d like to have a sweet one like you as my tour guide... ugh when I think about that one of the other could be my guide, I already get a headache"

Again she can´t help but giggle at his confession and as they two stand up, she can´t help but notice the height difference which makes her a little bit nervous again. Miguel notices it immediately which makes him smirk.

"I´m Y/N, by the way" she awkwardly introduces herself as she remebered to do it at the beginning which makes it a bit awkward again but he only leans down to hear her better and perhaps to tease her a little.

"Y/N, it´s a pretty name and it suits you perfectly... and I´m Miguel o´hara" he says with a little smirk.

🕸🕷

Hope you like this one, I somehow struggled to make him seem 'more rich' and her more 'nerdy' with the set up but I still hope you'll enjoy this one, my friend <3

[ascendanttarot]

PAC: Reassuring Messages From The Universe

Hi everyone! I have a feeling some people may need a pick-me-up at the moment hence why I made this reading. I think this may be my longest reading so far! There will be signs listed before to ensure the message is for you. If you resonate with one or more signs, that is meant to be your reading. At the end, each pile will also have a quote and channelled song to listen to that resonates with your reading. The specific lyrics that I heard are listed below the title. :)

Please remember your fate is not set in stone so your answers may change depending on the actions you take and will take if you please. Tarot is not a substitute for professional advice. The images I’ve used are not mine.

From left to right, Pile 1, 2 & 3.

Pile 1

Signs:

You may be a Lana Del Rey fan, or at least have one of her songs be your one of your favourite songs

You may be really creative. Specifically, I see most of you here are artists because I just saw an image of someone’s hand covered in paint like a make-shift palette to find the right colour, or someone wiping away excess paint on their skin

You may be left-handed. To be honest, this kind of relates back to the art thing because I just heard someone swearing because their pencil sketches were smudged by their hand again lol

You are a ride-or-die friend. I’m not picking up any signs that the people who picked this pile could be ‘low maintenance friends’ because all I could feel was a loyal and passionate heart, particularly towards their friends

Okay this is an odd message but some of you here are DEHYDRATED, like you’re not even thirsty anymore this is beyond that. Please drink some water if you haven’t at all today

Back to music here, but do some of you spend hours making playlists? I just saw someone using a lot of their free time to curate playlists. I even saw some of you here like making playlists for specific people

Another weird message here but I just smelled crayons, so I’m interpreting this in a few different ways: you may be connected to your inner child, or you may work with children/have plans to work with children, or you would like to be a parent/are a parent

Your Cards: The Emperor, Knight of Cups rx, Page of Wands rx, Justice rx, The Star, 10 of Pentacles

Your Reading:

Okay, the first thing I heard while looking at these cards were the words, “Lost time” and I think that sums up half of your reading quite well.

The cards show that at the beginning of this particular situation, you felt like you were fully in your power. A very Mars-dominant energy to be in, or an Aries energy to be in wherein you felt like you could take on anything. It’s like this was a time when your confidence was at an all-time high about yourself, but also about something. For most of you, this ‘something’ was a project. For some of you, this could be a relationship. The point is, this was something in your life you felt was given to you like you’ve waited for this and finally you’ve got it, but that hope didn’t last.

As we moved on, I felt heavy feelings of frustration. Like you were ready to spring into action but something or someone else was telling you to wait, like they were stringing you along. At the back of your mind, you knew you were being taken advantage of, but you decided to stick with it anyway. I just heard, “It’s worth it.” So maybe this was something you wanted for so long that you felt like you had to stick to it because you couldn’t see how another opportunity could be better than this. I’m really sensing this was a career move for some of you here. Maybe some of you were promised a promotion but you didn’t get it. Maybe some of you were given false hope by a higher-up that this project idea of yours would be taken seriously, but you just had to wait for the right time.

And these people kept giving you excuses. If this were a relationship, I could sense that maybe this was someone who you thought would be ready to fully commit to a relationship, but they never ended up being mature enough to make that decision. It could even be a platonic relationship, and this person wanted you and them to be more casual friends, but you were ready to be a ride-or-die as I’ve stated in the signs above. The overwhelming feeling here is that you got the shorter end of the stick.

But, of course, this doesn’t last. The universe is trying to tell you that if you were broken down before and were able to build yourself back up again, then you can do that now. For most of you, I feel you’ve already left this situation and are worried that this was a mistake, and that you shouldn’t have left in the first place, but the cards are saying otherwise.

Your hope was burned out because of what you’ve gone through. You’ve sacrificed your hope and your sense of self, but the next chapter of your life won’t ask you to do that anymore. If anything, this new chapter will nurture all of those traits you have always felt were intrinsically part of who you are.

If this were a relationship, you’d probably take a break from dating for a while, but your friendships will be a cornucopia of love and support, with new and old friends alike. If this was a job or project, a new opportunity will not only cause success, but stable success. The universe is giving you the new direction you need. “One door closes so the other one opens.”

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 1!

Your Channelled Song: Let The Light In by Lana Del Rey and Father John Misty

“Put the Beatles on, light the candles, go back to bed”

“Put the TV on and the flowers in a vase, lie your head”

“Ooh, let the light in

At your back door yelling 'cause I wanna come in

Ooh, turn your light on

Look at us, you and me back at it again”

Pile 2

Signs:

You may be a blunt and direct person, and you may have even gotten in trouble for this in the past. Really, I could sense you’re just a BS detector. I also saw someone rolling their eyes and saying “C’mon, talk to me straight I’ve got things to do!” haha!

I just heard ‘homebody’, so I feel like plenty of introverts have picked this pile!

You may be the sarcastic, unintentionally funny friend. If you know you know. But to specify I saw someone in a group setting saying something like “I hate half of the people in this room/I didn’t want to go—I got dragged here by my friends, please don’t talk to me” and someone laughing because they didn’t think you were serious (You were)

You’ve got a dry/witty sense of humour when you do try to make a joke intentionally, but either no one gets it, or it may be a touch too dark for their taste (Nothing problematic though!)

I got tempted to swear so many times writing out these signs so you may swear a lot. Like sometimes, if you’re in a professional environment you may find it difficult to filter out your words because of how automatic it is for you

I also feel like you’re really articulate. The first word I actually thought to describe your humour was ‘sardonic’ and I wasn’t even sure what that word meant so I can guarantee you that did not come from my mind (Yes, I had to Google the meaning)

For astrological signs, you may have Scorpio and/or Virgo in your chart. Possibly a stellium. With how active your mind is coming through in this reading and how much communication is highlighted in this section, I would not be surprised if your dominant planet is Mercury, or if you have many aspects involving that planet in your chart

Your Cards: The Hermit rx, 2 of Cups, 5 of Swords, 2 of Swords rx, King of Wands

Your Reading: Pile 2, please don’t get mad, but when I opened up to your energy, I was expecting a different message than what I delivered right now. I was ready to get serious, to go into deep waters and dive face first. But when I saw the cards… I may or may not have audibly giggled.

Not in a bad way! Hear me out before you scroll, I promise I’m saying this with the same fondness as a best friend, but pile 2, I know you’ve been in hermit mode for a while and are very comfortable staying there, but the universe isn’t really going to let that slide. For most of you, I could see you not wanting to go out but being pushed to do so by a friend. For some of you, you’ve even been convinced by some of your close friends to go on blind dates or new places to meet people in general, and you go but you really don’t want to.

The message here is clear: You’re going to meet someone new. For most of you, this will be a romantic partnership. For my aromantic folks or my readers who are simply not at all interested in romance, this will be a platonic relationship. Whatever this is, I could specifically see one person here coming out of nowhere and earnestly offering you love or friendship with respectful persistence, you wouldn’t even know what to do with them at first. I think a lot of you here have closed yourself off, not to your pre-existing close relationships, but to new people. This person is going to test that wall you’ve built around yourself and despite how much you try to intimidate them, they are not going away. Think of someone with ‘golden retriever’ vibes, which is funny because as I was tapping into your energy I got ‘black cat’ vibes from you. (I just heard, “The Arthur to my Merlin” and “The Gwen to my Morgana” whether platonically or romantically doesn’t matter, but wow, do I have some Merlin fans/old Merlin viewers in this pile)

In all seriousness though, I don’t think you have this boundary up for no reason. I’m seeing a very specific message of someone in the past that you used to trust no longer being in your life because they’ve done you wrong. This could possibly even be a betrayal of trust? Like you told them a secret, but they shared it with one person, and it quickly spread through word-of-mouth. The severing of that relationship was as fast as the betrayal done by the other person.

This made you more guarded towards newer people in your life. But also, I could see this even had a domino effect making you wary of new experiences and environments too because you’re scared you’ll meet a new person that way.  The universe is saying this past relationship has clouded your judgment and will cloud your judgment when you meet this new person. What you don’t realise is that this person could actually be good for you if you take a chance. Some of you may be worried about co-dependency. The universe is actually saying that a relationship like this will actually make you more independent, and this is because this person is emotionally mature enough to actually commit. They’ll give, you’ll take. You’ll give, they’ll take. It feels like two people who genuinely see each other as equals, and therefore respect each other as such. Their commitment and genuine belief in you will make you a more confident person in the future, but more importantly, you’ll be bolder in your choices in life. You’ll grow to have a brave heart that other people will appreciate in you, and that you’ll appreciate in yourself. “Fortune favours the bold.”

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 2!

Your Channelled Song: King and Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men

“We won’t run, and we won’t run, and we won’t run”

“I’ll be here to hold your hand”

“'Cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart”

Pile 3

Signs:

Your sun sign may be an earth sign or an air sign. I also feel like some people who picked this pile may be a Leo rising or have a Leo Midheaven, but more on the Leo rising actually

I feel like some of you here may have curly hair

You may be a part of the LGBTQIA+ community

You prefer winter palettes over lighter and pastel colours for your clothes. I’m not getting a specific style but the colours here are striking. Either an all-black outfit but with the same shade of black making you appear more put together, or someone wearing jewel-toned colours like emerald green or a very striking purple

You may like wearing statement pieces. I saw this image of you in someone else’s point of view, admiring a watch you always wear or commenting on how they know you’ve just been in the room because they smelled your perfume. Picture this, someone walks into an office and just says, “Was pile 3 here—actually, you don’t need to answer that I know they were here.” And the other person who doesn’t know you getting really confused so they clarify by saying, “Oh, I know they were here because they’re the only one in this building that wears (insert fragrance here)”

Some of you here may have a ritual of listening to music in the morning while you’re getting ready to hype yourself up. All genres are coming up right now, (No, seriously. It went from Gangsta’s Paradise to successful by Ariana Grande songs to It's a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock 'N' Roll)) but what unifies these songs together is that it’s there to put you in a good mood in the morning

You may be interested in working for yourself by either starting a new business or working your way to the top. Highly ambitious energy coming from this pile, but in all the best ways possible; it makes your energy infectious. Yes. That word specifically. Just a really great energy to be around

Your Cards: 5 of Wands, 3 of Pentacles, 8 of Swords, High Priestess, The Star (clarified by 3 of Cups)

Your Reading:

Okay, I want to preface this reading by saying that this pile feels similar to pile 1. You may not have had the same circumstances, but the arc is similar, so if you are attracted to pile 1, feel free to read it as a supplementary reading after this.

There’s a very clear energy here that you may have had a falling out with people in your life. This could be a group of co-workers, friends, or even family members. There was chaos surrounding your previous situation and you felt like people were constantly at each other’s throats. If it was not as aggressive as this, it is possible that at the very least you were in an environment you did not feel safe. I think these people showed their true colours, so to speak, and it made you realise how you shouldn’t have trusted certain individuals involved. The thing is though, I can feel you being an outsider in this situation. Like from the start of all of this, you made it clear to everyone you did not want to get involved. I literally just heard, “Get over yourself.” from this pile, so maybe some of you here may even feel that people were blowing up a whole pile of nothing, and/or that they all needed to act more maturely about the situation. I also feel like one person may have taken something personally when they shouldn’t and that could’ve made you particularly frustrated because you felt this person missed the point completely.

I could see that you tried providing counsel to try to smooth things out, but no one listened. This was your last straw. You left or will leave this situation and the universe applauds you for doing so. I think a lot of people in this situation had a victim complex. This is not a judgment on them, it’s simply a message that they have a lot of unhealed wounds they need to work on. You didn’t stand by this though, and this led to you making your boundaries clear and cutting yourself off completely. For some of you, this may be a temporary situation (I heard, “Fix this or don’t bother coming back.”) but for most of you, this may be a temporary step away from these people.

The universe saw that you trusted your gut and left and are rewarding you as such. I think you have a logical mind and are not used to making decisions intuitively, but this all happened because you did what felt right, and this show of trust is going to lead to positive effects.

For the people who picked this pile, I’m getting a strong message that your intuition is a muscle, and that’s true for most people but it’s especially true for yourself. I think you’ll be asked to make more quick decisions in the next phase of your life, Some decisions have larger consequences than others, but most will be small and trivial decisions such as, “Which café should I visit today?”. Before you might’ve picked the familiar or logical option, but now you’re allowing more spontaneity in your life, and this may even surprise you a little bit. I just heard one of your friends saying, “But you always go there!” and seeing you shrug before saying, “Well, I’m in the mood to try something new.”

This will reward you with a new sense of self. The 3 of cups traditionally has a more social meaning, like friends who see each other as equals coming together to celebrate, but for you, I could see this as different sides of yourself finally living in harmony with one another. With all of that stress gone, you’ll finally have the chance to recognise how deeply complex and interesting you are, and you’ll do so with an acceptance you may have not known you needed. “To know myself is to love myself.”

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 3!

Your Channelled Song: “New Person, Same Old Mistakes” by Tame Impala

“I can just hear them now

"How could you let us down?"”

“Two sides of me can't agree”

“Feel like a brand new person… I don’t care I’m in love”