#wooden beer mug

[digitalvision05]

Gift Guide: Wooden Beer Mugs for the Beer Lover in Your Life

Forget the cold, impersonal feel of glass or concrete. Wooden beer mugs offer a unique and sensory-rich alternative. But with so many styles and options available, choosing the perfect one can feel daunting. Fear not, fellow gift-giver! This guide will walk you through the world of wooden beer mugs, helping you find the ideal vessel to match your recipient's personality and preferences.

A Touch of Nature: Why Choose Wood?

Wooden mugs go beyond mere function; they're a statement piece. The natural beauty of wood adds a touch of rustic charm to any setting, while the material itself insulates your beer, keeping it cooler for longer. Plus, the unique grain and texture of each mug make it a one-of-a-kind treasure.

Navigating the Forest: Different Woods, Different Feels

The type of wood used plays a big role in the mug's aesthetics and performance. Popular choices include:

Oak:- Known for its durability and rich, golden tones, oak mugs offer a classic, timeless look.

Walnut:- This darker wood boasts a beautiful grain and imparts a subtle nutty aroma to your beer.

Cedar:- Lighter in color and weight, cedar mugs offer a natural, earthy feel and a hint of cedar fragrance.

Finding the Perfect Fit: Styles and Features

There's a wooden mug to suit every taste. Consider your recipient's preferences:

The Traditionalist:- Opt for a hefty tankard with a handle for a truly medieval vibe.

The Craft Beer Aficionado:- Choose a mug with a narrower mouth to concentrate the aromas of complex brews.

The Casual Enjoyer:- Select a lighter-weight mug for everyday use.

Personalization Power:- Making it Special

Engraving the recipient's name, initials, or a special message on their mug adds a sentimental touch that elevates it to a cherished heirloom.

Still Stumped? We Can Help!

Feeling overwhelmed by the choices? Don't fret! At The Brand Barrel, we specialize in helping you find the perfect wooden beer mug for any occasion. With our curation of high-quality, handcrafted mugs, you're sure to discover the ideal gift that will have them raising a toast in appreciation.

So, ditch the ordinary and embrace the rustic charm of wood. With the right mug, you're gifting more than just a vessel; you're gifting an experience, a conversation starter, and a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. What are you waiting for? Start crafting the perfect beer-soaked memory today!

P.S. What type of beer would your recipient pair with their new wooden mug? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

[digitalvision]

Gift Guide: Wooden Beer Mugs for the Beer Lover in Your Life

Forget the cold, impersonal feel of glass or concrete. Wooden beer mugs offer a unique and sensory-rich alternative. But with so many styles and options available, choosing the perfect one can feel daunting. Fear not, fellow gift-giver! This guide will walk you through the world of wooden beer mugs, helping you find the ideal vessel to match your recipient's personality and preferences.

A Touch of Nature: Why Choose Wood?

Wooden mugs go beyond mere function; they're a statement piece. The natural beauty of wood adds a touch of rustic charm to any setting, while the material itself insulates your beer, keeping it cooler for longer. Plus, the unique grain and texture of each mug make it a one-of-a-kind treasure.

Navigating the Forest: Different Woods, Different Feels

The type of wood used plays a big role in the mug's aesthetics and performance. Popular choices include:

Oak:- Known for its durability and rich, golden tones, oak mugs offer a classic, timeless look.

Walnut:- This darker wood boasts a beautiful grain and imparts a subtle nutty aroma to your beer.

Cedar:- Lighter in color and weight, cedar mugs offer a natural, earthy feel and a hint of cedar fragrance.

Finding the Perfect Fit: Styles and Features

There's a wooden mug to suit every taste. Consider your recipient's preferences:

The Traditionalist:- Opt for a hefty tankard with a handle for a truly medieval vibe.

The Craft Beer Aficionado:- Choose a mug with a narrower mouth to concentrate the aromas of complex brews.

The Casual Enjoyer:- Select a lighter-weight mug for everyday use.

Personalization Power:- Making it Special

Engraving the recipient's name, initials, or a special message on their mug adds a sentimental touch that elevates it to a cherished heirloom.

Still Stumped? We Can Help!

Feeling overwhelmed by the choices? Don't fret! At The Brand Barrel, we specialize in helping you find the perfect wooden beer mug for any occasion. With our curation of high-quality, handcrafted mugs, you're sure to discover the ideal gift that will have them raising a toast in appreciation.

So, ditch the ordinary and embrace the rustic charm of wood. With the right mug, you're gifting more than just a vessel; you're gifting an experience, a conversation starter, and a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. What are you waiting for? Start crafting the perfect beer-soaked memory today!

P.S. What type of beer would your recipient pair with their new wooden mug? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

[yourcoffeeguru]

3D Wooden Puzzle Beer Mug Stein Boxed with Instructions || SWtradepost

[subbalakshmisastry]

Northeastern Lifestyle Section in National Museum , NewDelhi - Masks an...

[writer-komaru]

Wild One’s Rodeo 𓃗

Warning✧ [explicit] Grinding, no protection, dubcon.

Characters✧ Boothill

Words✧ 1464

Summary✧ As a waitress for one of the most popular bars in penacony, you’ve met your fair share of strange characters. A smug man adorned in exotic furs who tried making a bet with the bartender, a sparkling knight who gave every lady in the bar a rose without even staying for a drink, even an enigmatic woman carrying a purple katana with eyes like a serpent who sat alone at the end of the bar. But never have you met a man like Boothill. A man of steel and whiskey, tying you in hemp like you’re nothing but a naughty cow he’s gonna tame. Give him a rodeo he won’t forget.

“Sorry for the wait, ma’am. Here’s your sundae,” you place a decked out desert in front of an impatient woman who snarls a crude thanks. You’d like to give her a good smack for making you fetch her four other deserts until she is finally satisfied but you had already been scolded two times already. You couldn’t afford to lose another job. Not in this “thriving” economy that had the lower class slaving away while the rich babbled over dozens of mugs of beer or road cars that sped down the busy streets like a comet streaking through the night sky.

You pushed away the unrealistic thoughts and got back to work. “What would ya like, sir?” “How can I help ya, ma’am?” “Would ya like a refill?” The thoughts buzzed and bounced around in your head like a hive of bees; it was beginning to drive ya mad. That was until they suddenly went dead silent.

You placed another tray of expensive alcohol (stuff you’d never dream of buying) onto the faded wooden counter when the doors of the bar flew open, almost splintering into pieces. A shot blasted out into the sky.

“YEEEEHAWW!! How’s all yall fiendin’ tonight?” He hollered out into the crowded bar catching everyone’s attention, including yours. Even though you’ve never seen this man before in your life, the guests erupted into cheers, some even standing up to greet him or share drinks. At Leary it gave you a few seconds to scope him out. He wore a tight, jet-black leather vest and pants, held up by a brown and heavy gold belt. Yet, that wasn’t the main thing that caught your eye. His vest appeared to be cut right above the nipples. But, strangely enough, he didn’t really have any. Instead, his entire upper body from the neck down to his feet and fingertips was entirely plated with titanium, or some similar shiny metal. Could he be some type of robo cowboy?

“Heyyyy little lady, whatcha doin’ on yer own?~” you gasped as he pushed you up against the counter, humming right against your ear with such a deep country accent you felt your legs tremble. He seemed to notice it too, his smirk stretching into a full on smile. “Oh my sweet darlin’, yer gonna fly away like a mayflower in May if ya keep trembling’ like that. Don’t worry babydoll, I got ya~” he chuckled with that rugged, sultry voice as he playfully stroked your hips, as if he was tinkering with some kind of machine, steadfast on fixing your loose legs. But his tinkering only wet your face ablaze.

Who even WAS this man?! You wanted to push him away and scold him but your hips were pinned so hard to the counter you could feel every inch he had. No, you can’t think such dirty thoughts about a guest, no matter how persuasive they were. And damn, was her persuasive.

“What’s with that look, darlin’? Scared I’ll bite?” Lets out a small laugh, “I might be gentle with it if ya say please, mister…~”

“P-please… mister.” you managed out breathlessly

“Awh, aren’t you a cute little lady~ why not we find out what these metal hands’a mine can do to those barrels yer hauling around, huh doll?~” his hands roamed up your body and gave your breasts a firm squeeze. That little move of his snapped you out of your lustful daze to deliver a fiery slap across his cheek.

He takes it like a champ and lets out a light whistle, “wow baby, you sting like hot iron~”

“Y-you can’t just jump on top of a stranger and have your way…” you cross your arms and turn around, peeking back at him to see his reaction. Any other waitress would have called the Bloodhounds of him. But you weren’t just any woman. You were dying for something actually interesting to your monotonous assembly-line ass job and this cowboy might be your ticket to freedom.

“Awwwhhh come on, doll face~ I ain’t mean no harm. When I saw yer curves dressed in that get up I knew I hadta show ya how to properly ride a bull~” he leans forward, taking your hand in his and kissing it with a flirtatious wink. He begins walking back to the door, your hand still in his, “if ya want some hands on learnin’, follow me, pretty thing.”

You immediately ripped off your stained waitress uniform and ran to his side, “Oh Boothill, I’ve been itching for this~”

“Have ya, now?~” he raised an eyebrow in amusement and pulled you into a nearby alleyway, “Well I know just the way to solve a pesky itch~”

“How will-“ before you could even finish your sentence he lifted both of your legs and swung them over his shoulders, your aching pussy pushed flush against his toned metallic abdomen. The hard surface sent electricity zapping through your wet folds; you were not sure if it was your desire or his robotic body sending out small shocks as if to warn you about the power it can showcase.

“Overwhelmed already?~ never been dicked down by a real man, have ya, darling?” He teases, stoking your flames.

“N-no, I have… m-many times…” you bluffed.

“You sure, babydoll? Cuz this cute little pussy down here’s singin’ a different tune and myyyy is it a sweeten’~” he bites his lip as he rubs his hips side to side, the hard as metal rod in his pants grinding against you so good you felt like cumming already and he wasn’t even inside yet.

“P-please….” You begged between gasps.

“Please what, doll?~” he smirked wickedly.

“P-please… p-ple… pl… ease….” You choked out each word, struggling to put them together.

“Two little words and I’ll stretch ya out so good your kitty’ll meow so loud they’ll call animal control,” he gave your chest another teasing squeeze.

“P-please… boothiiiiiilllll….” You cried out.

“That’s a good girl…~” his eyes narrowed with focus as he pushed aside your drenched panties and stroked your folds up and down.

“So sticky and wet… like a rich lil beehive overflowing with thick honey…” he once again rested his head on your shoulder as he aligned himself to your twitching pussy. Without so much as a warning, he rammed right inside, immediately hitting the deepest reaches of your womb, making you release an embarrassingly loud cry and a hot stream of cum all over his shiny abs. “Wowie…~ someone’s really been dying for a proper fucking, huh?” He gripped your hips tight and grunted as he attempted a deeper thrust, “I’ll milk this pretty hole for all its for.”

“Aaaaggh... nnnagggg… s-stop… n-no deep… we… aaACK!~” you choked out moan after moan, almost like you were a pent up teen again. No matter how much you begged, he only went faster and harder, with enough robotic accuracy and consistency you knew you’d be sore for days. It was like he filled each slap of skin with a silent promise to somehow, some way, get you pregnant.

He let out a particularly loud groan in your ear, “oh baby, if ya squeeze me like that… ohhhh doll…~ I just can’t take much more-a this.~ Ya ready? Ready for a real mess?”

“Y-yeah-ahh! Yeeaaaahhhh-Ahhh!” You cried out.

“Darn baby…. Oh… oh fu- f-fudge…. Hold on baby, I’m almost… oh darling, you’re perfect for me!~” with one last growl you feel a large burst of warm cum burst inside of you, dripping out onto the concrete of the secluded alleyway. But instead of giving himself even a moment’s rest, he bites his lip and shoves himself right back in, humping at you like a dog in heat.

“Shi-sugar baby, I just can’t stop breeding this pretty hole… And these massive tits here don’t make it any easier~” he gropes them a bit more before pinching your nipples with a naughty smile.

“A-aaagh!”

“Ohhh~ did someone like that~” he begins fucking you harder and licks your neck, “I didn’t know I had such a foxy lady under me~”

“P-pleasssseeeee boothill…”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get ya to that edge again…. And again and again and again, oh, you’ll have so much fun with me,” he laughed before delivering a cheeky bite to your neck. Your moans began to soften as your vision darkened, which he caught onto almost as fast as he’s drilling into you.

“I’ve got ya, doll… just let the darkness settle in.” He whispers with a soothing groan as he litters a series of bites along your neck and shoulder, each one fading your vision faster until it is purely black. When the morning comes, you’ll definitely get an ear full from your boss. That is…. If you choose to awake from this beautifully sexy daydream.

Hellooo everyone, I’m so terribly sorry it’s been so long. My life’s gotten a whole lot busier and I haven’t had any inspiration to write in a very very long time. BUT!! Even though this ain’t much compared to my usual stuff, I hope it’s still enjoyable to you all. I love yall so much, looking back at all the kind comments and likes warms my heart more than anything. See yall soon! (I’d be down for a part two if yall like 👀)

[quinnylouhughesx43]

what a shame that he’s leaving

summary: Jack and y/n have been wanting to spice up their life in the bedroom.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: 18+, nsfw, ‘sensory deprivation’, threesome, talks of alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, deceiving, oral (female rec and male rec) fingering (female), there’s probably more but I can’t think

notes: hi bff @mirrorballmcgroarty convinced me to post this monstrosity of a fic. i hate it so much i wish i never created it or spoke it back into existence BUT enjoy anyways

Jack, Luke, and John sat around the sticky table at their favorite dive bar, the smell of greasy burgers and spilled beer lingering in the air. They were deep into their third round of drinks when Jack leaned in closer to John, his eyes glinting with a mischievous twinkle. "Hey, man," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "are you still down for that thing I talked to you about?"

John's eyebrows shot up, he had been serious about that? He took a sip of his beer, the condensation cool against his top lip. What Jack was referring to wasn't about the upcoming Olympic Games. John adverted his eyes over to Luke quickly and back over to Jack. He had to admit, Jack's proposal had been a bit of a shock, but also intriguing. John has always had a bit of a wild streak, and the thought of being part of Jack's and y/n's intimate experiment had left him more than a little curious. "Yeah, sure I'm still game," he murmured over the top of his beer mug, his voice low and casual, trying not to be betrayed by the sudden thrill that shot through him.

"Good," Jack said with a knowing smile, slapping a hand down on the table. "Because she's down for it too…sometime." Jack leaned back in his bar chair, watching John's reaction carefully. "But I've been planning it out, and tonight's the night. She thinks it will just be me coming home, but I've got a little surprise for her. If you’re going to come with me."

John nodded, his heart racing with curiosity. Jack wasn’t someone who typically beat around the bush. "What's the plan?"

But before Jack could elaborate, Luke slammed his hand down on the table, interrupting the hushed conversation. "You two are giving me a headache with all the whispering," he complained, a scowl etched on his face. "I'm gonna head out." He tossed a few crumpled bills onto the sticky wooden surface and stood up, swaying slightly.

“Don’t go home. You won’t get any sleep.” Jack snickered.

Luke narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to. You two cannot whisper no matter what you think. You also are not sly as to what you’re going to do.” Luke pretends to gag before he stalks off from the two older boys and their laughs.

Jack's grin widens as the door swings shut behind Luke. He turns back to John, his eyes full of excitement. "Alright, let's get to it," he says, leaning in closer. "Here's the plan: I'll go in first, set us all up. I’ll have her believing it’s just her and I, but I’ll get her all hot and bothered. I’ll get her riled up more by blindfolding her. She'll be thinking it's just me the whole time, wait until I get her blindfolded then you’ll come in.”

John nods slowly, his pulse quickening. "And what do you want me to do exactly?"

Jack's grin turns devilish. "I'll have her all ready, practically begging for it, and you go straight for the good stuff, man."

John laughs nervously, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. "If she thinks it's you, then it'll be your name she yells out," he points out, raising an eyebrow.

Jack's smile doesn't falter. "Well, that's half the fun, isn't it?" he quips, downing the rest of his beer. "No don’t worry man, I’ve got something worked up for that too.”

John raises an eyebrow. "You've thought of everything, haven't you?"

Jack nods confidently. "Almost everything. Let’s go.”

They left the bar, the neon lights flickering in the early evening darkness. Each man climbed into their respective vehicles, the engines rumbling to life as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards Jack and y/n's apartment. The city streets were alive with the low murmur of traffic and distant laughter, a stark contrast to the heated anticipation that filled the confines of their cars.

Jack's mind raced as he navigated the familiar streets, his thoughts a whirlwind of excitement and apprehension. He'd been planning this night for weeks, ever since the trade had been confirmed. It was the perfect opportunity to push the boundaries of their relationship, to explore the wild side that y/n had hinted at but never fully embraced. The leather seats of his SUV hugged him tightly as he sped through the yellow lights, the wind in his hair feeling like a freedom he hadn't experienced in a long time.

As they pulled up to the apartment complex, Jack's heart hammered in his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before they executed the plan. They parked side by side, the engines ticking as they cooled. They both knew that once they walked through the door, there was no turning back. John's eyes met Jack's, a silent confirmation of their shared excitement.

Jack stepped out of the car and unlocked the front door, calling out to y/n, "Hey babe, I'm home!" He waited for a moment, listening for her response. Her footsteps echoed down the hallway, and he could feel the tension in the air thicken as she grew closer. She appeared in the doorway of the living room, her eyes lighting up when she saw him. She was wearing nothing but a large t-shirt that barely hung to her thighs, her skin glowing with the warmth of the setting sun.

“Hi.” She smiled softly.

Jack took three strides forward lifting her over his shoulder.

“Jack! What are you doing?!” Y/n squealed.

“I want you baby girl, I can’t wait.” His voice low, seductive. His statement true, but he was also needing to move away to allow John inside.

Y/n giggled, throwing her hand over her mouth. “Jack, put me down!” She protested playfully, her laughter bouncing off the walls of the hallway.

Jack smacked her ass gently. “Oh, I will, but not yet.” He said, carrying her into the bedroom. He tossed her onto the bed, his eyes full of hunger. He took a step back, admiring her in the soft light that filtered through the blinds. Her t-shirt had ridden up, revealing her red underwear and the tops of her thighs. She leaned on her elbows, her eyes shimmering with excitement.

Y/n watched as Jack approached the bed, his movements deliberate and predatory. He leaned down, his warm breath tickling her skin as he whispered, "I've got a surprise for you tonight, baby." His lips grazing against the column of her throat ever so slightly, before he playfully nips at her neck. He leans over to his bedside table and pulls a bandanna out of his drawer, holding it up.

“Are you ready to have some fun?” Jack’s voice was gravely. Y/n only nodded, her eyes shining like diamonds in the sun. Jack grinned, over eager to get the bandanna on her.

Jack returned to his original space over her, the soft fabric of the blindfold brushing against her cheek. His eyes searched hers, looking for any signs of doubt. She bit her lip, but nodded. He could tell she was nervous but incredibly turned on. He placed the bandanna over her eyes, tying it tightly behind her head. The room was plunged into darkness for her, and her pulse quickening in anticipation.

Before she could react her panties were stripped from her, her legs spread wide, and she heard Jack’s tale-tale moan. “Oh babygirl, you’re already so fucking wet.” He drug a knuckle over her clit. Her hip bucked. “Fuck, Jack. Please” Jack smirked and retreated from the bed to wave John on down the hall.

John’s heart was racing as he tiptoed into the room, the sound of y/n’s breathless gasps guiding him like a beacon. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before him: her half naked body stretched out on the bed, her chest heaving with every breath, the blindfold hiding the secrets of the evening from her eager eyes.

Jack gave him a nod, gesturing for him to join her on the bed. John’s pulse quickened as he approached, his eyes drinking in every inch of her exposed flesh. He climbed onto the bed, his body quivering with anticipation as he positioned himself between her thighs. The scent of her arousal was thick in the air, and he couldn’t help but lick his lips at the thought of tasting her.

John leaned in, his mouth hovering just above her sensitive flesh. He took a deep breath, savoring the sweetness of her. Then, ever so gently, he kissed the inside of her thigh, his tongue darting out to trace the delicate skin. He could feel her body tense with excitement, her legs instinctively spreading wider for him. He continued his kisses, moving closer and closer to her center. He teasingly hovered right above her core. He could feel the heat radiating from her core, and he knew she was ready.

Finally, John couldn't resist any longer. He parted her folds with his thumbs and flicked his tongue over her clit, eliciting a sharp gasp from y/n. She squirmed beneath him, her hands reaching out to grasp the sheets tightly. He licked her slowly, savoring the taste of her. Her hips began to rock against his face, seeking more pressure, more friction. He chuckled darkly against her, his breath hot against her skin, before he gave in to her silent plea. His tongue swirled around her clit, licking and sucking until she was bucking her hips up to meet him, her moans muffled by the pillow she had buried her face in.

Jack watched from the side of the bed, his own arousal growing as he saw y/n's body respond to John's ministrations. He had never seen her this wild, this uninhibited, and it was a sight to behold. He began to strip off his own clothes, his eyes never leaving her face. The way she thought the way she writhed and moaned, the way she arched her body off the bed, was all for him—made his cock harden. Every whimper she let out, every desperate plea for more made it hard to resist touching himself.

John's tongue grew more insistent, his hunger for her clear in every stroke. He lapped at her like a man starved of water in the desert, his mouth greedily devouring her wetness. He could feel her getting closer, her legs trembling and her breaths turning ragged. He knew she was on the edge, and he was eager to push her over. His thumbs pressed into the soft flesh of her inner thighs, spreading her wider, giving him better access. He took her clit between his teeth, sucking gently before letting go with a pop, making her cry out.

Y/n's body was a symphony of sensations, her mind a whirlwind of pleasure. She had never felt anything like this before. The mystery of not knowing where the next touch was coming from, when it was coming, who was touching her added an extra layer of excitement, making her crave more. She let out a whimper, her body begging for release. "Jack," she elongated his name as she moaned, her voice strained with desire. "Yes, Jack, right there."

Jack grinned triumphantly, he leaned over her grabbing her chin. “Oh sweet girl, it’s not me doing this to you.” He all but growled.

Y/n's breath hitched, her eyes flying open in shock. She reached up to rip the blindfold off, the room coming into focus with a jarring suddenness. Her eyes darting down between her legs frantically, her pupils dilated with lust. They fell on John, meeting his eyes dark with desire as he hovered just above her apex. When their eyes met, John took his fingers and plunged two deep inside her. Eliciting a sharp scream guttural scream from her. Her eyes darted over to Jack. She felt her cheeks flush with a mix of shock and arousal, her body betraying her with a needy moan.

Jack leaned in, his eyes dark with his own hunger, and whispered in her ear, "Surprise, baby." His hand reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin tenderly. "John's here to help me give you the night of your life." He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin, making her shiver.

John took his tongue swirling around her clit once more before pulling away. "You're going to come so many times tonight," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "But not yet." He replaced his mouth with his fingers, working her clit in a steady rhythm that had her writhing and begging for more.

Jack chuckled darkly, his hand sliding down to his own erection. He stroked himself leisurely, watching the scene unfold before him. "You're so beautiful like this," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "So open, so ready."

Sliding his fingers out of her and replacing them with his cock. John pushed in slow, watching her face contort with pleasure and surprise. "Jack's not the only one who knows how to make you feel good," he said, his voice a gravelly growl. He began to thrust, his movements measured and deliberate, drawing out her pleasure. “I can promise you that.”

John's cock filled her completely, reaching deep inside her and stroking against her g-spot with every push. Y/n's eyes rolled back into her head, a silent scream building in her throat. Her body was no longer her own, it was a playground for Jack and John's desires. She felt so full, so complete, and the sensation was overwhelming. Her hips began to match John's rhythm, her body begging for more.

Jack's hand was at the back of her head, guiding her mouth onto his erection. The salty taste of him filled her mouth, and she took him in eagerly, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock. She could feel him pulsing with every beat of his heart, the veins in his shaft throbbing with his excitement. He talked dirty to her, his words a mix of praise and filth that sent shivers down her spine. "That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "You look so fucking good with his cock in you, with my cock in your mouth."

John's thrusts grew more powerful, his hips slamming into hers with a force that had the bed shaking. Y/n could feel him stretching her, filling her completely. Each stroke was a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her own moans vibrated against Jack's shaft, muffled by his skin. She could feel her orgasm building, a tight coil in her stomach that threatened to unravel at any moment.

Jack's grip tightened on the back of her head, his hips moving in a matching rhythm to John's. His words were a constant stream of filth, his voice a dark caress that only served to heighten her arousal. "Look at you, baby," he murmured, his voice low and sinful. "Taking both of us like a champ." He groaned as she took him deeper, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock. "You're such a good girl, letting us both use your tight little body."

John's eyes met Jack's over y/n's trembling form, a silent communication passing between them. They had been friends for years, and this was a moment they had never dared to imagine. The shared excitement was palpable, the tension in the room thick with lust and the thrill of the taboo. John leaned back, his hands on her hips, watching as Jack's cock disappeared into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing with each bob of her head.

Jack's hand slid from her cheek to the back of her head, guiding her movements, setting a pace that had him groaning with pleasure. His eyes were locked onto hers, watching as they watered with the effort of taking him deep. She was so eager, so hungry for it, and it only made him want to fuck her face even more. He could feel John's thrusts into her pussy, the mattress squeaking beneath them, and he knew she was being driven wild by the sensation of being filled in both places at once.

“You think you could take us both at the same time here?” Jack reached behind him grazing his hand up the side of the globe of her ass. A drug out moan shuttered out from her throat and around his cock. Her pussy clamped down around John’s cock both in response. “I take that as a yes?” Jack raised on eyebrow questioning her.

Y/n pulled Jack out of her mouth with a pop. "Yes," she panted, her voice shaky with need. "I want it all."

“Who do you want where sweet girl?” John’s question hung in the air, his eyes burning with lust.

Without missing a beat, y/n responded, "John, I want you in my ass," she said, her voice shaky with excitement. "And Jack, I want you in my pussy." She looked at both of them with glazed eyes. If some one didn’t know better, they’d think she was pure and innocent.

Jack's eyes went wide, but he didn’t hesitate. He grabbed a bottle of lube from his nightstand, handing it to John. "Looks like someone's eager," he said with a smirk, watching as John's eyes darkened with lust.

John took the bottle, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers before sliding them into her ass. Y/n whimpered, her body tightening at the sudden intrusion. But she didn't pull away. Instead, she pushed back against John's hand, urging him to go deeper, faster.

Jack leaned in, his lips crushing hers in a bruising kiss as John's fingers slid in and out of her ass. The feeling of being filled in both her ass and her pussy was unlike anything she had ever experienced, a delicious pressure that had her pussy clenching around Jack's shaft. He groaned into her mouth, his hand tangling in her hair as he began to thrust into her.

John's fingers worked her ass, stretching her, preparing her for his thick cock. He watched her face in the mirror across the room, her expression a mix of pleasure and pain, her mouth open in a silent scream as he replaced his fingers for his dick and stretching her wider, stroking in deeper. He whispered dirty words into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "You're so fucking tight," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I've never felt anything like this."

Jack's hips moved in tandem with John's, their bodies working together in a rhythm that was both mesmerizing and carnally intense. Y/n's moans grew louder, her breaths coming in short gasps as they both pushed into her, filling her completely. She could feel their muscles tensing with every thrust, their sweat-slicked skin slapping against hers, the sound echoing through the room.

Their words a symphony of filth that had her pussy contracting around Jack's cock. "Look how good you're taking us," Jack said, his voice deep and commanding. "You're such a dirty little slut, aren't you?"

John groaned in agreement. "Fuck yes, you are," he said, his voice strained. "You're going to come so hard with both of us inside you."

Her orgasm building faster and faster, a crescendo of pleasure that was almost too much to bear. She clung to Jack, her nails digging into his shoulders as John's cock hit that perfect spot deep within her ass, at times nudging against Jack’s. She was lost in the sensation, her body no longer her own.

Jack's hand slid down her body, his thumb finding her clit. He began to rub it in tight circles, his movements synced with their thrusts. She bucked her hips and cried out. The two men held her tight, their movements growing more frantic as they felt her approaching climax, as well as their own.

Her moans grew louder, her body tightening around them. "I'm going to come," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Oh, fuck, I'm going to come."

Jack's grip on her tightened, his thumb pressing down harder on her clit. "Come for us, baby," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Come for John and me."

Their strokes grew more powerful, their bodies moving as one. And then, with a scream that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, y/n came. Her orgasm washed over her, a tidal wave of pleasure that left her trembling and gasping for breath.

Jack and John didn't let up, their strokes unrelenting as they chased their own releases. They watched her face, the way she bit her lip and arched her back, her body shuddering with the force of her climax. It was intoxicating, a sight that pushed them closer and closer to the edge.

With a load groan of ecstasy, Jack came with an intense shudder, inside her. John followed suit, his cock pulsing as he filled her ass with his cum. They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat and their hearts pounding.

For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing, the three of them lost in the aftermath of their shared passion. Then, y/n reached up, her hands shaky as she touched Jack’s face. She looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and amazement.

"That was... amazing," she said, still breathless. "I never knew I could feel like that."

Jack and John shared a grin, their eyes gleaming with a newfound camaraderie. They had given her an experience she would never forget, and the memory of it would surely fuel their fantasies for weeks to come.

But for now, all that mattered was the here and now, the three of them tangled together in the afterglow of their shared desire. They lay there, panting and sweaty, the warmth of their bodies melding together. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure, a moment that would forever be etched in their memories as the night they pushed the boundaries of their friendship and their love lives to the absolute limit.

“It’s a shame you’re leaving man, might’ve considered doing it all again.” Jack laughed tugging y/n over a little closer to kiss her a top the head.

John smirked, his hand idly tracing patterns on her hip. “Maybe we can make it a send-off tradition?” He suggested, watching her face for a reaction. “When Utah plays the Devils it becomes a thing?”

“Ehhh. Maybe. Don’t get too excited Marino.” Jack stiffly chuckles while he’s moving y/n around to get her up for a bath. She’s already falling asleep on him. Making it harder on him. “Not saying no, not saying yes, it’s upset to babygirl here. I’ll do anything for her. Absolutely anything.”

[gwaedhannen]

Avari cities whose entire populace all faded thousands of years ago.

The gates are open, yet you know you are watched as you walk in.

Surely that is the sound of a bustling marketplace around the bend? But no, you reach the square and its empty of life. The stalls are open, but none sell food.

You take a wooden knickknack from one stall. As you walk away you feel— thiefthiefshameguiltyguiltyTHIEF

You double back and leave a coin. The pressure fades.

On the counter of the inn is a mug of fresh beer, waiting for you. You leave a coin. No, two coins. This was generous.

You sit at an empty table and do not feel alone. You can almost hear the bawdy singing and smell the roasting pork.

The ale tastes like the farm in the dells where you danced with your husband in the wheat fields and kissed him below the endless stars and the bedroom where you promised your eternal soul to his and the floorboards he cut himself that you buried his empty shell under and the green door you closed behind you for the last time as you set out for something new and the eastward breeze that sometimes carries his voice out of the Uttermost West and the answers you’ll never give him

You were never married. You’re not thirsty anymore.

As you lie down in an empty room, nothing wishes you peaceful dreams.

You wake up. The bed is a mound of dirt. The inn is dust. The marketplace is stones and overgrowth. The gate is closed. The walls about it are gone.

In what might have been the rot of the stall you visited, no copper gleams. You take the toy you purchased from your pocket. The paint is still unchipped.

You leave through what might have been a watchtower, once. Remember, you do not hear it say.

[elspethdekarios]

Places in Waterdeep

According to this reddit comment, Gale’s tower is most likely in the Dock Ward on the corner of Sea Lion and Sail Street. Assuming Gale and Tav spend most of their time in Waterdeep either at home or at Blackstaff (well, depending on what your tav does for a living! I imagine mine works nearby), here are some possible locations for all your fanfic needs. I’m using this map and the descriptions it gives for the locations. This is not an exhaustive list–just the ones I thought might be the most useful to writers.

- Near Gale’s Tower (Dock Ward) -

Taverns and Inns:

The Quaffing Quaggoth

Tavern. A favorite among sailors, merchants, and young nobles, this dwarven owned and operated establishment is known for its own specialty brew – the Quaggoth, a thick house-brewed stout mixed with a shot of a house secret liquor.

The Sailors' Own

Tavern. The place is low-beamed and crowded, with weary sailors slumped on benches playing at board games, cards, or merely getting thoroughly drunk. This place is just what its name implies. It belongs to the sailors, and they don't really want anyone else here. The proprietor is Guthlakh 'Hands' Imyiir. (so, maybe not likely for them to frequent this one, but who knows!)

The Pickled Fisherman

Tavern

The Soaring Pegasus

Tavern

Bard inn

A cozy inn owned by a family of past adventurers, it appears to have been fixed up recently. Most of its visitors are sailors, but it has been known to house meetings between gangs in order to keep the peace. In the basement is a hidden underground fighting ring.

The Angry Coxswain

The tavern contains a one-way portal connecting with a prison cell in the slave market in the Mulhorandi city of Skuld.

The Yawning Portal

Inn. Built in 1306 DR on the ruins of Halaster Blackcloak's old tower, the Yawning Portal gained most of its renown for being the primary open route to the Undermountain. The Portal's innkeeper, Durnan, is a former adventurer of great power and renown.

The Gray Griffon

Tavern

Darth's Dolphyntyde

Tavern

Selune's Smile

Tavern

Azuth's Mug

Tavern

The Rearing Hippocampus

Inn. Probably the classiest inn in Dock Ward. Favored by many caravan masters and merchants who want a good, secure place to sleep, and regular visitors to the city who have business near the harbor.

The Splintered Stair

Inn. The entry hall of this room rises up three floors, overlooked by interior balconies linked by elegantly spiraling stairs.

The Blackstar Inn

This dignified, even haughty inn is like a fortress on the outside, with barred windows, stone walls, and a slate roof. Its lobby has two armed guards, and the four hostlers in the locked stables are also armed. Fees are high, but in return, guests get almost soundproof rooms. Each room has a hip-bath, a double bed, water and wine provided for drinking and various pamphlets and chapbooks provided for light reading. Each room also has its own fireplace, albeit with a miserly supply of firewood, and the patrons tend to keep to themselves. A good place to get a long soundsleep. Asiyra Boldwinter is the proprietress of this inn. Her manner is one of uppercrust, noble dignity.

The Empty Keg

The Empty Keg is a rowdy beer-hall. Later at night, it sees visits from workers from Mother Salinka's next door to reinvigorate business there.

The Red-Eyed Owl

This is the closest thing Waterdeep has to a comfortable, unimpressive, welcoming gathering place for the neighborhood. It is the kind of place where friends will come in and hail each other across the room. The food and drink are pleasant, if unspectacular, and you'll be allowed to sit in peace. It is a rambling old wooden building that looks as if it's about to fall into the street. Balarg 'Twofists' Dathen, a man with long, red hair, owns and runs the tavern.

The Sleepy Sylph

Tavern. Locals in the neighborhood come here for a single drink, to enjoy the music and to watch the waitresses (wearing diaphanous robe), and then go to the Owl, just steps away to eat and drink at about a third the price. The owner is Callanter Rollingshoulder, a tall man dressed in dark silken robes with a magnificent mustache.

The Bloody Fist

Tavern. Bullies and angry people come here to pick fights, and a room upstairs is retained for a succession of novice priests of Tempus who dress broken bones and perform minor healing magics in return for donations to the war god. Members of the Bull Elk Tribe can usually be found drinking here. Proprietor: Uglukh Vorl, a half-orc.

The Sleeping Snake

Tavern. This rowdy place is roughly furnished in hastily mended furniture. Members of the Black Boar Tribe can usually be found drinking here.

Festhalls and Entertainment:

From the Forgotten Realms wiki: “A festhall was an establishment combining the services of brothels, casinos, and private clubs. Festhalls provided a variety of adult-themed leisure activities and entertainment, including sex work, gambling, day spas, dining, exotic dancing, companionship, role-play, and other specialized interests.”

The Mermaid's Arms

Festhall. Elegant dining lounges, in which one dines or just drinks with an attractive host or hostess (or alone). Increasingly, the Arms is being used by single gentlefolk for a night of love. In other words, patrons are going there to meet each other, not to hire a host or hostess for the night. The Arms is large, well-lit, always busy, and can be quite expensive.

The Hanging Lantern

Festhall. The Lantern, an escort service known for the stunning beauty of its workers, and for the skill of its matchmakers, is famous up and down the Sword Coast.

Blushing Nymph

Festhall. The long stair links the oubliette of the Blushing Nymph festhall with Undermountain's first level.

Mother Salinka's House of Pleasures

This is a dingy low-coin festhall owned by halflings and frequented by those who are there for a 'brief visit', or can't afford or are turned away from the Yawning Portal.

Three Pearls Nightclub

Festhall. Pearls, as it is called, is a popular evening destination for Waterdhavians, offering stand-up comics, trained animal acts, illusionists' recitals, bards, orators, and exotic dancing. It has a low ceiling and is usually hot and smoky. The manager, Xandos Waeverym, is known as 'the Dandy'.

Seven Masks Theater

The theater caters to a lower-class clientele, and ship captains and sailors are admitted for free. The owner of the theater is a burly and jovial Shou man with a braided goatee named Rongquan Mystere.

The Purple Palace

Festhall. This is the closest thing Waterdeep has to a Calishite silks-boudoir. Its lavender silk draperies and gauzy hangings are heavily perfumed. Everything is cushions, soft carpets, music, and purple-tinted, spiced wine. Companionship is expensive and very good.

The Smiling Succubus

Festhall. Not exactly the pride of Wharf Street, but one of its most popular destinations.

Businesses and Shopping:

Whistling Blades

Business. Weapons.

The Fishscale Smithy

Adventuring gear

Talnu's Ropeworks

Adventuring gear

The Old Xoblob Shop

This curiosity shop is filled with lots of battle trophies and souvenirs from Undermountain. Worth a look to see the stuffed beholder for which the shop is named. The shopkeeper is a deep gnome.

House of Pride Perfumes

Business. The House of Pride is crammed with a forest of glass bottles of all sizes, shapes, and hues. It is protected by a special enchantment that prevents glass from breaking. The shop is run by two sisters and is guarded by trained hunting dogs.

Khostal Hannass, Fine Nuts

Business. Food.

Felhaur's Fine Fish

Business. Food.

Miscellaneous:

Mirt's Mansion

Villa. Mirt is a friend of Durnan (see The Yawning Portal). Both used magic to extend their lives.

House of Two Hands

Monastery. Order of the Even-Handed.

Harborwatch Tower

City building

The Griffon

The walking statue called the Griffon is shaped like the beast for which it is named. Though it stands on all four legs, its back is fully twenty feet off the ground, making it a mount fit for a storm giant. Although it has shown itself to be capable of flight, with the granite feathers of its wings spreading like a bird's, the Griffon now merely stands in a regal pose near Peaktop Aerie atop Mount Waterdeep, looking to the southeast over the Dock Ward. Newcomers sometimes assume it to be a monument to Waterdeep's Griffon Cavalry, but Waterdavians know better.

Peaktop Aerie

City building

Castle Waterdeep

Thick-walled stronghold that broods over Castle Ward from the flanks of Mount Waterdeep. Pennants and banners are often hung and flown from its battlements to signal the arrival of diplomats or the commencement of ceremonies.

Starry Cradles orphanage

The Starry Cradles orphanage is a Dock Ward orphanage run by Matron Griselda Hoppletun, a halfling care-taker, and funded by the House of the Moon and the Selûnite clergy thereof.

- Near Blackstaff Tower (Castle Ward) -

Taverns and Inns:

Sapphire House

Expensive rooming house on Swords Street. The inn is a five-story building.

Tavern of the Flagon Dragon

Tavern. Three Stories high, stone dragons at the base of the walls are all gouting fire, two dragon helmed guards at the door. Caters more to the less-than-noble class.

The Singing Sword

Tavern. Three floors of busy diners enjoy one of the largest menus in Waterdeep. They are entertained by the high-voiced ballads of the wondrous magical blade for which the tavern is named. Gothmorgan Ilibuld, the proprietor, is a polite host.

Wyrmbones Inn

Inn

The Pampered Traveler

Inn. This inn stands like an exotic castle. There is inside a library filled with books and a reading table with a glass top, under which can be seen a map of the known Realms as far west as the Moonshaes, as far east as Thay, and as far south as the Shaar. All in all, a quietly luxurious place to stay. This is undoubtedly the wealthy scholar's choice of hostel. The inn is run by Brathan Zilmer, guildmaster of the Fellowship of Innkeepers.

Dauntlyn's Doors

Luxury Inn

The Elfstone Tavern

Tavern. This old, dimly lit tavern caters to elves. By night, dancing lights spells bathe the place in soft, floating, blue motes of light. Gentle harp, pipe, flute, and choral music is performed and service is fast and graceful. Dwarves and half-orcs will be driven away; humans and halflings are tolerated in small parties; half-elves are just accepted. Yaereene Ilbaereth is the tavern's proprietress.

The Blue Jack

Tavern. The tavern specializes in low prices and fast service, and it's a success. Immithar the Glove, the tavern's proprietor, is quick with a joke or to mimic the speech of other.

The Jade Jug

Inn. Waterdeep's plushest inn. Guests are attended by a personal servant for the duration of their stay and their every need is attended to. The charming, beautiful, one-armed hostess is Amaratha Ruendarr. She notices every detail.

The Dragon's Head Tavern

Tavern. This modest place is aimed at those who like to sit quietly and chat over their drinks. The proprietor is Vorn Laskadarr.

The Asp's Strike

Tavern

Festhalls and Entertainment:

Jhural's Dance

Festhall

Silavene's

Festhall

The Smiling Siren

Festhall. Nightclub & Theater. Home to a company of popular local actors who can perform everything from rowdy comedy to high tragedy. Nobles often hire the place for an evening for exclusive performances. The Siren is also home to traveling troupes of vaudeville jugglers, comedians, and nearly nude dancers or burlesque dancers. Before and between performances, the place is used for drinking and dancing to live music, sometimes with show dancers on the stage. The mage Perendel Wintamer runs this nightclub.

Lightsinger Theater

Business. Entertainers.

Mother Tathlorn's House of Pleasure

Festhall. Entertainers. The most famous house of pleasure in Waterdeep is a large, five-floored building with two additional levels of dungeons below ground. Mother Tathlorn's has on staff several priests of Sune. The most popular service performed at Mother Tathlorn's is massage and bathing, but all of this luxury and pleasure doesn't come cheaply.

Businesses and Shopping:

The Market

Open marketplace. Largest open space in the city surrounded by stone buildings that enclose the maze of temporary stalls and carts that appear here day and night.

Blackwell's Fine Books and Good Tomes

Blackwell's Fine Books and Good Tomes is a posh retail shop, located in the shadow of the God Catcher statue. Owned and operated by the Blackwell family, Blackwell's Fine Books and Good Tomes specializes in rare and antique manuscripts. The shop is especially known, among the noble set, for its restoration, document preservation, as well as transcription services. Mr Blackwell's son, Aldous, has been known to keep an eye on any ancient texts which spend time in the family's shoppe.

The Bookstore occupies the bottom of a three story building. The upper two stories are the Blackwell's lavish townhome apartment.

Paethier's Pipeweed

Business

Eilean's Maztican Delights

Business

Sharkroar - Harth Shalark's Broadsheets

Business

Sorynth's Silverware

Business

The Curious Past

Business is run by Bronwyn Caradoon, dealing in exotic items while also being a front for Harper Activity.

Diloontier's Apothecary

Assassins. Drugs. Poisons. Potions. Now renamed to 'Diloontier's & Sons Apothecary'.

This upscale store catered to the elite of Waterdhavian society. Those who had the right credentials and money for it could quietly purchase poisons and more nefarious potions from the proprietor.

Balthorr's Rare & Wondrous Treasures

Business. Magic items. Balthorr 'the Bold' Olaskos will fence stolen items for 40% market value.

Old Knot Shop

Adventuring gear

Rebeleigh's Elegant Headwear

Business. Clothing.

Halls of Hilmer, Master Armorer

Armor. Hilmer, a tall, strong, and soft-spoken man, with shoulders as wide as most doors, only makes plate, but he's known as the best, or among the best, in all the Sword Coast lands. He's a master craftsman.

Halambar Lutes & Harps

Business. Entertainers. This shop sells all sorts of stringed musical instruments. Kriios Halambar, guildmaster of the Council of Musicians, Instrument-Makers, and Choristers owns and runs this shop.

The Golden Key Locksmiths

Business. The proprietor, Ansilver, makes custom locks to order, and guarantees that he's never sold a key that will open the lock you buy from him to anyone else.

Phalantar's Philtres & Components

Business. Drugs. Poisons. Potions. Here you can buy medicines, herbs, and rare substances used in the making of perfumes, scented oils, poisons, and as material components in the casting of spells. Phalantar Orivan will fence stolen goods for 40% market value. He is said to be fabulously rich.

Olmhazan's Jewels

Business. All the gems one can think of, except very rare or magical sorts. Jhauntar Olmhazan, Gentleman Speaker for the Jewelers' Guild, owns and runs this shop.

Temples:

Font of Knowledge

Temple of Oghma. Largest public library in the city.

Halls of Justice

Temple of Tyr. Holy Order of the Knights of Samular.

Spires of the Morning

Temple of Lathander. Order of the Aster.

Temple of the Seldarine

Temple of all elven deities.

Miscellaneous:

Melody Mount Walk

A magically lit tunnel that runs west up to the cliffs on which the New Olamn barding college is situated. The tunnel contains a little-known portal between Waterdeep and the keep in Rassalantar. The tunnel continuously resounds with music due to an ongoing concert known as the Neverending String of Pearls that is performed by bardic students from New Olamn in a small alcove in the tunnel.

Syndra Wands' Tower

Wizard's domicile.

The Lady Dreaming

One of the eight enormous statues called the Walking Statues of Waterdeep, scattered throughout Waterdeep to defend the city in times of great peril. This statue has the appearance of a titanic sculpture of a noble lady asleep in her garden.

The Great Drunkard

One of the eight enormous statues called the Walking Statues of Waterdeep, scattered throughout Waterdeep to defend the city in times of great peril. The unconscious pose of the statue and the tavern in its lap made the name of the Great Drunkard a natural fit.

Duir's Alley

This busy, winding passage is often the scene of spell demonstrations and practice, as patrons or staff spill out of the rear of the Elfstone Tavern and unleash magic down the alley.

Cat Alley

Recently, a masked, rapier-wielding, quietly chuckling assailant has made this a dangerous place for women after dark.

The God Catcher

One of the eight enormous statues called the Walking Statues of Waterdeep, scattered throughout Waterdeep to defend the city in times of great peril. This is perhaps the most famous walking statue in the city, thanks to its dramatic pose : a well-muscled but impassive male human with a sphere of stone floating above its right hand raised skyward.

Piergeiron's Palace

White marble Palace and main office location for many city officials, the majority of which are dedicated to the administration of city services, such as the Watch, the Guard, city clerks, and the Loyal Order of Street Laborers. The ruler of the city - the Open Lord of Waterdeep - resides and works here.

Tower of the Order

Guildhall. Magic items. Scrolls. Watchful Order of Magists & Protectors.

House of the Fine Carvers

Guildhall. Guild of Fine Carvers.

The Map House

Guildhall. Surveyors', Map & Chart-makers' Guild.

[highvern]

Lucky Me

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem reader

Genre: idiots in love, fluff, established relationship

Warnings: sickening sweet tooth rotting fluff, kissing, tears, brief mention of illness, in this lore Seungchoel is a married man and off the proverbial streets

Length: ~1.4k

Note: Drunk Goggles couple's first L-word! post Discovery by like a few weeks lmao. I'm actually crying in the club bc Mingyu is my ENXJ kindred spirit so i wrote this in the most self serving way possible lol

read more here

“Can’t believe you’re not picking up your phone right now. Really selfish of you. What if I was dying in the street and you didn’t know because you ignored my call? What then, huh? Your poor boyfriend just wants to talk to you but I guess you hate me now.”

You chuckle at the sound of your Mingyu’s scolding. Always one for dramatics, that one. Toweling off your hair, you move to tidy the discarded packaging from the decorations you spent hanging all afternoon. Mingyu’s voicemail plays through the speaker of your phone on the counter as you work to clean up before people start arriving.

“Anyways! I picked up the cake for the party tonight, and some more snacks and beer just in case. The lady at the bakery said the cake took her all morning because the picture I sent of Jihyo kept making her laugh. Hate to say it but I think you have some competition. I can already see us getting married and being her sugar baby.”

Everytime an old lady even compliments Mingyu he tells you to watch your back because they want to steal him from you. Your eyes roll at his comments but they humor you nonetheless.

“She’s nowhere near as pretty as you though, so she's gonna need to step up her game. Alright, I’m gonna stop at my place to shower and grab some clothes and then I’ll head your way. Text me if I need to get anything else on my way, okay? Love you, bye!”

You freeze, plastic bags and towel dropping to the floor with a wet thud. 

“Shit.” 

You hear his faint curse through the speaker as the voicemail ends. 

Heart squeezing as you replay his words over and over, you plop down on your butt to the hard wooden floor. Love you, bye! Love you, love you, love…

He loves me.

Oh boy.

The new information is magical, twisting your insides in knots as you think of all the times you’ve wanted to say those very words you’ve buried in your chest over and over. The times he makes you laugh so hard you think you might pee your pants, his own giggles pulling him to the ground; when he cleaned out space in his dresser for your stuff, buying duplicates of your toiletries so you could come over whenever you wanted and feel at home; when your car broke down on the side of the road and he came to pick you up, racing across town in the dark of night to get you; when Wonwoo told you he’d never seen Mingyu so happy since you’d started dating; the time he cried when Seungcheol recited his vows to his now wife; how he always pulls a extra mug out of the cabinet when he makes his morning coffee, leaving it next to the machine with a sweet note for when you get up.

I love him.

Oh boy, indeed.

Standing, you grab your phone from the counter. Mingyu called almost an hour ago meaning he will be at your apartment any second. You use the few minutes you have left to calm your breathing, praying your hands stop shaking and the blush you feel dissipates as you open the freezer and pludge your face into the cold air.

A clunky knock at the door startles you. Sprinting to unlock it, you nearly fly face first into the door knob in your haste. 

On the other side is your boyfriend, thick waves of stress palpable as they roll off his body. Mingyu’s hands are full with groceries so you snag the cake, planting a quick kiss on his chin in greeting.

“Hi,” he mumbles, fear evident on his face.

“Hi!” You beam, dazzling smile thrown over your shoulder as you walk back toward the kitchen.

“Ugh, did you get my message?” 

Mingyu pauses to kick off his shoes by the door, nervousness firing through every fiber of his being. He meant what he said on the phone, but you've only been dating for a few months and he doesn’t want to mess anything up by being over eager. Correction: he can’t mess this up; he’s certain the heartbreak would kill him.

Mingyu prides himself on all the times he’s reigned in those three little words from slipping past his lips. Whenever he’s drunk and sees you smile, whenever he’s sober and sees you smile; when you cried about your shitty boss; when he cried at Seungcheol’s wedding, imagination running rampent; every morning when he wakes up next to you and every night before falling asleep in the same place; when you took care of him when he had the flu a few weeks ago; the first time he saw the new toothbrush you bought him to keep at your place, sitting in the cup on bathroom sink right next to yours. The list is endless. 

He can’t help that he’s built to love so deeply; his friends, his family, all of the important people in his life have their own space carved in his heart including you. Even before you started dating he cared for you. Your name has been branded in his chest since day one and inferno has only grown as his fondness expands with each moment.

“Yeah, I did. Sorry I missed your call, I was in the shower.”

“It's okay! I just know you like to be kept updated.”

After placing Jihyo’s birthday cake safely in the fridge, you turn to face your boyfriend. He looks like he might actually throw up, hands shaking as he unpacks the bags he’s brought in and eyes refusing to look in your direction. You can tell Mingyu is watching you out of his peripheral, waiting for you to comment on his confession with bated breath.

You stride around the kitchen island to stand next to him, helping sort the different treats he bought in silence. The juxtaposition between you two is almost laughable. You’re all shy smiles and flushed cheeks, unable to control the wild thump of your heart; while Mingyu looks like he might sprint out the door and into traffic at the drop of a hat.

Once all the bags are discarded, food lining the counter to be prepped, you turn to rest your back against the edge of the cool marble, your soft gaze focuses on his face. Arms crossing in front of you, you watch as he pretends to be busy to avoid meeting your eyes.

“I love you too.” You confess shyly, sides of your mouth quirking upwards.

Mingyu’s head shoots up so fast you’re afraid he might give himself whiplash. All you can do is smile demurely, embarrassed by the way he stares at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Really?”

Biting your lip to control the grin attempting to split your face in half, you nod gently.

Next thing you know you’re consumed in a tight embrace, squashed into his chest as he squeezes you so hard you might explode. The smell of his cologne and laundry detergent waft of his shirt, soothing your own nerves as you relax in his hold. You can hear his heart racing in his chest, thundering below your ear; your own echoing in response.

“Say it again.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.

You can’t help but laugh.

“I love you.”

“Oh my god.” He gasps.

“Say it back.” you pout, chin digging into his pec as you peer up at him.

For a second, all Mingyu can do is stare at you, face soft with emotion, eyes cataloging your features. In his wildest dreams, he never thought he’d be fortunate enough to feel this way about another person. How lucky is he that the person he loves loves him too?

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He says, hands moving to cup your face as he emphasizes a different word with each repetition, tip of his nose rubbing against the side of your own.

“Baby, are you crying?”

“I can’t help it! I love you! And you love me!” He wails, pushing his face into your cheek. “I think I’m gonna faint.”

“Aww, Gyu!” You coo, turning your head to kiss away his tears as they fall.

Mingyu catches your lips with his, needing to show you how much he cares for you rather than just tell you. 

But one more time doesn’t hurt.

“I love you.”

[highdefhoetry]

Just for the night.

cw: nsfw!! female reader, lots of sexual tension and buildup, casual sex/hookup, premature ejaculation, oral sex (vaginal), blowjobs, penetration (brief vaginal fingering & penis in vagina), spanking, biting, light breast play/nipple sucking, cumming in mouth, missionary and doggy style, creampie, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, no use of (y/n)

summary: a wayfaring group of pirates come into your tavern while you're on the clock, and a certain swordsman catches your eye.

author's note: i JUST started watching one piece and i've only made it to the reverse mountain arc, this fic takes place sometime in between arlong park and loungetown!

It had been an interesting night at work. The town was throwing some kind of festival, quite common during this time of the year, and the bar had been nonstop busy ever since your boss had opened the doors. You lost count long ago of how many beers you’d poured, how many wooden kegs you’d refilled, how many plates of piping hot food you’d served, and how many times you’d avoided unwanted groping from eager hands. You’d earned some good money, though, which almost made it worthwhile. 

The most interesting part of the night, however, were the new faces who’d shown up earlier that evening. A ragtag group who claimed to be pirates had come into the tavern for a drink and a good time after getting wind of the local festivities, joining the celebration that had begun a couple hours ago. The self-proclaimed captain of the weirdos, a rubber man donning a straw hat and flip flops, had joined some of the patron in a meat eating contest and was currently on his way to beat the reigning champ. His navigator, a young redhead with a charming smile and big, bright eyes, was schmoozing some poor bastard who was too drunk to notice her slipping his wallet out of his pocket. Then there was the blonde Frenchman, a casanova type who was hitting on a few of your giggling coworkers. A cigarette dangles from his lips, which he ashes on the floor. 

Truly, they were the definition of a motley crew.

It’s now halfway through your shift, and orders have died down considerably. Most of the patrons are passed out at their tables while others are being carried home by their companions. The tavern is still pretty lively, but you manage to sneak away for a moment and catch a breather. You pour yourself a cup of water and take a sip as you watch the chaos unfold. 

As you continue looking around, silently observing the chaotic scene, the sight of sea green catches your eye. You notice a stern-looking man mulling in the far corner, sipping on a giant mug with a frown. He looks a bit out of place, but you remember seeing him come in with those straw hat freaks earlier. You hear the rubber man call out to him, something about a dance-off or whatever, and the green-haired man barks out a loud “No!” before crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall again with a scowl.

Very interesting, indeed. 

Who could this man be?

“Are you serious?! That’s the Roronoa Zoro?”

“I’m not lying!! Look at his waist, don’t you see those swords he’s carrying? Only Roronoa Zoro uses the three sword technique! It has to be him!”

The annoying, high pitched voices of your coworkers garners your attention. You turn to look at the three frightened waitresses, who are currently huddled behind the bar in an attempt to avoid the scowling man’s gaze. 

“Someone’s gotta bring him his sake. He ordered it like an hour ago.”

“No way. I’m not going near him! He’ll probably kill me just for looking at him!”

“Well I’m not going over there! I’m not risking my life for a few dollars.”

It was the perfect excuse to approach him. You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance as you grab the tray from their hands.

“Fine. I’ll go. You damn scaredy cats.”

Your comment earns a few glares, but you pay them no mind. You fill the giant mug with sake and waltz over to the sullen swordsman. Someone starts playing the accordion; someone else grabs a fiddle. The tavern turns into a dance floor, and its drunk patrons cry out in excitement while they fall over one another trying to get there.

You approach this so-called Roronoa Zoro, but before you can get a word out, he says,

“I’m not going to dance, if that’s what you came to ask me.”

You raise a brow in confusion. “What?”

“You came all the way over here to talk to me, didn’t you? I can tell you got somethin’ you wanna ask. Get it over with already and stop wasting my time.”

Was this guy for real? You scoff and slam the tray down on the table in front of him.

“You ordered sake, didn’t you?”

He narrows his eyes. “How’d you know that?”

“I work here?”

You give him a perplexed look, and he responds with a wide-eyed stare before mentally facepalming himself. He grabs the mug from the tray and mutters a “took you long enough” before taking a huge gulp. 

Up close, you can see more of his features. He was tall, handsome, and quite muscular. His skin was tan, kissed by the sun after many days spent traveling the seas. He donned three gold dangling earrings in his left ear and had a black cloth tied around his forearm. His muscled arms bulged in his thin white shirt, and you could see a thin sheet of sweat on his exposed chest. Then, of course, there was that odd seagreen colored hair, which, as far as you could tell, was completely natural. You’d never seen anyone who looked like him before, and it intrigued you deeply. You couldn’t stop staring, even when he caught you looking from the corner of his eye.

“I take it you’re not a fan of dancing?” you ask in a weak attempt to make conversation.

He grunts in response. With arms crossed again, he lets out a sigh and gazes at the crowd on the dance floor, his expression cold and unfriendly.

He must not have been a fan of talking, either. You’re about to leave when suddenly your eyes meet, and his gaze captures your attention. Those eyes… something about them made it impossible to look away. They were deep chesnut brown, and held both a fiery passion and a deep sadness that tugged at your heartstrings…

“What’s the matter? Is there somethin’ on my face?”

The gruff voice snaps you out of it. You shake your head vigorously.

“No! It’s just… you’re not from around here, are you?”

He scoffs, shifting in place.

“No. I’m not.”

“You must be with that weird pirate crew who came in earlier.”

“Yup. That’s my idiot captain over there,” he juts his chin in the same direction as the straw hat man, who was laughing and jumping around like a little kid. You stifle a laugh, wondering how the hell these two ended up on the same crew together. 

“And you are?”

“Roronoa Zoro. His right hand man.”

So your coworkers were right, after all. You’d never heard of him, but apparently he was well-known. You didn’t see why they were so scared of him, though. He seemed like a regular guy, apart from the three swords and grumpiness.

“Well? Are you gonna tell me your name or what?”

“Oh!” You snap yourself out of it and tell him your name. He grunts again.

“Huh. That’s fitting.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’. Nevermind.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face. Subtle, but noticeable. That must’ve been his strange way of teasing you. You decide to let it go for now.

“Why are you sulking around back here? Don’t you wanna join in on the fun?” you ask, keeping your tone light and playful.

Zoro raises an eyebrow and takes another sip of his sake, his eyes fixated on the lively crowd.

“Too loud in there… Luffy’s laugh gives me a headache.”

“Yeah, it has gotten a bit rowdy. Tends to happen at this time of night.”

He nods in agreement. “So… don’t you need to get back to work or somethin’?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No,” he murmurs. “Just wouldn’t want you to get caught slacking off.”

You give him a cheeky little smile. “I’m hiding. It’s been crazy busy all night and I need a breather.”

He grunts again, leaning back against the wall.

“I don’t blame you… I hide from Luffy quite often.”

He says it with a smirk, but chuckles when he looks over at Luffy and the others. He was acting like he was irritated, yet he spoke of his captain with fondness and admiration. You could tell he cared about him deeply, despite his grievances. It gave you a warm fuzzy feeling that made you smile again.

“My shift’s almost over, anyway. And most of the other waitresses are caught up with that French guy over there,” You point at the blonde guy on the other side of the room, who’s still surrounded by your swooning coworkers. 

“Tch. Typical.”

The conversation lulls again, but it feels less awkward this time. You lean back against the wall, mirroring his body language, and go back to being a silent observer. He appears to do the same. He seems a bit more relaxed, though. He’s not as closed off as he was before you started speaking.

“Soooo… how’s the sake?”

He glances over at you, sets the mug on the table.

“Actually, it’s very good. I’m liking it a lot. Been awhile since I’ve had the good stuff.”

Your eyes dart to his drink. “I’ve never had that kind before.”

“You want some…?”

“Don’t mind if I do!”

You grab the mug before he can say another word and take a huge swig. It goes down smoother than you thought it would. The taste is light and refreshing, the perfect drink to end a long night of work.

“Damn, that’s good sake! I can’t believe I haven’t tried it until now!”

He chuckles quietly, a small smile creeping up his face. It was kinda cute. Made him look even more handsome. Although his grumpy scowl was cute in its own way, too.

“You have good taste.”

“Mind if I have another?”

He gestures his hands towards the mug. “Be my guest.”

The two of you hit it off, chatting about this and that for some time while the party raged on around you. The sound of lively chatter fell to the background as you inched closer to one another, until it felt like you were the only ones in the room. As the night went on, more and more people started to head home, except for a few of the regulars and the straw hats who lingered in the main room. By the time your coworkers started closing up, you were already pretty buzzed from the egregious amount of sake you’d had. You reach for the bottle again but realize it’s empty.

“...Ah, sorry, I drank a lot of your sake…” you frown, feeling a little guilty for drinking most of his order. “Want me to grab you another one? It’ll be on the house.”

“Eh, it’s fine. But thanks,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he turns towards you, towering over your head with one arm braced on the wall beside your head. “I’m sure.”

He’s so close. You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating. The smell of sea salt and sweaty man wafts in the air. His eyes bore into you, analyzing your face and body, as if he’s waiting for your next move.

“So…” you start, rubbing your lips together. “Did you all get rooms here for the night?”

“We did. Why?”

You shrug, trying to force back a smile.

“Just wondering.”

He raises an eyebrow, looks you up and down.

“If you wanna see me so bad, you don’t need to be coy about asking.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure ya don’t.”

Pause. Something crashes down on the floor; you both look just in time to see Luffy falling down with a large meat bone sticking out of his mouth. You splutter out a laugh, but are silenced when a strong hand takes your chin and pulls it back towards Zoro, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“You’re not being very honest,” he growls, and your heart skips a beat.

“That’s rich, coming from a pirate,” you bite back, hiding how flustered you are behind a bratty facade.

“...Hah, touché.”

He lets go of your chin, but keeps his eyes on you. There seems to be an impasse. The two of you dance around your subtle attempts to flirt, as if waiting to see which one will misstep first. The tension was so thick you felt like you could reach out and touch it with your hand. Those beautiful brown eyes of his gaze deeply into your own, never faltering for even a second.

“It’s getting late,” he says.

“It sure is,” you respond, breath hitching in your chest. “Do you need an escort to your room?”

His eyes grow wide for a moment, then he lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. 

“Now you decide to be bold.”

He gets off the wall and nods his head toward the staircase leading up to the guest rooms. You move to follow him, but stand up a little too quickly and feel a rush of blood go to your head, stumbling as you take a step forward. He catches you, grabbing your waist with his strong hands before you can fall.

“Jeez, are you really that drunk?” he grumbles, placing your arm across his shoulders and steadying you with an arm wrapped around the small of your back. You’re really not that drunk, but there’s nothing wrong with a little white lie and some bad acting to get close to someone, right?

“Shut up…” you mumble. “I just drank it too fast, that’s all.”

His firm hand, his strong arms carrying you, his low baritone voice growling in your ear… he really was handsome… or maybe it was the sake getting to your head. Either way, you feel your cheeks flush as he leads you upstairs, taking cautious steps to ensure you don’t trip and fall.

For some reason, it takes longer than it should have to get there. He stumbles around, checking each door and dragging you down every single damn hallway with you leaning against his body for balance. You start to get the sense that he doesn't know where the hell he's going. That is, until you finally stop at the last door on the left.

"Are you sure this is the right room?" you ask, suddenly feeling uncertain.

“Tch... shut up you damn lightweight…” he mumbles while fishing out his key. Once he turns the lock, you both go inside and shut the door behind you.

It’s a small, simple room, but one that serves its purpose. The bed takes up most of the space, and fortunately it’s just large enough to fit two. You plop down on the bed, still feeling a bit dizzy, and pat the empty space beside you. 

He lets out a small sigh before sitting down.

“Just so you know, it’s… been a while,” he grumbles sheepishly in a low voice, scratching the back of his head. You smile and put your hand on his thigh, slowly caressing it as you climb further and further. Your palm brushes against his crotch, where you feel his hardened cock poking through his pants.

“That’s alright. Same for me.”

You lock your gaze with his, falling silent as you both drink in the moment. Then, in tandem, the two of you lean forward. You feel his lips press against you, and the taste of sake greets your tongue. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You respond by putting a hand on the back of his neck, gently scratching at the buzzed hair on his scalp. He moans deeply, kissing you harder. Your tongue dances with his, your teeth gently bite his bottom lip. 

Your clumsy hands fumble as you try to undo his belt buckle and zipper. Eventually he lends a hand, yanking his pants down his legs before tossing them across the room along with his heavy boots. You hear a small crash; he cringes with furrowed brows while you giggle. But your laughter dies down when you look at his newly exposed cock and see what he’s been hiding under those clothes.

He’s huge. You’re not sure how big he is, but his dick is the biggest you’ve ever seen up close. It’s not that girthy, but makes up for that in length alone. If you had to guess it was at least 8 inches. It’s slightly paler than the rest of his body, a faint shade of tan lighter than his arms and legs. And it’s almost perfectly straight, with no curves or crookedness. You watch in awe as it throbs and pulses.

Without a word, you lean forward and take him into your mouth. You start off slow, simply sucking and licking the tip, and as soon as your lips wrap around his cock he lets out a long, deep, groan of pleasure. His dick tastes salty, but clean, as if he showered recently. Hygienic, for a pirate. After teasing him for a bit, you take his member into your mouth and slowly drag your lips and tongue down his shaft…

But suddenly, he lets out a strained cry, and you feel an explosion of warmth in your mouth. His dick pulses rapidly as he lets loose his load, filling your mouth with a salty, warm taste that you swallow instinctively. It goes limp after a few seconds. He pants heavily as he pulls it from your mouth.

“...Gahhh… Sorry…” he mutters, his face turning beet red. He won’t look at you, won’t even lift his head. It was cute seeing him all embarrassed. You couldn’t be mad that he came so quickly; after all, he’d warned you ahead of time, and the fast cum gave you something of a power rush. You wanted to tease him playfully, but figured he didn’t need another bruise to his pride right now.

Instead, you grab his chin and force him to look at you. You say nothing, leaning forward to kiss him so he could taste himself on your lips. At first he’s tense and uncertain, but soon he relaxes when he realizes you’re not going to kick him while he’s down. 

The kiss gets more intense, more demanding; he grabs the back of your head and gently pulls your hair at the base of your scalp, eliciting fluttered, airy moans from your lips. He kisses across your cheek, down your jaw and neck, lips fluttering against sensitive skin. Your moans grow louder when he tears your shirt, pulling the sleeves down your shoulders to expose your breasts. A shiver runs through you as your nipples are exposed to the cool air. He takes them in his mouth, sucking and licking your areolas while his hands grope and play with your soft tits. His fingers tease the skin, stroking the undersides of your chest, playing around to see what kind of reactions he can get from you. You alternate between cries of pleasure and fits of giggles, feeling a bit overstimulated. 

He pulls away for a moment, only to bark out an order.

“Lay down.”

You comply, letting him pull your shirt and skirt down over your hips and legs so he can admire your nude body. He pauses for a second to relish the sight of your nakedness before grabbing your thighs and holding them apart. Then, he buries his handsome face in your mound, right where it belongs. You moan loudly while he kisses your folds, presses his tongue against your clit, licks the entrance to your hole. It feels so fucking good, you find yourself clawing at his scalp in attempt to grab fistfuls of his short buzzed hair. He chuckles, confidence restored now that he’s brought you to the edge. He stays there, committed to your pleasure, until he’s certain you’re ready to take him. You feel his stick one of his thick fingers inside you for a moment, gasping as he tests your wetness. He smirks down at you once he feels how slippery you are.

Your eyes glance down quickly. His dick is fully erect once more. This man got hard just from eating you out; it makes you want him even more. He leans forward, bracing himself with both arms beside your head, kissing you while guiding his cock into your pussy. You gasp again when the tip pushes inside and cry out when he shoves the rest in without warning. He quietly grunts out a raspy "fuck", and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. He lets out short, jagged breaths as he pumps himself inside you. In and out, in and out, steadily increasing in intensity and speed. The smack of your skin against his in rhythm with your moans.

He slows down after some time, panting heavily while he pulls out. His cock still throbs as he holds it, and from his expression you can tell it’s taking everything in him not to explode. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and gives you another command.

“Turn around.”

You flip onto your stomach, then raise your ass in the air for more. His lips trail a path of kisses on each cheek, biting down now and then to keep you on edge. He chuckles every time he hears your little cries, bites a little harder to see how far he can go. Then suddenly, he takes his spanks you hard with his huge hand, causing you to shriek in both pleasure and pain.

“Ouch! God damn it, warn me next time!” you turn back to glare at him, getting a cheeky grin in response. He grips your cheeks, giving you another hard smack. 

“Here’s your warning.”

You don’t bother complaining this time. It feels too fucking good. The way he’s grabbing your hips, pushing his tip inside before ramming his dick into your hole while you cry out over and over, spanking you again and again until your cheeks are reddened and sore. From this angle he’s hitting all the right spots. You feel mindless pleasure, like your brain’s gone blank and all you can think of is his deep thrusts and sexy, guttural groans. He’s quiet, yet intense, focusing entirely on fucking you as hard and deep as possible. An orgasm rips through your body, sending electrifying shocks rippling every single nerve ending, but he doesn’t stop there. He’s close, you can sense it. A few moments later he comes again, releasing another heavy load inside you. His cock throbs as his cum fills you up, and he doesn’t pull out until he’s damn finished. And when he is, he collapses on the bed next to you, with a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his bronze skin.

You roll onto your back, taking a minute to catch your breath. You listen to your own unsteady breathing along with his, enjoying the quiet moment and the leftover waves of pleasure washing over your body. After a few minutes, you turn over and start to say something before realizing he’s fast asleep. He snores quietly, arms resting behind his head as he peacefully drifts into slumber.

He looks even cuter when he’s asleep. You laugh softly and nestle yourself in a cozy spot next to him before falling asleep yourself.

—-

The next morning, you carefully unwrap yourself from him and grab your clothes lying haphazardly on the floor. You start to dress yourself, but realize your shirt’s completely wrecked thanks to Zoro’s dumbass ripping it off your shoulders last night. You mutter in irritation and grab his shirt instead. He owed you that much.

As you make your way out of the room, you take one last look at the handsome swordsman and blow him a kiss goodbye before carefully shutting the door behind you. 

You had a lot of fun, even if it was just for the night. You’ll always remember him for that. Alas, he was a pirate, and soon he’d be gone, heading back to the sea in search of adventure.

But he would always know where to find you. 

[honeykaes]

heartbroken ghost

thoma x reader II 3.5k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with fem pronouns, switch!reader, switch!thoma, office au, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, hate sex?, blowjob, handjob, riding, use of alcohol, reader isn’t a good person, unedited

synopsis: everyone at the office seems to love thoma. He’s helpful, kind and dedicated to everyone…except for you

Thoma seemed to be beloved in the office. Working for the Kamisato conglomerate as an assistant, he was always helping out the people on his floor. He would bring in sandwiches, stay late helping people catch up with their work, and even buy a round of drinks for everyone once the day finally ended at the izakaya next door.

There was nothing but good things your coworkers would say about him. Everyone always found themselves smiling, whenever he would be brought up in conversation.

Yet, it seemed whenever the two of you were alone he wanted nothing to do with you. Heavy quietness, avoiding eye contact, furrowed brows—he held you at a distance and you had no idea why.

Finally, one day after work, gulping beers down at the izakaya, it seemed all your coworkers trickled out until it was just you and him. Your cheeks felt hot looking down at the froth of the beer smeared across the bottom of your mug, pouting as you finally finished your nth drink of the night.

You lifted your eyes up to see Thoma staring at you. Part of you was shocked he decided to stay, instead of paying the bill and leaving silently like he usually does.

 His green eyes were hazed in a cloud of drunkenness, leaning his soft cheek against his palm as his arm leaned on the table. His eyebrows were furrowed, cheeks flushed as the alcohol in his system pumped through his veins.

Oddly enough, there was something sultry about his eyes narrowing at you. Perhaps it was because you noticed the buttons of his white dress shirt popped down, showing a glimpse of his pectoral muscles from the angle he was leaning at. Or the pierced ears you never noticed he had.

You pouted before pushing your mug away. This would be a good time than any to ask him what his deal finally was. 

“Thoma, why do you hate my guts?” you asked, fingers strumming on the wooden table. Thoma's eyes slightly widened before he sighed, leaning his head back.

“...Can you leave already? I just want one more drink to myself without your presence here,” he replied. Your eyebrows furrowed, hearing his statement. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, leaning towards him from the other side of the table.

“Not until you explain yourself. You are literally, supernaturally kind to everyone but me. So what’s the deal? Did I piss you off or something? Is it jealousy—”

Thoma scoffed, lips curving into a disbelief smile as he shook his head. His false smile quickly fell again as he pushed away his empty glass and lifted his face away from his palm

“Of you? What do I need to be jealous of you for? There’s nothing that you have that I don’t,” Thoma replied. Your lips curved into a smile, as you leaned closer towards him. You noticed his eyes flicker towards your chest before heading back to your eyes. 

You would bet a thousand mora the peak of your cleavage also grabbed his attention.

“Is that right? Then explain yourself, since you do not need to be jealous of me…” you trailed off. You gasped a bit before chuckling to yourself. Thoma grunted.

“What’s so funny?” he asked. You tapped your lip contemplating on telling him.

“A memory just popped into my head. I remember the first day of the office. Instead of you showing me around, Mr. Kamisato did. Were you jealous the boss was showing me more attention than his favorite dog?” you hummed. Thoma furrowed his eyes, getting up from his seat. The mischievous look on your face softened, as you got startled by his sudden movement.

“You don’t remember me do you?” he asked. Your lips curled up about to laugh before Thoma peered at you from the corner of your eye. He was dead serious about this. Yet, his face doesn’t seem familiar.

 “...Figures,” Thoma sighed, burying his hands into his slacks. He threw a few bills down on the table before walking off toward the entrance of the bar and leaving. Despite the crowded and rowdy, dull roar of the salarymen and women around you, the only words that kept registering and repeating in your head were his words.

“You don’t remember me do you?”

You don’t recall anyone that resembled Thoma in your life. You tried your best not to think about your life before college, but was he a discarded figure hidden behind the doors of adolescents you never wanted to face again?

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you look down at your empty beer glasses surrounding you. The buzz of alcohol was beginning to dissipate thanks to that conversation. 

“I need a drink…” you muttered to yourself, getting up from the now-empty table. You made your way out the door, noticing the rain beginning to dretch the Tokyo skyline. The hard, cold droplets clung onto your clothes and hair, quickly drenching you as you cursed out, covering your head with your arms to try and fail to keep yourself dry.

Dashing off, feet wobbling as you struggled to keep up in your heels, you noticed an alleyway that seemed covered and slipped into it. Just as a sigh of relief would sweep through your lips, you noticed Thoma, leaning against the wall shocked to see your presence once again.

He was completely soaked as well, suit clinging onto his skin. He had taken his ponytail down, showing off how long the back part of his hair was. The most shocking part was the lit cigarette between his lips with a small trail of smoking floating upwards from it.

“Thoma? You smoke?” You asked. Thoma sifted the bud between his lips, rolling his eyes momentarily.

“That’s the first question you ask? How did you find me anyway?” he asked. You furrowed your eyebrows again. This guy really knows how to kill your buzz.

“Obviously I didn’t know it was going to rain. I…didn’t bring an umbrella, so this was the first place I saw as a shelter before I could wait this out and head to the trains once this passed,” you grumbled, crossing your arms.

“Besides, you didn’t answer my question,” you muttered. You were shocked to hear, Thoma chuckled. You had heard him laugh before, passing by him and a group in the hallway but this was the first time he seemed to laugh directly in front of you.

“Bad habit I took up from working as Mr Kamisato’s assistant. We all have vices and he has me pick up cigarettes for him. It was just supposed to be a social thing but when I find myself very stressed, I can’t help but indulge.”

“So I’m guessing I stressed you out from my question?” you grunted. Thoma didn’t reply as his gaze wandered away from you and down on the damp concrete ground.

You sighed once more, heels clicking as you walked beside him, leaning against the wall. The two of you remained quiet for a while, letting the pitter patters of the rain to the talking for you.

“...I knew you back in high school before I moved to Japan,” Thoma murmured, dropping his cigarette on the floor and grinding it softly with his dress shoe.

“I had the biggest crush on you, and it’s like you didn’t see me,” Thoma chuckled to himself, eyes narrowing in embarrassment and disappointment. Your eyes softened as you parted your lips to speak, but he kept talking.

“I’d try to do everything to get your attention, but it’s like you purposefully avoided or ignored me,” Thoma admitted. “I had to move shortly after that, but I vowed the next person I would pursue would never make me feel like that again.”

“...Thoma I—”

Thoma simply raised his hand up.

“I was a dumb 14-year-old. It’s been over 10 years. That crush has long died. We’ve both moved on and grew up, so don’t throw your pity onto me,” Thoma muttered. Your eyebrows furrowed as you scoffed. You pushed yourself off of the wall to directly face him.

“You don’t think I know that?” you barked back. Thoma didn’t reply, just remained quiet and looked at you with a scowl.

“Look Thoma, I don’t think you knew how much I hardly noticed anyone in high school because I assumed everyone thought I was a loser. I didn’t have a lot of friends, all I wanted to do was make it to graduation in one piece. I never thought you or even other boys even thought of me.”

“Well, you don’t have to fear that now because you’re not my type as an adult anyway—” Thoma trailed off, closing his eyes. You narrowed your eyes before leaning in, pressing your chest against his own as he gasped. Your hands pressed themselves on his collar.

“You want to say that again? Because I think you are a dirty liar, Thoma. Don’t think I didn’t see you checking out my tits earlier. You’re not as subtle as you think,” you muttered, lifting your chin up to stare him down directly. 

His cheeks were already red from the coldness of his wet clothes before he grunted.

“I-I could say the same thing. You didn’t think I couldn’t feel you’re staring, checking me out!” he stammered back. A grin curled on your face once more.

“Oh? Did your voice just crack? Are you embarrassed to be this close to a woman, hm?” you sarcastically cooed out. Thoma scoffed, narrowing his eyes.

“God, I hate you and the person you’ve become,” he grumbled. His lip slightly quivered, gaze bouncing between your expression and the wall. You quirked your head to the side, leaning towards his ear.

“...So why does it seem like you want to kiss me, huh?” you asked. Thoma clenched his jaw before, suddenly leaning in, capturing your lips for his own. You moaned, feeling your teeth clank against one another from his sudden forcefulness.

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. The sweetness from the beer from earlier coated both of your lips, as your tongues soon dragged between each other. You grabbed onto Thoma’s collar, pulling him in even deeper, heads moving and shifting to try to keep up with one another.

You soon bit down on Thoma’s lip softly, pulling the plush tissue back until letting it go. Your breaths were heavy and visible in the cold air, eyes half-lidded as you continued to stare at one another, realizing what you two had just done.

“(Y/n)—”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you interrupted as you leaned in to kiss him once more. Thoma had shifted, grabbing your chin with his fingers and lifting it as he moved his other arm to cage you in closer to him. A shaky moan escaped your lips as his lips trailed away from your lips to your neck, peppering the sensitive skin with soft kisses and nibbles.

Finding a suitable spot, he dragged his tongue across it before sucking and nibbling. You clung tighter to Thoma, pressing your thighs together to ease the ache of arousal beginning to burn between your legs. You raised a hand, pressing against his crotch. You could feel his cock pressing against the wet dark slack, shivering as his hips slightly bucked from the sudden sensation.

“N-Not here, We can get arrested if we go further…” Thoma whispered out, capturing your lips once more. Your hand continued to press firmly on his crotch, feeling his member get harder and twitch in excitement.

“M’serious,” he slurred out. “We can both lose our jobs from a scandal of getting caught and lose our visas. M’still not a permanent…citizen…” Thoma muttered as he continued to kiss you. He grabbed your hands, pressing them against the damp brick wall. Your noses pressed against each other, breaths heavy as you fought the urge to kiss him again.

“My apartment is close…we can go there…” he replied. You bit your lip and nodded, as the two of you quickly tried to adjust yourself. Pulling his jacket over your head, the two of you dashed out from the alleyway as he guided you toward his apartment. 

Your heart thumped, adrenaline fueling you as the lights of the cars illuminated his face. He seemed like he was smiling. A memory flashed in your head of a kid who sat in the front of the class in high school, smiling at you the same way.

“I guess he is sweet to everyone he meets…” you whispered to yourself.

Finally, Thoma turned away from the main street where you two walked into a very stylish and high-rise apartment complex. He waved to the doorman as he lifted his hat, greeting him back before you two made it to the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, you grabbed onto his collar and kissed him again. 

He groaned in the kiss, hands moving up and down across the curves along the wet clothes clinging onto your body before a loud ding was let out, as the door of the elevator opened once more. Thoma breaks the kiss before grabbing your hand and making a way to his apartment. He eagerly digs into his pocket, fumbling with his key before finally nudging it into the keyhole and opening the apartment. 

You walked in and grabbed his tie, as walked in after you. As soon as the door closed, you kicked off your shoes and he followed suit before the two of you struggled to get to the bedroom. You two quickly disrobed, letting the wet soggy clothes pile in a puddle on the ground before you push Thoma onto the bed.

His cock is raised high, pulsating every few seconds. You grab ahold of his member, as Thoma sucks a sharp breath in. You press your thumb at his flushed tip, pressing against the slit budding with precum. With a tight grip, you began to pump his cock, watching him bite his lip fighting the urge to moan out your name.

“F-Fuck…” he grunted out. A mischievous smirk fell on your lips as you made his way to your lap as you continued to jerk his cock. You pressed your tongue, letting it swirl along the sensitive tip as his hips jolted in delight.

You let one hand tightly grip his cock right under his tip, while the other continued to pump along the base. Thoma struggled, body shivering from the immense pleasure wafting throughout his body. He lifted his hand to his forehead, looking over at you with one open half-lidded eye. Drool dribbled down his bottom lip.

“H-How are you so g-ood at this?” he stammered out. You kissed his tip before keeping your mouth open as you could feel his cock beginning to twitch more. With a loud moan, thick ropes of cum shot out, finding its way on your tongue, face, and Thoma’s abdomen. His breaths were heavy, and his arms covered his face as he slowly came down from his high.

You swallowed the sticky and salty substance and wiped the remainder that clung onto your face.

“Ah, ah, ah…! Not done with you yet,” you hummed, grabbing onto his cock. You jumped his softening cock, watching it soon rise to full-length once more. 

“C-Condom…I should get a—” Thoma whispered, moving his arm away from his face. His cheeks were extremely flushed,  looking as if he was in a drunken state of euphoria. You leaned in, kissing him once again as you lifted yourself.

You pressed his tip along your slick opening, your cunt drooling in your own arousal that painted your crotch and dripped along your inner thighs.

“I’m on a pill. Don’t worry,” you cooed. Thoma grunted, lifting his upper body up. You gasped, feeling his hands make way to your hips, sinking you down suddenly on his cock. You covered your mouth, shocked at his forwardness again as he leaned his forehead against your own.

“Y-You know, you were sort of right earlier. I was jealous…” he admitted. You can barely register what he meant, feeling his thrust inside of you. Your hips bounced, meeting his pace. Your head lifting back in pleasure.

“...That day you joined the company and Mr.Kamisato showed you around. I could tell you were trying to flirt with him. I could see how you pressed your chest around him, how you’d try to flirt…it wasn’t fair…!” Thoma grunted, closing his eyes. His hands grabbed onto the mounds of your ass, digging his fingernails into the soft flesh. 

The sound of slapping flesh echoed out in the bedroom before Thoma grunted once more. He grabbed onto your chin, lifting your head up to look you in the eye.

“Are you even paying attention?!... How is it you seemed to throw yourself at him but not me!” he groaned. Your chest bounced at his face tempo, hand pressed against your stomach where you could feel him stretching you out with every thrust. 

“T-Thoma!” you called out. His eyebrows furrowed as one hand found its way to your clit, pressing against the sensitive mound as you yelp louder.

“I won’t let you forget this…” Thoma moaned, furrowing his eyebrows and capturing your lips. Your hands moved towards his back, nails harpooning against the skin raking downwards. He grunted into the kiss. 

Your walls began to flutter, squeezing his cock rutting inside of you, making it more difficult to keep up his pace. As his thumb continued to rub tight circles along your clit, your back soon arched, seeing white.

You scream into the kiss, gripping him tight as you shiver and ride yourself through the euphoric high. Thoma clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to cum inside of you before he sank his cock out of you. Your cunt shivered, missing the presence of being full as he lifted himself up.

Tears pricked your eyes, lips swollen and glossy as your tired eyes looked toward him. He pumped his cock rapidly, hips bucking with every justle before pressing his tip against your open mouth.

“Swallow…every last drop for me please…” he begged. A loud whine escaped himself as he shut his eyes tight, cum shooting out once again. You did your best to swallow every inch of cum that escaped his cock. With a shaky sigh, he tapped his softening cock on your lips once more before lying beside you.

His arms wrapped around you tenderly, as your head leaned against his chest. He had a soft smile on his face, despite his eyes being closed. He was whispering soft praises in your ear.

He was acting like the Thoma, he was with everyone except you despite unknowingly breaking his heart once and bruising it a second time.

His softness was nice. You could imagine that tension when you two would arrive on Monday in the office would be completely gone. You knew he would volunteer to get you lunch like everyone else now. You knew he would offer to work late to help you out.

You knew he’d probably ask you on a real date. You knew he would put his all into making you smile. You knew that.

But you knew he deserved someone who didn’t play with his heart as much as you did.

Thoma walked out of the shower, smiling. He was much happier than usual, a part of him finally soothed and ready to formally move on. Perhaps this was a start to something he always wished to have.

He had gotten up earlier to wash and dry your clothes. He was excited to make breakfast for you too. It had been a while since he had a Western-style breakfast.

As Thoma emerged from the steamy bathroom, covering his lower half with his towel, his smile faltered noticing you weren’t in the bed. Just before he was going to go to the living room, he noticed your things were missing from the chair he set them out on. The clothes he had dried, the purse he found near his apartment door, your phone that fell when you two were kissing and making your way to his bedroom.

He felt his heart sink to his chest, but he wanted to stay positive. He never gave you his personal cellphone number. Maybe you messaged him on Slack with an explanation or something to quell his worries?

Nothing.

You had left without a trace. No goodbye. No closure. No nothing. 

It felt like he was a ghost all over again.

“Ha…” Thoma whispered out, tears welling in his eyes as he sat down on the bed silently to himself. Looking up in the mirror, all he could see was his 14-year-old self looking back at him with pity. He can’t help but laugh, finally laying down fully on the bed.

“...I’m still such an idiot.”

[gretavangroupie]

Transcendent - One

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 24.0k

Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, Smoking, Cursing, Mention and Use of Magic, Black Magic, Curses, Fire, Death in Fire, Anxiety, Arguing, Physical Violence, Fighting, Use of Weapons, Blood, Arranged Marriage, Unhappy Relationships, Sadness, Illness, Death, Use of Restraints. Smut: Heavy Pining, Kissing, Light Touching.

A/N: Surprise! @gretavanmoon and I are back with what has to be our favorite project yet. Without giving too much away, this will not be your traditional storyline. We've been dreaming on this one for a while and after a quick little break we are ready to get back to business. There will be no posting schedule with this story, taking it as it comes to give you the best story possible. But, it will be ongoing throughout this Fall and Winter season. As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting and reblogging. It means the world to us and truly keeps us going.

JAKE

I push the old wooden door open, the rusty handle leaving my hand feeling stiff and dirty. I swipe it against my canvas trousers, all the while knowing they are just as dirty as my hand is now. A hard day's work will do that to you. A hard day’s work is also how one finds themselves wandering into a bar at quittin’ time. I had to ask around to find one, the mason on the jobsite informing me of this place tucked away between two shops just a few blocks down the road from the job. There’s no sign out front, nothing that would ever reveal that it was a barroom. But as I open the door and step inside, the smell is what hits me first and I know I’ve found the right place. 

I make my way towards the bar attendant, the room warm from the kerosene lamps burning on the tables. It's dimly lit and the place seems to be full of laborers like myself. Everyone has just gotten off a job or is looking for work themselves. I keep my head low as I approach the attendant, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I don’t know who knows what around here, but the town is small and I know people talk. Especially in my line of work, ain’t nothing to do besides talk. 

“What’ll ya have,” the attendant asks. His lips are almost fully enveloped beneath his thick mustache as his eyes look me up and down. 

“A Lager, thanks,” I say, sticking my hand into my trouser pocket in search of coins.

“Outta the Lager, I can do a Porter,” he counters, reaching for a mug. “I seen you around here before?”

My eyes flick up to his, “No sir, don’t believe. Just here temporarily for work.” He seems perplexed by my answer, as if he doesn’t believe me.

He fills the mug with the ale as he continues, “What's ya trade?”

“Carpenter,” I answer quickly, “Boarding house goin’ up a few blocks away.”

“The St. Lemire job?” he asks, and again I nod.

He doesn’t say anything else, instead passing me the mug of ale with a grunt. He seems uneasy about my presence. For why I don’t know, but I don’t question it. I nod in thanks and pay him what he’s due, taking the mug of dark beer over to a table in the corner. The kerosene lamp is burnt out and the table is dark, but that’s almost better. I didn’t come here to make friends, I came here for a drink, and once it’s gone I’ll be on my way.

As I sit in the old wooden chair I begin to look around at the other patrons. They are gathered in groups of three or four, loud and boisterous as they drink away their troubles and a day's work. One man is passed out on the table top, his friends poking and prodding at his face with no reaction. Someone taps away on the old out-of-tune piano in the corner, playing a song that grits my nerves. 

A few women occupy the bar, but not the kind I mess with. These women are here for a reason. They know we have a little money in our pockets and they plan to get their hands on it in exchange for their time. This is not something I am particularly interested in, despite the urges that naturally invade my mind from time to time. Not that I don’t feel attracted to them, because trust me, I am. I just need more substance and a little depth in my women. To be able to have a conversation that doesn’t revolve around sex. Call me old fashioned, I suppose.

It is rare that I even find myself on this side of town, avoiding it and my brother Joshua at all costs for several years now.  However, the ad in the paper promised good pay in exchange for quality work, and if there is one thing about myself that you should know, it’s that everything I do, I do the right way. I knew they would be happy with my work and I was fully prepared to prove myself. 

It’s been two weeks that I’ve been working the job, arriving just after the foundation was set and the frame was ready to be built. I've done this hundreds of times now, maybe not this scale, but all buildings are built the same way more or less. Working with my hands is what I know. It’s what I’m good at. Just like my father before me. I spent most of the day today putting up walls on the second floor. The stairs took me longer than I anticipated, but I got it done. I always do. 

I take a long pull from my mug, letting the alcohol warm my blood and ease the tension in my neck. My shoulders are sore from hauling lumber upstairs all day, but I’ve felt worse so I can’t really complain. 

I’m about halfway through my beer when the door opening harshly grabs my attention. I knew it would only be a matter of time before he caught wind of my arrival into town, and I knew I wouldn’t be met kindly. Josh steps through the door, his eyes scanning through the tables until he finds me. His eyes narrow as he locks in, pushing chairs out of the way until he gets to me, positively seething and full of fiery fury. 

“Why’re you here?” he demands, slamming his fist on the table, rattling the glass of the dark kerosene lamp. 

I sit back in my chair, unaffected by his anger, much to his dismay. He always was all bark and no bite. He’d been that way since we were boys. 

“I’m here for work, I think you know that though, Joshua.”

“How long,” he seethes, a curl of hair falling to his forehead.

“Couple months, maybe, if all goes to plan,” I answer, my casual attitude only infuriating him further. 

“Don’t fuck with me, Jacob,” he grits out, leaning against the wooden table. His eyes are dark and still the mirror image of my own, though somehow his are different. As if he is completely detached from reality and no longer sees me as his own flesh and blood. 

“Won’t bother you if you don’t make no trouble for me,” I offer, hoping he will accept my suggestion. “I’ll finish this job and you won’t see me ‘round here anymore.”

He raises his eyebrows at me and ticks his jaw to the side as if he's considering my proposition. He then pushes off the table and heads towards the bar without a word. I let out a sigh and take a drink from my mug knowing that conversation could have gone a lot worse. Honestly I expected more after three years of silence. 

A few minutes later I see him slide into the seat across from me, slamming his own mug down on the rickety table. “Fuck,” I groan, suddenly realizing that the conversation is in fact not over. 

“Ya know, I thought about it, but what’s a drink between brothers…” he sneers, flashing a bit of a teeth through his snarl. 

My chest grows tight and my heart rate picks up, an uneasy feeling entering my body as his eyes size me up. I lick my lips and lift my mug towards his, tapping the glasses together. I raise my eyebrow, “Yeah, brothers.”

He takes a long pull from his mug, swallowing down the dark beer. “So, had any nice tail lately?” he asks, catching me off guard. He settles back in his chair, rocking back onto two legs as he waits for my reply.

I haven't spoken to him in three years and he wants to know about my sex life?

“The fuck do you care?” I spit, refusing to answer him. I know exactly where this conversation is going and I will not give him what he wants. 

Josh shrugs at my response, acting unaffected by my unwillingness to play his game. “Just thought maybe you could send some my way.”

I turn my attention to the ladies making the rounds and nod my head towards them, “Could take you home one of them,” I say, catching the attention of a woman behind me I didn’t know was there. 

“Fellas?” she grins, leaning against our table. 

Josh flashes her a smile and she smiles back. Of course. 

“Did I hear you two was looking for some company?” she asks, locking her eyes onto mine. 

I quickly pull my eyes away and look down at my beer, not wanting to answer her. 

“Could be,” Josh answers, deepening his voice. 

Her eyes begin to flick between the two of us and realization hits her. “You two brothers? You look mighty similar.”

“Twins, actually,” I correct, hoping to cure her curiosity.

“Twins, huh? Can’t say I’ve ever been with twins,” she says, pursing her plum colored lips. My eyes scan over her body, curvy in all the right places, with skin softer than anything I’ve touched in a long while, but I refuse to give into her temptation. 

Her hand reaches out and brushes over my forearm, sending a tingle through my body for what feels like the first time in a long time. She moves her fingers in circles over my sun tanned skin, not even caring about the sawdust still covering me. I swallow harshly as I try to will away the desire running through me. I don’t want her, but my body sure does. 

“I’ll tell you what,” she pauses, looking between Josh and I, “I’ll cut you a deal. I like the both of you, so I could do two for the price of one.”

“No–”

“A deal…” Josh ponders, interrupting my refusal. 

She moves to lean on me, pressing her chest into my face in an attempt to change my mind. I see a flicker of fury and jealousy returning to Josh’s eyes as she comes onto me, and I can tell he is about to lash out. 

He snaps his fingers, grabbing her attention, “You know sweetheart, come to think of it, there's no need for a deal. You can keep me company tonight. He will just end up fucking killing you, anyway,” he says, cutting his eyes at me.

Anger takes over my rational brain, and I shove my beer mug forcefully across the table, crashing into his chest and splashing the remnants all over him and the woman. 

“What the hell?!” Josh immediately stands, pushing her off of him as he bucks up at me, trying to gain the upperhand. I stand too, meeting his stature as I stare back at him in disgust. 

“You’re never going to let that go are you?” I shout, no doubt drawing attention to the both of us, just like I was trying to avoid. 

“This is why I ignore you, Josh! This is why I steer clear of this place, this whole damn town! There is nothing I can do or say to get through to you that her death wasn’t my fault!” I grit my teeth as I walk back to snatch my hat off the table. “You just needed me as a scapegoat for your bad choices. You’ve always been this way and you’ll never change!” 

I feel Josh’s hands as they push at my shoulders, sending me stumbling backwards into my chair and into the wall behind me. The pictures on the wall rattle above me, and I can hear the bar attendant starting to shout at us now. 

I know I shouldn’t fight him. I know I shouldn’t, but thanks to the alcohol my inhibitions are gone, and my hands are quickly flying up to defend myself against my own flesh and blood. My hands connect with his shoulders, shoving him away from me as the woman runs off to the other side of the bar, no longer interested in being Josh’s woman of the night. 

Josh grunts out a few profanities as he tries to swing at me, but as if anticipating his next move, I duck out of the way and take him down by the waist. Our scuffle makes its way to the sticky barroom floor, and before he can land a punch on me, we are being dragged out the side door and tossed into the alleyway by the barkeep. 

We both stand, dusting off our clothes of the stale beer and alleyway sludge, the smell putrid and unpleasant as it seeps into the canvas of my trousers. Josh is still cursing at me, gearing up for the next round no doubt. I take in my surroundings as quickly as I can, seeing a number of shady characters lining the dark, musty alleyway. Peddlers, more women, even a few rabble rousers. They seemed intrigued by us, all turning their attention our way as Josh connects a blow right to my face. 

I can hear the crack of my nose as his fist connects with it, blood instantly pouring down my face. He’s broken my nose more times than I can count. My eyes start to water, further obstructing my vision in the dark alley as I rear my arm back in order to return his punch. I connect with his jaw, knocking him back a few steps as he turns his head to spit blood. 

“You killed her! You fucking killed her just to get at me!” he shouts, his teeth red and stained with blood. 

“I didn’t!” I shout. “I told her not to follow me inside, and she didn’t fucking listen to me, Josh! She killed herself!”

“She wouldn’t do that!” he screams, a growl coloring his words. He charges at me, pinning me against the brick wall behind me. I could easily overpower him, but part of me understands his anger. This is his release and it’s been long overdue.

“I shouldn’t have trusted you. She would still be here. My Lizzy would still be with me!” he shouts in my face. I can feel the emotions flowing through him as if they were my own. That’s the funny thing about twins, we share everything. 

“I begged you not to go that night, Josh,” I counter, still remaining tightly in his grip. “I told you to go home to her. To stop gambling your savings away. It would have been you, yelling for her in that fire. I fought for my life trying to get to her! Do you get that? I fucking tried, Josh. I almost died in there trying to save her! It should have been you with her that night, not me!” 

It’s as if his own guilt finally comes to light. A tear streams from his eye as his anger boils over. A scream rips from his chest, primal and laced with rage as something heavy smashes against the side of my head, and my vision quickly fades to black. 

—

The air was already chilling, then, the leaves barely skittering across the ground when a breeze would come through. Joshua and I had met up at the crossroads on our walk home from work, me from the construction of a new bank in the square, and he from the metalsmiths shop.

“I don’t care what you do with her… just keep her entertained until my game is done…” he asked of me as he slipped his arms through his coat.

“It could be the wee hours of the morning by then, Josh, sit this one out for once. Go home to her tonight. You’re about to be wed, for Christ’s sake.” 

As of late, Josh had picked up a gambling habit, secretly tossing he and his fiance Elizabeth’s money away little by little.

He quirked a laugh as we trod down the street. “No see, I’ve got this one in the bag, I can feel it. I’m coming home with my pockets full tonight, brother. Fate is gonna be on my side.”

“Your pockets were empty before you started this nonsense, Josh. Don’t you think you should stop while you’re ahead? Before you lose it all…” I tried reasoning with him. If he wasn’t careful, there would be no money to pay for the wedding Lizzy wanted.

“Just keep her busy, eh? Don’t let her ask any questions…” he argued. “Talk your mind up to her with your wise words that you’re so agile with. I’ll be home before the sun comes up.”

“Fine. Fine!” I threw my hands into the air. “I’ll spend my hard-earned pay on a nice dinner with your fiance. A dinner that you should be enjoying with her. No. I don’t mind at all…” I yelled with sarcasm as we began separating and walking opposite ways.

“Thank you, Jacob. Really. I promise I’ll repay you!”

I scoffed. “You just better be glad she’s good company!”

And really, if Josh hadn’t met Lizzy before me, I might have thought of courting her, myself. She was a beautiful, intelligent woman with a knack for teaching children. She was easy-going, and came from a good family of hard-working people. She never gloated, and she was very easy to talk to, to get along with. Since she started dating my brother, we’d formed a tight kinship that was nothing more than good conversation and shared meals while Josh was “working”, and as of late, discussing wedding plans.

—

Lizzy and I were walking back to their house after a light dinner, arm in arm as the sun was dipping low in the sky. “You truly don’t have to escort me, Jacob, I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself while Joshua is caught up with work…” my heart ached as I realized the lie we were both telling her. That he was off doing his dealings instead of his “work”, ignoring the fact that she was home waiting for him while I sat in their study making sure she felt safe in her own home. 

“Of course you are, Lizzy, but I wouldn’t have ya eatin’ dinner alone and wandering the streets back home all by yourself. And neither would my brother. Not everyone is as kind-hearted as we are, y’know…” I raised my eyebrows and straightened my shoulders with faux-prestigiousness. 

“Stop with ya theatrics, you and Joshua both. A couple of dreamers, full of aplomb, the both of you,” Lizzy pushed her fingertips into my shoulder as she laughed, obviously a bit embarrassed by my gentlemanly actions. “But your kindness is appreciated.”

I reached into my pocket for my watch, noticing sunset was drawing nearer the further along we walked. Josh could either be finished soon, or he would be hours, still yet. Either way, I sucked in a tight breath and rolled my eyes at the thought of him losing last month’s wages in a bad hand, yet again. 

“Something wrong, Jacob?”

“No, I–” I was cut off by the smell of heavy smoke hitting my nose. I glanced West, seeing thick black clouds of smoke rising into the darkening sky just a few blocks away. “Fire.”

I quickly pulled my arm from Lizzy’s and dashed down the street, the sound of her heels hitting the brick pavers as she followed right behind me. I could feel my heart begin pounding with adrenaline as we rounded the corner, coming up on the chaos. It was Berwick’s Grocer, a two-story building with boarding rooms on the second level. Flames were shooting out of the windows and the front door, with twenty or so people already rushing around trying to stop the burn.

“Jacob!” Lizzy finally caught up to me, both of us out of breath and panting with fear. The heat from the building was already so intense that I could feel it heating my cheeks as we stood out in the street.

Just then Mrs. Berwick, the owner of the grocer ran up to the two of us, her hands grabbing at Lizzy’s. “Ms. Elizabeth…! He’s inside, he’s–he’s still in there!” she cried, her face contorted into a panic that told me the depth of her worry. 

“Who, who?!” Lizzy questioned, leaning into her and gripping her hands back in comfort. 

“My baby, my Benjamin! I couldn’t get to him!” she cried, nearly falling to her knees. “My husband is away, the fire happened so quickly, I–”

I watched as the scene became a blur, the helpless cries of people panicked in the streets, watching in horror as the smoke grew darker and darker in the sky. The flames broke through another window, shattering the glass out onto the street as it began to flash inside the building. Lizzy’s eyes met mine in question, both of us trying to decide what to do.

But I knew then, I had no choice. 

I quickly fastened my jacket as my feet carried me to the side of the building, searching for an alternate entrance inside. I didn’t have a plan, I didn’t have a damned clue about anything. All I knew was that I had to find that boy.

“Jacob, no!” I heard Lizzy cry from behind me. 

“Stay back, Liz! Do not follow me!” I spit over my shoulder.

I made entrance into the building from the side, the smoke thick and black but still untouched by heavy flames here. I began calling out for Benjamin, stepping carefully over the boxes of dry goods and storage as I maneuvered through the rooms. It was nearly impossible to see in the smoke, and I pulled my coat over my mouth and nose to shield myself from it. 

‘I built this building, I know its walls,’ I kept telling myself as I called for Ben over and over and over…

I blindly walked through the narrow halls, relying only on my faint memory of building its skeleton just a few years ago to guide me. Finally, after what felt like hours, I heard his voice calling back out. Small and faint, but there. 

I rushed to the sound of his voice, quickly finding him huddled in a corner. I scooped him up and ran right back toward the way I came, my lungs feeling as though they were full of heavy stones. I quickly removed my coat and covered him with it, telling him to keep his face covered as best he could. I kept him close and protected from the nearby flames, instead taking the licks myself as we passed by them. The child cried in my arms as he clutched on to me, terrified and gasping for air. 

“We’re almost there, Ben. Just hold on to me…” I told him. “It’s alright, just keep your face covered…we’re almost out…”

I saw the light of the door, dispensing him back on the floor and pushing him to run toward it. I heard loud crashes behind me, things falling from shelves and pieces of the ceiling breaking and collapsing. My eyes were blurring, and my skin felt as though it was on fire, itself. 

And then I heard Lizzy’s voice. 

Quiet and back from where I’d just come, she called out for me. 

“Liz! I told you not to follow me! Why are you–” I was cut off again by the sound of exploding tin cans, hundreds of pieces of metal falling onto the floor from a high shelf. I coughed hard as I tried to find her in the thick clouds and rubble.

“Jacob!” her voice screamed, curdled and guttural. That sound alone filled me with more terror than when I’d heard Benjamin.

“Lizzy, come toward my voice!” I yelled, the flames daring to lick more closely, now. My entire body was still full of adrenaline, but more so, fear. Why did she follow me in? Why didn’t she stay behind like I’d asked?!

“Jacob, I can’t breathe!” she screamed.

I felt tears flood my eyes as her voice sounded so graveled, the room around us popping and lurching and exploding as the walls heated and melted. An anchor beam had fallen across the floor, putting a giant burning barrier between the two of us. “Here Liz, here! Come to me!” I urged her, willing her to come to me instead of retreating to a corner where she thought she may be able to hide from the flames. 

I was met with silence. 

“Liz! Liz, can you hear me?!” I coughed, my tongue so dry and my eyes so heavy. “Elizabeth!!!”

No. Not like this. 

I felt my mind begin to leave me, my breaths short and shallow as my body fought for fresh air. I had to turn around, I had no other choice… but Liz…

I stood for as long as I could, wandered around in the darkness, still yelling her name as each breath I took filled my lungs with more of the chalky smoke. I knew that if I stayed any longer, I would surely die of smoke inhalation.

I had no control over my body any longer. It had gone into survival mode on its own, and my legs carried me backwards toward the door, away from the flames, away from the smoke, away from the sound of her voice.

Why, Lizzy?!

I fell backwards out the door, my feet stumbling over one another as strangers’ hands gripped my shoulders and arms and pulled me away from the burning building. My limp body was drug away, and cold water was poured onto my face and limbs. I was coughing, strangling for breath as people surrounded me on the ground and tried to keep me alert and alive. 

I went into a state of shock as my body convulsed, ridding itself of the nerves and fearful adrenaline that had kept me alive for the past few minutes. 

“You saved him, Jacob! My Ben!” I heard the faint sound of Mrs. Berwick’s voice from a crowd behind me. “Thank you, thank you!”

The next few seconds were a flurry of more pulling on my limbs, more cold rags to my face, more shedding of my charred boots and clothing. I could smell the scent of my own burnt skin, and the pain of what was sure to be scarred reminders of this day tattooed on my body for the rest of my life. 

Where is Liz…

I could hear the echo of her voice still in the back of my mind, like a screeching siren begging me to come back and find her. And I knew right then that the sound of her voice would haunt my dreams for all of my years to come. How did this happen? Why did she come inside?

And then when I thought my mind couldn’t get any darker, I felt the familiar hands of my twin rest on my shaking shoulders.

“Jake, Jacob, are you alright? Where is she?! Where is Lizzy?” He helped me move to stand, his eyes devoid of anything other than fearful hope. 

“I–I don’t–”

I could hardly move my lips enough to form words. My tongue was sandpaper, my voice like hot embers sitting in my throat. 

All I could do was stare into the fire, the interior of the building now caving in on itself. People rushed us, pushed us aside and trampled us as they carried buckets of water to try and extinguish the flames. 

“Jacob! Where is Elizabeth!” he demanded, moving to stand in my line of sight. But I couldn’t look at him, I could barely even hear him, the world around me sounding as if I were locked in a glass room. Noises reverberating as I struggled to take a deep breath, struggled to think, struggled to even keep my balance on my feet. Why did she follow me?

All I could do was shake my head. Gently, from side to side as my eyes shot back and forth between the burning building and my mirror image, his face sullen and lips already downshot as he let the news consume him. 

“No. No! She couldn’t, she wouldn’t have– why was she…?” he began to pace, stomping his boots into the ground as hoards of people pushed past us. I became dizzy again, everything overwhelming me as I fought to believe it all, as well. Nothing made sense… just minutes ago we were arm-in-arm making our way back home. Minutes. And now…

I watched as my brother fell to his knees, uncaring of the dirt covering up his already filthy slacks. His head fell into his hands, his fingertips gripping into his curls as he screamed, cried, punched his fists into the ground beside him. My mind willed me to console him, but my body didn’t allow me to move. I was stuck in time and space, unable to do anything but stand there and breathe. Blink. Exist.

My back was to the building now as I noticed darkness had completely fallen. One step I took toward him, and then another, before my already weakened knees buckled, falling to his side as my lungs burned with the feeling of a hundred different kinds of rage. I let my weak arm drape over his shoulders as I fought for my own breath, feeling him shudder beneath it. The pain on the skin of my side was nearly unbearable, now. 

“You–” Josh muttered as he finally looked up to meet my eyes. “This is your fault…” he growled, his jaw clenched. “You’re the reason she’s dead, you’re the reason she burnt up in there…” 

“Wha–Josh, I tried to…” I could hardly push the words from my mouth, my body already shutting down on me. 

“Fuck you!” he yelled, pushing me over onto the dirt. I wretched out in pain as the skin on my side felt like white hot burning fire, worse than the flames that danced around my face just moments ago. “She’s gone! And you were supposed to be watching out for her! It’s your fault! She’d stil–” He couldn’t finish as his rage overtook him again, laying himself into me with weak punches to my face and chest. He was crying through it all, but I could tell he was serious. He truly thought it was my fault. 

And in my clouded thoughts… was it?

I couldn’t even fight back. All I could do was raise my arms over my face to defend the blows. Even in my wildest dreams, I could have never imagined this was how my night would have gone. Blow after weak, shoddy blow he delivered to my face, and I let him. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe I should have just gone in further after her.

Maybe I should have died in there, too. 

Finally I felt the weight of him come off of me, seeing that two men had pulled him away and tossed him to the side. Through my burning and bloodshot eyes, I watched as he rolled on the ground, turning to sit and face the scene as his bloodied hands covered his face. He wept, his eyes boring into me with more hatred and sadness than I’d ever witnessed on his face. My mind was racing and blacking out at the same time. 

She’s gone, she’s gone. 

In the blink of an eye, and we aren’t getting her back. 

There my brother and I sat as we watched the chaos surround us, and it was only then I noticed all of the money surrounding us lying all over the ground. Coins and bills scattered in the dirt, ripped in half from our scuffle. He’d won his fucking hand. 

And, for what? A night of revelry lost with the love of his life, gambling on the savings they both had worked so hard to collect. He could have had that, with her, tonight. 

But, had he not gone and had I not escorted Lizzy for the evening, Benjamin may have surely met his bitter end. What’s more, the loss of a life at the brink of a new beginning, or the deliverance of an innocent child back into the arms of his mother?

Why must one fate have the other to exist?

Surely, my own redemption means nothing in this grand scheme. I was just at the right place at the right time. 

One more deep inhale of the smoke was the last thing I remembered before I let the exhaustion overtake me, closing my eyes as my body fell limp to the ground. 

—

1860

The smoke.

It wakes me now, except its scent isn’t the same as it was in my dream. The memory of my own burning skin and charring wood is replaced with the scent of a balmy, earthy smell… a little sweet and a little spicy, as if seasonings and herbs were being boiled to cleanse the air. 

I slowly open my eyes, afraid to get my bearings as I remember why I passed out in the first place. Joshua had hit me hard over the head with something in the alleyway of the bar. The flashback memory had confused me a bit, having to relive one of the worst days of my life in the fire, but then again I dream it all the time. I’m used to the nightmare replaying the night my brother’s fiance died at the fault of my own.

Joshua and I had gotten into another argument. But this time, he’d used more violence than he ever had, by knocking me completely out and bringing me… here, wherever here is. I’m lying on a wooden floor, and the room is lit with candles. My body is sore, but I can move. Everything is unfamiliar, and I’m positive I’ve never been here before. The air is humid and thick, and I think we must be close to water, but I know that is a long way from where we were.

I can hear mumbling from behind me… Joshua’s voice mixed in with another, a female. Her voice is unfamiliar too, so we must be at her dwelling. Where on earth did he bring me? I don’t trust him, I haven’t trusted him since the day of the fire, when he completely blamed the loss of his love on me. For a while, I accepted the blame, feeling a guilt so heavy in my state of depression that I believed it, too. But after some time and some reflecting, I realized there was nothing I could have done that night. She entered the building on her own, she became lost inside after I had warned her against it, and tried as I might, I simply could not save her without in turn losing my own life in the process. 

It was a truly horrific chain of unfortunate events. 

I can’t make out their conversation as they’re being hush, and my head is absolutely throbbing from the mix of the alcohol and whatever the hell Josh hit me over the head with. The blood from my nose is dried on my face, my eyes finally stopped watering, though everything is blurry and distorted as I try and listen harder.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” I hear Josh ask the stranger. 

“Do you doubt me, child?” the female challenges. 

“No, no. Of course I don’t. I just want to make sure this is going to go as smoothly as possible, and I won’t have to bother you again…”

What is going on?

I stir on the floor, moving my limbs as I try to sit up and understand. But Josh pushes me back down, before lifting me to sit in a chair. I can’t fight him, I’m too weak. 

“Tie him down,” I hear the stranger demand of Josh. What?

“No no, please,” I beg as I feel my hands being bound behind me. I begin kicking and fighting as best I can, pulling out every last bit of energy I have. 

“Stay still, Jacob, this will go a lot more smoothly if you just stop moving,” Josh bites with madness in his voice, tying a tight knot around my wrists. With the new feeling of the pain in my arms, my head clears up a bit, and I can see who the stranger in the room is. 

She’s a short woman, dark complected with dark gray hair hanging well below her waist. She’s dressed in what looks to be rags, but they’re colorful… Her head is wrapped in the same material, and dozens of gold and silver chains hang from her neck. Her hands, tattooed and adorned with rings and stones rub over one another as her deep black eyes watch Josh tie me to the chair. 

“Who are you? Where are we?” I ask, my voice now sounding more clear as I come off of the liquor. 

“Shh,” Josh spits in my ear as he ties my feet. 

“You’re in my home, child, no more questions,” she says. I hear wind chimes clinging in the distance as the crow of a bird screeches from a high corner. The candles flicker, almost as if the sound of her voice awakens them. The smell of the burning incense hits my nose again, turning my stomach.

“Why am I here? Let me go!” I fight, trying to free myself, but only learn that his knots are pulled tight. He laughs at my poor attempt. 

“Silence him,” she demands, and another wind blows through the rickety walls of the shack. I hear what sounds like shells clanking and sand falling, and the frogs in the bayou waters outside seem to sing a little louder.

Josh leans down to eye-level with me, and I swear I could spit in his face, if my morals didn’t hold me back. “You heard her, quiet. Not another word, or else we can use more force, if you want us to,” he shows his teeth in a pitiful attempt at a smile, but the light in his eyes left a long, long time ago. 

I scowl at him, cutting my losses as I become more nervous for the reason I am actually here. 

“I’m having a curse placed upon you, Jake,” Josh says as he stands back up. “With the help of my new friend here, Seraphine.” A wild whip of air blows through the home again, making my hair fall in front of my face. Fear settles in my belly at his words, and the darkness in the stranger’s eyes seems to become alight, just for a second as she watches us from her seat in the corner. 

I’ve heard about this magic, a cursed and fearsome magic whose practice dates back generations. It’s dark, and it's harrowing. A divination done correctly can change a man’s life for better or for worse, and from the stories I’ve heard told, it is best to steer clear unless you want your life changed forever. 

“You took the love of my life away from me, so it’s only fair if I subject you to a life of similar fate.” Josh projects as he begins pacing the room, his jaw clenched as he speaks. 

“No–” I contest.

Josh’s hands are suddenly on the arms of the chair I’m tied to, his face within inches of mine as he growls at me once more. “I said silence!”

The two of us stare at one another for what seems like minutes, challenging, gritting, both of us shifting our anger back and forth in the thin air that lies between us. “You took everything from me… all of it, and you’re going to learn exactly what that feels like…”

He stands back up, straightening his coat as he clasps his hands together behind him. I feel the sweat beginning to pool on my forehead as my anxiety settles in. 

“You’ll live out your years with no bounds, no end in sight. While everyone around you, everyone that you love ages naturally and grows old, you’ll stay this age forever. Everyone around you will meet the sweet taste of death, while you sit and watch it happen, over and over and over as you stay trapped here, at this very point in your life,” Josh says. “You’ll forever know what it feels like to crave death, wishing daily for it to take you away from this place just as I do, but you’ll never get to achieve it. You’ll watch everyone around you fall from grace and meet God himself, while you must sit with your sins and be a hostage of the Earth for the rest of eternity.”

I feel all the blood drain from my body as I realize he’s wishing, imposing this fate upon me at the hand of black magic. “Revenge,” I whisper. 

He nods, a sick smile gracing his lips. “Precisely, my brother.”

“How fucking could you?!” I snap a whisper at him, baring my teeth as if I could rip him apart with them.

He howls a long laugh, looking at Seraphine for validation. “How could I? How could you? You’re nothing but a sorry son of a bitch, and now you’re going to get every bit of what you deserve. My sweet Lizzy will have her justice.”

My head spins. “Justice?! Joshua, if I could tell you a hundred more times that her fate wasn’t by my hand, I wou–”

“His blood, Joshua!” Seraphine’s voice trembles across the air, loud and boisterous as the walls shake, the wind it causes nearly blowing every flamed candle out. My ears ring at the sound of it, and for a split second I see evidence of the tiniest bit of fear flash across Josh’s face, but he quickly qualms it. “I haven’t the time for any more arguments!”

Josh rips his knife from his side, opening the blade and slicing the rope that binds my wrists behind me. He grabs a glass vial that’s sitting on the table beside us, already half full of some kind of mix of herbs. Also on the table is a silver platter, a green stone, a bit of hair, and a few other odds and ends that I can’t make out before he raises my hand, slicing the skin of my palm until I feel blood dripping from it. I scream out in surprised pain as he collects the blood in the vial, capping it quickly and setting it back in the center of the silver platter. I get a head rush from the pain, and he ties my wrists behind me again. My eyes grow heavy as I hear words of accolades from Seraphine. 

“Good, Joshua, good…”

I feel like I’m about to pass out again as I feel more wind blow across my face, and a new smell drifts across my nostrils. There’s almost a sound of music in the air, but it doesn’t carry a melody, nor does it have a tune. It’s a blend of a thousand instruments that have no weight to them at all, but more so just noise and racket. I hear whispers in my ears as if ten people are standing next to me and in front of me, all speaking a different language from the one next to it. I’m dizzy, I’m confused, and I feel as if I could vomit, but what I feel the most is the scar on my side from the fire all those years ago. The skin is blazing, shocks running through it as if it were being burned all over again. 

I hear Seraphine’s voice, deep and gritty as she begins to recite an incantation. 

“By this blood the spell is cast, to weave your fate through ages vast. In realms of shadow, dark and deep, where time’s eternal echoes sleep.”

“With ancient might and words of old, your endless journey shall unfold. Through ages long and tales profound, in endless life, you shall be bound.”

“Forevermore, through realms of light, in days of dark and endless night. In time’s embrace your soul shall roam, a drifter in the vast unknown.”

Her hands are suddenly on my head, pressing down into my skull as if her life depended on it. My breathing begins to pick up, and I feel myself lose all control of my muscles. An energy flows through my system and all I can see in my mind are Seraphine’s eyes, hollow and black as she laughs at me, taunting me. 

This is it, I have met my fate, and there is nothing I can do about it. All at the hands of my brother, the one I entered this world with. My flesh and blood. He’s now taken measures so horrific so as to take away my entire future. Or give me more of it, I suppose. I’ll never love the same way again, knowing that I will be burdened with watching the end of it like the last petal falling from a late summer bloom. Nothing will be the same. Nothing will feel the same. I hope his revenge tastes sweet, because cursing me by the hand of black magic may end his life in such a way that he, too, did not see coming.

—

One Month Later

I’m lodged between two pieces of lumber, holding myself upright at the apex of a gable as I drive the last nail into the board. My fellow crewmen and I have been working tirelessly on this boarding house for over a month now, and finally we are seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. 

“Drink, Jacob?” I’m offered a canteen by my friend John, of which I graciously accept. I look out over the land, the early Autumn air barely peeking through the still-harsh sunlight. I’m a man of few words these days, ever since that night my brother kidnapped me and took me to that woman’s shack. I haven’t been the same since. My mind tends to drift, and I find myself finding new things to dwell over… things that I hadn’t thought of before, now that I am apparently unable to age. 

I’d woken up that next morning in a nearby grove of trees a little ways from where Seraphine’s home was. Josh was nowhere to be found, I knew he wouldn’t show his face again. Not after that. He knew I would probably kill him. 

I felt the same, yet different. It’s hard to explain, and it could be all in my head. And I’m yet to know if the curse even worked. I won’t even know until a few years from now, if I start to see wrinkles on my own skin. 

I don’t know how to think anymore. I don’t know how to live my day to day life. Things seem so uniform and monotonous, and I hope that the rest of my life won’t find me dwelling this way.

“Everything well with you, mate? You’ve seemed a bit off here lately,” John asks as we take a second to wipe the sweat from our brows as we perch on the unfinished high roof of the building. 

I shrug. “Guess so, just feelin’ a bit down, y’know.”

“Season is about to change, you following the next job when we finish here?” he asks, taking another swig from the canteen. 

“If life allows it,” I reply, still feeling so unsure about any and everything. Just then, my eye is caught by someone walking the grounds down below, a woman dressed in a white dress and hat, carrying a parasol over her shoulder as she wanders with another woman. I can hardly see her face from up here, but just from the way she carries herself, I can tell that she is beautiful. “Who is that?” I ask him.

His eyes follow mine. “Oh, that’s Ms. Y/N, the daughter of Mr. St. Lemire. Quite the pretty one, I say.” I see the sunlight catch her face as she cranes her neck up to see us, and just as I suspected, her beauty nearly makes me fall straight onto the unfinished floor of this boarding house. “Lives under her father’s thumb though, so I’ve heard.”

I realize then that I haven’t taken a breath since the second I saw her. My chest tightens, and I finally inhale. “Is that so,” is all I manage. 

“Mmhm. Fellow that started the job with us tried to ask her name once, offer her an escort to get shade under a tree, he was fired the next day,” John explains, drawing my attention away from her. 

“Is that true?” I ask, my interest suddenly piqued. 

“Sure as hell is. Off limits. A damned shame, too. She’s shinier than a new penny.”

I feel myself become suddenly intrigued with the thought of me trying to escort her to get shade under a tree. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the soft touch of a woman. But the other man was fired for even speaking to her, and I need this job, I need this pay. Maybe I can find another way. Lord knows at this point, I have little left to lose.

—

Days pass, and Ms. St. Lemire still graces us with her presence at the construction site almost daily. I don’t know why she does, she has little to no use being here, except distracting the lot of us from doing our jobs. I keep to myself though, as the wandering eyes of the others follow her every move each day she visits. Some days she’s with her father, some days she’s with a few other ladies, but she has yet to be by herself. My friend must have been right about her living under her father’s thumb. 

The workday was about to end one Friday afternoon, and Ms. Y/N had been waltzing around the property with another woman while we cleaned up our tools and wasted nails from the site. I hid my wandering eyes underneath the brim of my hat, only peeking from under it every so often so as to catch glimpses of her. I wouldn’t swear to it, but on occasion I think she may have been looking, too. But I’d never acknowledge it. 

“Evenin’, Ms. St. Lemire, care to indulge with me down at the pub after supper?” I heard one of the men from the sawmill speak from across the lawn. He must not have heard about the other man being fired.

“Oh, no, thank you, I don’t imbibe,” I heard her voice for the very first time, soft but a bit more rugged than I had imagined. He hair fell in a long thick braid down her back, a cream colored ribbon fastened at the end.

“Now,” the man pressed, “not even wine?”

She shook her head as I continued to work, stealing a glance every few seconds. “No. Only on holidays,” she replied, looking to her friend as they both share a giggle. 

“Is every day not a holiday that God has given us, ma’am?” he goes on, obviously pressing more after she had sternly declined. 

“Sure, but not every day is worth celebrating with libation. Good day,” she bites, offering him a nod as she begins to walk away. 

“Oh, come on, let a man show you a good time!” he demands as he catches her, his hand on her waist as she turns, leaving what looked to be a fairly dark mark of dirt and sawdust all over the back of her light blue dress. 

I stand. She turns quickly, ripping her dress from his grasp while her other white-gloved hand slaps him right across the face. The crew erupts with gasps and surprised laughter. “Do not ever touch me again, and do not ever insist upon a lady after she has clearly said no,” she barks, her finger in his face.

I think I just fell in love.

My eyes are bulging from my head, just the same as everyone else on the job, all of us unable to speak after witnessing that spectacle. My Lord, am I impressed.

Her friend pulls her by the hand back toward their horse and carriage as our foreman comes charging toward the group that had gathered. 

“What in the hell is going on here?!” he asks, and we all stay silent. “Someone give me a god damned answer or there will be no break for lunch all next week…”

One man clears his throat and averts his eyes toward the man in question, and I watch as the foreman goes toward him, ready to question the entire scene. Before he does, though, he notices the group’s silence. “Back to work, all of you! Still an hour’s worth of the job to finish! Go!” I make myself look busy until I hear his voice again. 

“Jacob! Attend to Ms. St. Lemire at her carriage, her coachman has gone to relieve himself in the woods. Water the horses,” he demands, and given the state of his rage, I know better than to attest to that. 

I take off walking behind Ms. St. Lemire and her friend, barely keeping up as they are walking rather quickly toward the carriage. I can see the fire raging through her as she walks; no longer is she carrying herself with the same grace she usually holds. She’s mad, and she’s embarrassed.

Her friend steps up into the carriage first, and offers Y/N her hand for help just as I reach them. She steps on the edge, and her shoe slips off the ledge, making her stumble and nearly fall backwards. “Whoa, ma’am, careful,” I say as I catch her back on my shoulder and arm. She squeals out of surprise and tries to steady herself, her hand slipping out of her friend’s. I help her to get her footing on the ground as she turns to look at me, her bodyweight going limp for a fraction of a second as she finally stands up on her own again. I raise my eyebrows in question as her eyes meet mine, sparkling in the late evening sun. “Are you alright?” I ask. 

She clears her throat. “Yes, um, fine, fine, thank you–” she stands, taking her friend’s hand again and successfully stepping up into the carriage. I nod, making my way to the front of the carriage to tend to the horses. I take a few steps to the side of the road where the water supply is, fetching a metal bucket and pumping water into it. I try not to pay attention, but I can’t help but notice Ms. Y/N and her friend quietly whispering to one another while avoiding my eyes. I keep myself busy letting the horses drink, petting them and speaking quietly to them. I can still feel the feeling of her rested on my shoulder, and the smell of her light perfume still dances across my nose.

“Sir,” she speaks up, catching my attention. 

“Yes Ma’am?” I answer, coming out from my hiding spot behind the horses.

“I just wanted to thank you for breaking my fall,” she says, her friend snickering behind her shoulder. “I surely would have landed in the dirt, and ruined my dress, hadn’t you caught me,” she smirks. 

I feel a wave of confidence and anxiousness roll over me at the fact that she’s speaking to me. Thanking me, when all I had done for weeks now was admire her from afar. 

“Not a problem, Ma’am, though I think George over there might have actually left his stained handprint on your dress…” I say. “May have gotten dirty, anyway.”

She turns and pulls the skirt of her dress to the side as they both inspect it. She clicks her tongue as she sees the dark black dusty stain. “Ah, no matter. Nothing a quick wash can’t fix,” she says with a quipped smile. She clasps her hands back in her lap. 

The two of us stare at one another for a beat, unsure of what to say next. 

“I um, I’m sorry he… that he was so insistent with you just then, men can truly be dastardly,” I say, pulling my rag from my back pocket to wipe my hands free of any more sawdust.

She laughs. “That they can,” she smiles, extending her hand out in front of her for me to shake. “Y/N, pleasure to meet you Mr…”

I brush my hand across my shirt for one last attempt at ridding myself of dirt. “Jacob, pleasure is mine, Ma’am.” Her hand isn’t as gentle as I’d imagined. Her handshake is steady and forceful, and her eyes lock on mine as she repeats my name back to me. The sound of that, god, I’ll be replaying in my head for weeks. 

“You’re um, you’re the daughter of the boss man, I hear?” I try to break the silence that had fallen as her hand drops from mine. 

“I am. Unfortunately,” she quips, earning another chuckle from her friend. 

I’m taken aback. “Ma’am?” 

She lets out a loud sigh. “Oh, being the daughter of a very wealthy and very religious man has its perks, I suppose, but there’s nothing like the realization that I won’t ever get to make my own decisions or live my own life, you know?”

At first, I’m astounded by her sudden willingness to share something this personal with a stranger, but her personality seems to reflect that she doesn’t even really care who knows it. 

“I’m sure it could be… trying, at times,” I try and understand, running my hand along the belly of the horse.

“Trying isn’t the word, Jacob. Far from it,” she clicks her tongue again as her gaze diverts back to the work site. “It’s a miracle he lets me take my afternoon outings to come here, let alone that he allows me out of the house at all.”

“Ah,” I say, nodding slowly. 

“You aren’t one of those dastardly men you mentioned, are you?” she asks, cocking her head. 

I bite my lips in, surprised at her forwardness again. “No, no ma’am. I don’t like to think I am, at least.” 

“I don’t believe you are, either,” she replies, and I walk closer to the carriage. 

“And how could you be so sure?” I press, cocking an eyebrow as I let my elbows rest on the side of the carriage. 

“You’ve been nothing but a gentleman yet. Called me nothing but Ma’am even after I told you my name. Apologized on another man’s behalf, and… you care for my horses,” she says, smiling a sweet, coy smile that nearly knocks me to my knees. I’m left speechless, and I can feel my cheeks burning with shyness. 

Instead, I bring my hand back up to the horse. “I was raised with them.”

“Admirable. So you must know them well.”

“A bit, my father kept a barn when I was a boy, taught me how to care for them,” I reply.

“Hm,” she says, averting her eyes to the coachman returning back from his escape to the woods. “We’ve got a pregnant mare back at home, our first experience with one. Maybe you could assist us when her time comes? Should be within the next week…” she proposes, refastening the satin ribbon at the end of her braid. 

“I could, perhaps. If your father and the foreman allowed me a day from work,” I say, knowing that I have plenty of experience in that department. 

“I’ll arrange it,” she says as the coachman takes his place. “Father will be sure to accept the help. Especially from someone who already works for him.” She raises her hand to wave just as the carriage takes off. “Nice to meet you, Jacob.”

I raise my hand as well, watching as the dirt kicks up behind the wheels. “Likewise, Ms. Y/N.”

—

Day and night, I think of her. She’s infiltrated my dreams, the sound of her voice still playing like a song in the back of my mind. We’ve only spoken once, that day she slapped George, but it seems as though that’s all the time I needed to know that she already holds a very special place in my heart. It isn’t often that I let a woman in like that, hell, I’ve only ever had one serious relationship my whole life, and it was when I was fifteen and thought I was in love. That feeling gave me an inkling though, all those years ago, of what love may actually be. And though we grew up and went our separate ways, I’ve still searched high and low for that longing feeling that I had in my chest. 

And I felt it that day when Ms. St. Lemire fell off of her carriage and into my arms. 

I can’t explain it. I’m almost embarrassed to admit the amount of space she takes up in my thoughts. I’ve nearly forgotten the fact that my brother laid a curse upon me. My thoughts are taken up by something else, now. A distraction from the fact that my fate is sealed. Her face is the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. I find myself wondering how her lips would feel pressed to mine, how her skin would feel under my rugged touch. How her voice would sound saying my name over and over…

But no. There’s no way a woman like her would ever find interest in a scoundrel like myself. I’m too lowly for her liking, surely. And the fact that her father would probably never let me near her enough to even say hello. No. Surely her life is already planned for her, her husband probably already chosen to keep the family fortune alive long after Mr. St. Lemire’s death. I have no hope, but still yet, I let my mind pretend it exists. 

—

I’m drying my hands off after I’ve cleaned them thoroughly, watching as Y/N sits in the hay with her back against the barn wall. She’s admiring the brand new foal as we give them space, watching intently as it nurses on its mother.

“That was… quite the experience, Jacob,” she mutters through a tired smile, the toes of her riding boots knocking together. “Not sure she would have made it had you not come to her rescue.”

“Oh, she would have been fine,” I say. “Your hands here had it covered,” referencing the other three men who helped to run the barn. 

“I’m not so sure,” she says. “I’m just glad we went and fetched you when we did.” Her hair is a mess and tangled all over her face, her clothing covered in hay and mud from our very eventful afternoon. A carriage had rolled through the construction site midmorning, the coachman yelling for me. He’d announced that the horse was in labor and having a difficult time, so I hopped in and we were at the barn within half an hour. I’d never tell her, but I was glad they got me when they did, too, or else we may have been burying the poor things. 

“Will you stay for supper, Jacob?” she finally speaks again after I’ve taken the spot on the ground across the stall from her. 

“Oh no, I couldn’t, thank you. I’ve got a long walk home, and sunrise comes early,” I say, fighting a yawn. I pull my knife from my side and begin peeling at the grime that is caked under my fingernails. 

“You live to work, don’t you?” she asks gently. “You truly love it?”

I nod. “I do, I’ve always loved to build. Work with my hands, my father and I built a barn about this size when I was a child. He taught me everything I know about laborin’.” I left out the part that Josh helped, too, not wanting her to delve into that detail of my life.

“Well he taught you well,” she says through that sweet smile. I swear that I could sit here and talk with her about absolutely nothing for days on end. 

“Thank you, Ma’am. So… why do you frequent our job site so often, if you don’t mind me asking?” I have wanted to ask her this question for a while, but was unsure about it. 

She takes a deep breath. “My Father wants it to be mine when it’s completed. Wants me to have a sense of purpose, running the boarding house. My husband and I, that is.”

There it is. 

My chest clenches. “Oh,” I reply. “I was unaware of your status, I apologize.” I shut my knife back up, and begin to stand. 

“Oh, no, it’s–” her eyes drag longingly to mine, and I cock my head in question. I shouldn’t stay here any longer if she is already spoken for. My job here is done. 

“He’s away, he travels with my father a lot for work, for business…” she says, her voice fallen. “I–I’ve only ever met him a handful of times, actually.”

I slowly sit back down. “...You’ve only met him a few times? And you’re to marry him?” 

She nods, her face contorting as she breathes in a chopped breath. I stay quiet, quite unsure what to ask next. 

“It’s been the plan since I was a young girl, marry a man within the church, devote my life to him and our work, have his children, and that’s that,” she says tilting her head to the side as she avoids my eyes. 

“...And that’s that.”

“I’m– I don’t believe that that is how I want my life to go, Jacob,” she admits, biting her lip. I’m surprised again at her forwardness. 

“Isn’t it?” I ask. “Why is that?”

Finally she does look at me. “Because he is fourteen years my senior.” There can’t be much difference in age between the two of us, maybe a year or two either way. I’d ask if she is twenty-five as well, but I figure it rude to ask a lady her age. 

I sigh. “That’s a bit of time,” I reply, trying to sound neutral.

“It is. It’s way too much time. I know it seems a normal gap when it comes to marriages but, not for me. That isn’t what I want. Especially not with…” she stops herself, sitting up straighter against the barn wall. “Anyway. It must be nearing time for me to return home.” She stands suddenly, and I follow suit. She extends her hand out to me again. “Thank you, Jacob, for all of your help today.”

I clear my throat. “Anytime, Ma’am, please just let me know if there is anything else I can do to help,” I offer, giving her hand a little extra squeeze as I grip it in mine. Just like lightning bolts.

I watch as her chest turns red. “I will, we will. And please, call me Y/N. See you next time.”

She pulls her hair back from her face as she gives me one last look as we part ways in front of the barn, and I head toward home.

—

Two days pass with only a few sightings of Y/N, and nothing more than passing glances and head nods come from either of us. I chalk it up to her not wanting someone to see us interacting, then reporting back to her father. I trust it, but it still feels as though she seeks me out. Watches me until I notice her so that she can offer me a smile. If only she knew that my days wouldn’t be the same without them, anymore.

That next morning, though, the coachman had come to collect me from the site again, informing me that the foal had begun to exhibit signs of distress in the late hours last night. Again we travel the half hour to the homestead and I gently approach the stable where we had left them before. The stable was clean and bright. I could tell there were several people attending to it at all times. Every tool and piece of equipment you could ever need was in that barn, and I felt envious that I was not raised with such fineries. A small brown paddle boat leans against the side of the barn, a paddle resting against the wall in the morning sun. I step into the barn and there I see an exhausted Y/N leaned against the stable door, her chin in the crook of her elbows, watching on as the mare tends to her baby. 

“What’s wrong?” I ask, startling her. 

“Oh, Jacob,” she perks up. “The foal, he is acting strange. Will hardly nurse, he’s been rolling around…” 

I quickly walk into the stall, greeting both animals. “Has he defecated?”

“Very little, but yes,” she answers, following me in. I squat and run my hand along the foal’s belly, racking my brain as I think back on all that my father had taught me about colic. 

“How many times an hour does he nurse?” I ask. 

She runs her hand over her face, obviously very worried. “Two, maybe three?”

“He may be a bit dehydrated. He needs to nurse seven, maybe eight times an hour.” I take a wet rag from a bucket and clean the mother’s underside as best I can, then try and assist the foal in trying to suckle again. “Sometimes their feedings need supplemented, and he may, but try and just make sure he is eating often, for a few minutes each time,” I instruct. I know that the animals will require care and monitoring through the day and into the evening, so I tell her that. 

“I’ll send someone to tell the Foreman that you need to stay here, with me, and help…” she says, still a mess as she worries herself to death. “I’m sure they can all handle the worksite without you, today.”

“Lots of trust you put in those men, Ma’am,” I joke as I grab a brush and run it along the mare’s back.

“I told you to call me Y/N, Jacob,” she jests, coming to join me at the mare’s side. She’s dangerously close to me, closer than she has been since she stumbled back onto me that day. My heart rate rises, hearing our names said together.

I hand her the brush. “I know you did, but I still feel it to be improper. I would only call my friends by their first names,” I say lowly as she begins brushing the horse at an odd angle.

Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second. “Friends,” she mumbles. “Wouldn’t you think of us as… that? As friends...”

I swallow my pride as her eyes bore into mine. I gently place my hand overtop of hers, guiding her hand in a more comfortable way to brush. “I’d like to be considered as such,” I reply, my hand gripping overtop of hers more sternly, now. I can’t help myself.

I watch as she swallows, too, my hand guiding hers. “Then it’s considered,” she breathes, moving her face just a little closer to mine. I can hear my heart in my ears, my palm sweating where it touches her hand. “I’ll not answer to ma’am again,” she whispers, her eyes flitting from my eyes to my lips. 

I’m fighting everything within me not to kiss her, not to give in to her proximity and finally feel the closeness I’ve been craving so desperately. But I push through it. The woman is betrothed. 

Our faces are nearly touching, only inches of thick air separate us. I can hardly breathe, let alone think. But I must speak…

“As you wish, Y/N,” I say gently, her name tasting like sweet summer honey on my tongue. I can feel her breath on my lips, all of my nerve endings on fire as she breathes in the way I said her name. The brush falls onto the ground but our hands stay clasped as she turns to me fully, and I grip her hand tighter, pulling her into me. She takes my opposite hand and holds it like the first, our noses now barely brushing. I can hear her ragged breathing as she holds herself back, and I know better than to make any more moves. So I just wait, clenching my teeth together so I don’t let my urges get the best of me. I squeeze her hands in mine as she rises on her tiptoes, our foreheads now balancing on one another’s. God, this woman is everything…

“Say it again, Jacob,” she whispers, her lips almost on mine.

“Y/N, Y/N… Y/N…” I sing over and over like a hymn to the heavens, wanting to say nothing but her name for the rest of eternity. What a joke that is, since eternity is apparently all that I have. But her name on my tongue is unlike anything I’ve ever tasted. She lets out the smallest whimper at the sound of it, and I have to envision ropes tying me down to stop myself from letting my demons win.

Her hand rises to rest on my chest, likely feeling my speeding heart. “You’re anxious, Jacob,” she teases as my worry comes true. 

“Of course I am, look at you,” I mutter, honestly. 

“What, covered in sweat and hay and manure? Sure,” she laughs a little, pulling away as our eyes meet again, and our hands disconnect. 

I push a strand of hair from her eye. “Yes, and it’s beautiful,” I say honestly, again. 

I watch her cheeks rise with pink. “Don’t flatter me.”

I clear my throat. “My apologies, if I was forward.”

Her hand reaches up, her thumb brushing on my lower lip, removing what felt to be a speck of dirt. The action nearly knocks me on my back, the soft pad of her finger so close to where I could just…

“Not forward. No apologies,” she demands, her voice deeper than normal. She steps backward as we both breathe, and collect ourselves. We stand there for a good fifteen seconds, just staring at one another. My chest is rising and falling now, just from watching her watch me. The tension is so thick I could–

“Ms. St. Lemire!” I hear a man’s voice from the front of the stable. “Shall I let the Foreman know we’ll need assistance all afternoon?”

She clears her throat and shakes her head free of her seemingly intrusive thoughts. “Yes, um, yes please, Winston, if you don’t mind!”

“Not in the least, Ma’am,” he says, and I hear his footsteps retreating.

She clears her throat again as we are both relieved that we weren’t caught those fifteen seconds ago. “My father will be home soon, from his travels,” she breathes, laying a steadying hand on the mare still beside us. 

“And your fiance?” I say before I can stop myself.

“I haven’t got a ring on my finger, Jacob,” she barks, swallowing harshly as if she is offended, or maybe just mad at the fact I brought him up. But she’s telling me true, there’s no ring on her hand to indicate her status. 

“...And?” I press, a little confused. “I thought you said they travel togeth–”

“Yes. They will return home together. And I will have to go with him, I haven’t got a choice,” she says, crossing her arms as she shakes her head. 

I leave it at that, there’s not much that I can say. Her life has been decided for her, and though it seems that their plan goes against everything that she actually wants, I’m positive she doesn’t have a dog in her own fight.

—

Later that evening after I’d spent most of the day showing the barn hands more ways to care for the foal, Y/N returns from her afternoon duties at the homestead to find me taking a catnap in the barn stall. 

“Sleeping on the job, Jacob?” I’m awoken by her sweet voice. I lift my hat from covering my eyes, finding her in the same clothing from earlier this morning. She tosses me a green apple, and I barely catch it as my sleep is still barely escaping me. 

I sit up. “This for me, or for the mare?”

“You. This is for the mare. She prefers a red apple,” she says, offering the mare the fruit as she pets her nose. 

I smile and stand, noticing my stomach growling as soon as I take a bite from the Granny Smith. She disappears for a second, but returns back with another horse, a male Appaloosa. “Come on, want to show you something,” she says as she nods her head for me to follow her out of the barn. 

“But the foal–” I say, replacing my hat.

“The hands will tend to them. Come on, evening is setting in,” I hear her voice from outside. When I finally exit the barn, I find her mounted bareback on the horse, one hand on his mane and the other shielding her eyes from the evening sun. “Hop on, come on.”

My eyes widen at her offer, and I freeze, unsure that what I am seeing is truly real. “Jacob, come on! Hurry!” she orders again. 

I decide to cut my losses, so I take a little run, launching myself up onto the horse with the help of her hand. He’s a smaller horse and still young, yet, but I can tell he has a lot of heart. She begins trotting him to the wooded area behind the barn, and as he picks up speed, I’m completely unsure of what to do with my hands. It’s been a while since I’ve ridden this way as a passenger. 

“Hold on!” she instructs, and as the horse begins to run as we rush through the woods, I have no choice but to wrap my arms around her waist. She guides the horse over the grassy trail, expertly avoiding rocks and hillsides as if she’s ridden all her life. And if I had to guess, she probably has. My arms grip tightly around her as I have no choice but to do so, but I still try to keep them at a respectful level. 

After a few minutes, we enter into a clearing, the deep orange setting sun peeking through the leaves and casting a fire-like glow to the air. She slows the horse as I look over her shoulder, seeing a small pond with an old dock built right out into the middle of it. The water looks fresh and clean, and I can tell that though the dock is old, it’s still in good shape. 

“Where have you brought me, Y/N?” I ask, leaning into her ear just a bit as the horse rounds a tree. “And who is this?”

“To my most favorite place in the world,” she says, stepping off the horse and onto the ground. I follow after her as she ties him to a tree. “And this is Silas. Silas the Great, actually,” she introduces me to the horse. “I took him under my wing five years ago, he was injured and we nursed him back to health. I sat all day and all night in the stable with him, just so he knew he wasn’t alone. Now we’re a bit inseparable,” she says, touching her nose to his. My heart swells, never have I met a woman with a passion nearly the same as my own. Maybe more so, even. 

“Nice to meet you, Silas the Great,” I say, running my hand down his side. “You uh, kind of surprised me… I didn’t expect you–”

“To know how to actually ride a horse? Mm, well if that surprised you, then so will the reason I brought you here,” she says as she turns and walks toward the dock, unbuttoning her riding vest. Next, her hands are gripping at the bottom of her white blouse. She rips it right over the top of her head, tossing it behind her as she turns back to look at me. Then comes her corset. She pulls at its ties behind her until it loosens, and she steps free of it.

Again, I stand frozen. …What?

She then undoes her belt, and kicks off her pants and riding boots as she stands on the weathered wood of the dock. “You coming?” she yells as she continues to undress.

“Ma’am, uh, Y/N, I don’t think this is appropriate,” I say, trying to look anywhere but at her undressing herself. 

“What, rinsing off the straw and sweat from the day? Don’t you want to get cleaned up?” she teases though a side smile. 

I open my mouth to speak, and my brain tells my legs to walk, but I can’t. I’m simply stunned, and she’s standing there in her undergarments, begging me to dive into the water with her. She lifts her pointer finger to tell me to come, so I beckon every bit of nervous energy I have and walk down the slight decline to the water’s edge, gently kicking my boots off into the dirt. 

She watches me intently, feeling no embarrassment or shyness in the least from standing before me, a complete stranger, in almost nothing. I walk slowly to the dock, unbuttoning my shirt with shaking hands as I’m terrified someone is going to catch us. I pull my arms from my sleeves and let the shirt fall behind me, and I swallow the lump in my throat as my hands reach my belt buckle. I pull it from the loops, so slowly that I almost stop altogether if it weren’t for her eyes telling me to get on with it. 

I’m finally before her in my undergarments, and try as I may, keeping my excited self hidden behind them is becoming more and more trying, especially since I can see her nipples through her thin white undergarments. She’s absolutely astoundingly gorgeous. 

“Your hat, Jacob,” she laughs, tapping on her own head. “Unless you’d like to wash it, too.”

I swallow, plucking it from my head and tossing it onto my boots beside me. She smiles, offering me a satisfied look as she turns and dives head first into the water. She re-emerges a few seconds later, brushing the wet hair away from her eyes. “Ooooh!” she exclaims. “A little cold but it feels great, come on!” 

Who is this woman, and where has she been all my life?

I close my eyes and send up a quick prayer of thanks and good luck, and I take a deep breath, hurling myself into the water. She’s right. It isn’t warm, but the refreshment clears my mind and wakes me up more than the ride here, and when I surface, her bright smiling face is right in front of me, her hands gripping my face as I catch my breath. 

“Your face is filthy, Jake,” she laughs as her soft hands rub water over my cheeks and forehead, and I can hardly see straight as she calls me by my nickname. No one’s called me that in a very, very long time. 

I’m still shocked and I know she can tell; it’s as though her comfortability with me increases with every passing second. I know better than to argue it. So I let her clean my face, her thumbs and the pads of her fingers gently running over my eyes and jawline… and suddenly I feel a chill come over me, but not from the temperature of the water. 

I can’t pull my eyes from her as we both fight to stay afloat in the water. The way it’s reflecting off her face, making her eyes look like diamonds as they scan over me. Her lips so perfectly shaped as the corners curl up into a smile as she continues cleansing my cheeks from the mess of the day. “There,” she says. “All better.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice deciding to leave me just like all my thoughts have. It’s like the most perfect moment that I never want to end, and I hardly even know this woman. She slowly separates from me and swims to the dock, hoisting herself onto it and sitting with her legs dangling in the water. She wrings her hair out and wipes her eyes, watching as I swim over to join her. 

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” she says quietly. 

“Yes.” I tilt my head back into the water and run my fingers through my long hair, ridding it of any pieces of straw that have lodged themselves there over the past couple of days. 

“I’ve been swimming here since I was a child. I think the water is healing, magical, even. I always leave here feeling like a whole new person. My own little oasis,” she explains, turning her face to the remnant sunbeams as she reclines on her hands. I hoist myself onto the dock to sit beside her, still feeling just the least bit uneasy at our lack of no translucent clothing. 

“Well thank you for sharing it with me,” I say.

She grins. “You’re a man of few words, aren’t you?” 

I laugh a little. “Ah, I don’t know, am I?”

“Yeah,” she smiles. “Tell me about yourself. Tell me somethin’ you do, besides build boarding houses and take care of foals.”

I lick my lips as I look out over the glittering water, admiring the willow trees hanging out over it. I grip the necklace that lives around my neck in my hand, holding the heavy silver charm between my fingers. I’ve never taken it off, since the day Josh gifted it to me. It was one of the very first things he made in his shop once he became a master silversmith. Though the two of us have become enemies, I still can’t bring myself to remove it. 

“Well, not much really,” I explain, holding back the fact that I am apparently going to stay twenty-five for the rest of eternity. “I devote myself to work, leave myself little time for much else.”

“Hm. No friends, family, no other hobbies?” she asks. 

I shake my head slowly as I turn to her. “No more family,” again, I keep Josh from conversation. “I guess I enjoy going on long walks, learning history, telling stories… spending my last spare coins on a beer or two to reward myself for a long work week,” I shrug. “Not much to me.”

“I think there’s more to you than you realize, Jake,” she says, her eyes searching mine. Again, my heart drops at her use of my name, and the way her eyes look at me as if I’m the only person left on earth. “You were the one that saved that boy, Mrs. Berwick’s son, from the fire… weren’t you?”

My breath catches as I nod slowly. 

“And you were burned pretty badly, your side, here…” she says, motioning to the now healed burn marks along my ribs. “You saved that boy’s life, I remember you were the talk of the town, all over the newspapers… it was you.”

“Right place, right time,” I shrug, trying to calm her talk of heroism. 

“But there was also a fatality, that day, wasn’t there? A woman, did you know her?” she presses. I feel a chill run over my body again, and I close my eyes for a second as the memory floods back.

“I did. She was a…friend,” I swallow.

She pauses, and nods in understanding. “I’m sorry you couldn’t save them both.” 

“I’m sorry, too,” I admit, more to myself than to her. There’s a lull in the conversation as we both breathe in the evening air, giving a moment of silence for the life lost that day. Finally after a minute or so, she reclines back onto the dock, her arms splayed out above her head. I try to avert my eyes from her chest, falling so perfectly. But then, I join her. 

“Do you ever think about running away, Jake? Just packing a bag, and getting on a horse and riding until you can’t see what you’ve left behind you?” she asks, her voice high-pitched and longing. 

I watch as a crow lands in the tree above us, rustling a few leaves to fall and float through the air. “Sometimes,” I say. 

“I think about it all the time. Just leaving. Heading north, probably.” 

I swallow, feeling her elbow barely touching the side of my head. “But, your father, your fiance, your business…”

“I don’t care about any of that. None of it truly belongs to me, it’s all been handed. It’s all been planned, you know?” she breathes, looking at the sky. “I don’t want to live out the rest of my days under the thumb of a man who’s decided my every move since I was born, only to marry another one who will continue to do the same exact thing. Who doesn’t even love me…” she blinks.

“I’m sure he cares very deeply for you, Y/N.”

“No. No he doesn’t, Jacob. The man couldn’t care less about me. He’s–he’s the most unkind person I’ve ever met. Brash and difficult, rude in many ways. Uncaring and hateful. Tries to keep me happy by buying me nice things, sending me gifts. I’ve only kissed him once, and it sent an emotion through me that I’ve never felt. Something bad, something ominous,” she says. “He may care for me on the surface, but I can tell that he knows he will be miserable with a woman fourteen years his junior, just as I feel.”

I don’t know how to respond, so I let her keep going.

“I dream of having a love so fierce that I can hardly sleep at night, for fear of losing a single second of time. A life so free that I look forward to each morning. I want to feel my life, Jake. Not wish for the day that I don’t have to live it anymore.”

Her words hit me like a train. Never has anyone opened up to me this way, before. And for some reason, I feel the need to help her. It’s ironic, here she is telling me that she wants to feel her life come alive around her, while I’m moping at the fact that I will have to live each and every day not knowing if I’ll ever see the end, at all.

I nod and fold my hands underneath my head as she sniffs away a rage-filled tear. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have let all that out on you. Wasn’t very ladylike of me.”

“No no,” I interrupt, “I understand. I wouldn’t want my life to have been chosen for me, either. I couldn’t– I couldn’t imagine it, actually. Especially with someone whose love isn’t mutual with mine.”

“Exactly,” she says, pushing herself up on her elbow. “Am I not crazy, Jacob?”

I shake my head. “No, you aren’t crazy. I’d want to run away, too.” And truly, I would.

“Then let’s go,” she whispers, her eyes wide and hopeful. “You and I, and Silas.”

“Me?” I’m surprised yet again. 

“Yes, you! Why not, you know? This town offers me nothing, nothing is holding me here…” she goes on.

“You’d find no benefit in runnin’ away with a person like me, I can offer you nothing, Y/N,” I argue, completely blindsided by the fact that someone like her would want to have me as a running partner. “I have no money, I have no excitement in my life. No inheritance, no family, no fancy home… You should stay here, where you are comfortable and have a prosperous future waitin’ for you at your doorstep.”

She shakes her head as she stays silent for a beat. “That’s the most I’ve heard you speak, yet,” she finally laughs, rolling back to her back. “Do you think I truly care about all of that, Jacob? I mean I hardly know you, but you have to have noticed that I just spent the last few nights sleeping in the hay of a barn floor. The last thing I care about is how large and appealing my home is, or how much money lines my pockets… I want someone willing to lie there in the hay with me. Someone like, well, you.”

She isn’t wrong. She can read herself like a book.

I sit up and lean over her, bringing my face close to hers as I balance on my elbows. “You really want to do that? You really want to run away…” 

She squints her eyes. “More than I’ve wanted anything in my entire life…” She lifts her head, brushing her nose against mine just as she had done in the barn. I struggle to take a breath as she exhales against my lips, her eyes searching my face again. My entire body stiffens as she gently presses her lips to mine for just a second, her neck craned as her eyes close. She pulls away and covers her mouth, almost as if she didn’t mean to do it at all. She giggles but pulls her hand away from her mouth, instead gently brushing her fingers through my still-damp strands. 

I close the gap again, this time cupping her neck and pulling her body into me. My entire mind is full of fireworks, bright white lights as I feel every single one of my nerve-endings ignite with fire. She feels so perfect, so good underneath me as her lips part just a little, letting me inside. 

I gently brush my tongue into her mouth, tasting her for the very first time. Like fresh spring honeysuckles and the burn of a good whiskey, she kisses me back, the sound of her light cries almost making me come undone as our bodies lurch together, begging to be touched. Her kiss has already weakened me completely, and if we weren’t already lying down, I’d gently lie her back anyway, letting myself take a bit of control as her hands tighten their grip in my hair. Both of our breathing is labored, and neither of us have hardly moved from our places on the dock. She’s blinding me, in every sense of the word. I can hear the tree frogs and feel the breeze around us, but all that exists in my mind is her, and the way she feels as she’s connected to me, the way she tastes on my tongue. I find myself wondering what the rest of her tastes like, and if she would shy away from my efforts to taste her further…

My hand tightens on her neck as my tongue delves a little deeper, eliciting another whisper of a cry from her throat as our lips fight against one another. I can feel the heavy silver chain and charm that stays around my neck falling to rest on her chest. 

We continue this way for a minute, maybe two, just letting ourselves enjoy this new company. Her body writhes under mine as I lean over onto her, and I can feel her breasts pressed up against my chest. My head is spinning and I can hardly form a thought. I let my other hand travel, sneaking it slowly down her arm and along her side, making her shudder beneath me. Her reactions let me know that I’m doing everything right. My hand travels again, pulling her undergarment up just a bit so that my hand can roam over her skin. 

It’s perfectly soft and supple, goosebumps covering the places that I let my fingertips glide. Her kiss is intense, pulling me back in and making my yearning for her all the more heavy. I feel myself tightening in my underwear, and I’m sure she can, too, but she continues her movements. This is a horrible idea, but I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to. She’s already making herself addictive. Just as my hand glides along her stomach, and I’ve decided to test the waters with a light touch of her breast, she hops back in discomfort, making me stop altogether. 

“What’s wrong, are you alright?” I ask, lifting my hand and looking at the place I’d just touched. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes, fine, it just–”

There on her skin, right under her breast is a red rash that looks a bit painful. “What’s this?” I ask. 

“I–it’s probably poison oak, or something… I have been outside a lot lately. Don’t worry about it,” she argues, brushing it off. 

“That looks like it hurts, Y/N, and that isn’t poison oak…” I say, knowing the look of that rash like the back of my hand. “Does it burn?”

“It’s fine, Jacob…” she says as I pull up more of her garment, seeing more and more of the same rash all over her torso. 

“Y/N, what is this?”

Suddenly, though, we’re harshly interrupted. 

“Y/N! Y/N, are you out there?” I pull off of her quickly, realizing that dusk had begun to fall. 

“Shoot,” she says. “It’s my father.” We both stand and quickly begin to grab our clothing and redress. I’m panicking, wondering if he is traipsing through the woods towards us as we speak. I help her lace her corset closure, saddened at the fact that I didn’t even get to help her remove it initially.

I’m grabbing my own shirt as I hear another voice, and it causes me to go stiff on my feet. “Y/N! Sweetheart! Are you there?!” I drop my hands as they hold my shirt and my eyes meet hers with fury. 

“Is that him?” I ask, a fire beginning to burn within me.

“Yes, that’s him, now hush,” she demands. We finish dressing and she makes her way to untie Silas from his place at the tree. 

“Yes, father!” she yells through the trees. “Just brought Silas out for a run! I’m on my way back!” 

I step into my boots and quickly walk back up the incline, feeling flushed and confused and mad all at the same time. I don’t know why I’m mad, the overload of emotions really decided to hit me. Just before she jumps back on to her horse, she quickly paces back over to me, placing her hand harshly on my cheek as she pulls me in for another deep, heated kiss. Fuck, what is she doing to me…

“I meant what I said. If you really want to run away with me…”

“I–I’ve got to finish this job for your father, I’ve got to make this pay…” I say, knowing that if we were really going to do this, I needed to have some jingle in my pocket to at least get us to the next city.

“Alright,” she agrees in a rush, her hand still lingering on my cheek. “But after then, we’ll go…”

“Will you be married by then, Y/N?” I ask, the thought sending daggers through my heart. 

“I’ll do everything in my power to stop that from happening,” she whispers. Just then she takes the cream colored satin ribbon that’s tied in her hair and wraps it around my wrist, fastening it in a loose bow. “Don’t forget about me, Jacob…”

“Impossible, Y/N,” I say through the first genuine smile that’s graced my lips in weeks. I watch as she mounts Silas, offering me a small wave of goodbye as she turns and makes her way back through the heavy trees, leaving me in a pile of whimsical confusion there, in the near darkness. 

—

It’s been two weeks since that day at the pond, without a word or sight of Y/N. I find myself thinking of her often, keeping the ribbon she gave me in the pocket of my trousers. I figure the foal must be getting on well if the coachmen hadn’t come to collect me in this many days. I feel a sense of pride at the fact that it must be flourishing and healthy after a little bit of help. 

Each day I look for her, waiting around to see if her or her father would show up at the job site. The job is nearly complete now, and I know my chances of seeing her are growing slimmer each and every day. I would move on to the next job and she would be but a distant memory, a fleeting thought that will pass through my mind when I least expect it to. It’s unusual that her father had not come to check the progress of the building, though, seeing as how he had been here most days since the start of the project.

An uneasy feeling fills my stomach at his absence, and even more, hers. Unable to stand it any longer I decide that after quittin’ time I would go to their estate. I need to see her. I know my presence will raise suspicion from her father, but I have a plan. 

It isn’t a great distance to walk and luckily the air has cooled some now that summer is drawing to a close. By the time I see the estate in the distance, my sweat soaked shirt has dried and the sun is beginning to set. It really is a beautiful property, riddled with pecan trees and oak trees dotted with spanish moss. The crickets have begun to chirp in the tall grass and I can hear the gentle whinnying of the horses in the stable. Part of me wants to go check on the foal first, but I know I need to announce my presence before someone suspects me of thieving.

As I ascend the long path to the front doors I see several carriages tied up to the horse posts. There are several that I have never seen before and a sick feeling begins to swirl in my chest. The lanterns aren’t burning on the porch, and it seems unsettlingly quiet inside the home. I swallow nervously as I reach for the metal door knocker, hearing it echo through the home. I step back from the door and shove my hand in my pocket, feeling the silky ribbon against my rough fingers. My heart rate has quickened and I can hear it beating in my ears as I wait for someone to answer. 

I stand there for several minutes until suddenly the door rushes open. A woman answers, a look of distress on her face as her eyes search me trying to figure out who I am and what I am doing here. 

“Hello ma’am,” I say, “Could I please speak to Ms. Y/N?”

Her face drops and her lips part as she turns to look behind her. She turns back to me and shakes her head, unable to find the words she is looking for.  “I–I’m sorry sir, I can’t take you to her.”

“I’ve come all this way, is there any way I–”

“Griselda!” I hear a man shout. I believe it’s her father and his voice sounds angry. “Who goes there?”

“My name’s Jacob, I am his carpenter,” I say quickly. 

“His name is Jacob, sir. Says he is your carpenter,” she answers him as he opens the door further. 

“What do you need, boy?” he growls. 

I suddenly feel like I am lost for words. Do I tell him the truth or do I lie?

“I need to speak with your daughter, sir.” 

“My daughter? Y/N?” he scoffs, “There will be no such thing!”

“Sir, if I may–”

“You may not!” he shouts, interrupting my plea. “You have no business with her, and she is unwell. You need to leave my property.”

“She is ill?” I question, my mind immediately remembering her rash and my previous suspicion. “Her rash…”

“How do you know about that, boy?” he seethes. 

I quickly realize I have said too much. “She– she told me about it while I helped tend to the horses. She was in pain.”

His eyes study me, as if trying to decide if I was telling the truth. 

“She has the fever,” he swallows. “Scarlet fever, and she is very unwell.”

I feel my heart shatter into a million pieces as I wrap the ribbon so tightly around my finger that it cuts off my circulation. “If I could please just speak to her for a moment…” I beg. 

“I’m sorry son, but I cannot allow it,” he says finally, shutting the door abruptly. 

I stand there dumbfounded for a few beats, trying to come to terms with the fact I won’t be speaking to her any time soon. I slowly back away from the door, making my way back down the porch steps as I stare up at the home. A window is open on the far right of the house, a sheer white curtain catching the breeze. I decide to try my luck calling out to her, hoping maybe she will be on the other side of the window. 

“Y/N!” I shout, being met with deafening silence. 

“Y/N, it’s me!” I try again, but this time I see someone at the window. It slams shut and the curtains close which tells me my suspicions were correct and she is just beyond the glass. 

I force my feet to carry me down the walking path, stopping to sit on a wooden bench. I drop my head into my hands, suddenly feeling like I failed her. I saw the rash and I knew what it was. I shouldn’t have let it be. I should have made her see the physician. Now I don’t know if or when I will see her again. Guilt fills my soul. I briefly wonder if this is my penance for Lizzy. 

I don’t know how much time has passed as I sit here, but off in the distance I hear the front doors of the home closing and what looks to be a physician walking to his carriage. Before I can convince myself of it I am running towards him, knowing that my only chance of answers will come from him. 

“Sir!” I shout, “Excuse me, sir!”

His head whips around to look at me, his eyes having trouble focusing in the darkness of the evening. 

“Yessir?” he stops, his medical bag in hand. 

I am panting as I stop in front of him, doing my best to catch my breath. “The girl, inside,” I pant. “She has– she has Scarlet fever?” 

“I’m sorry son, it was too late. There was nothing I could do for her.”

“Too late?” I gasp, lightheadedness filling my mind.

“She went without pain, that I can assure you. I am very sorry for your loss, she seemed like a fine lady.”

“She’s– She’s gone?” I breathe. “No– she…”

“I’m sorry son. I must be on my way. Have a good evening,” he says, stepping into his carriage. 

My head whips up to look at the house, the window still closed in the room she was in. There’s a faint glow of a candle burning in the room, and I wonder if her father is with her, if he is with her… holding her hand as they say their silent goodbyes. 

I can hardly wrap my mind around the fact that she’s gone. She can’t be. She was just with me at the pond. In the stables. I still have her ribbon in my pocket… 

“No…” I breathe as my hand flies up to cover my mouth, the sting of tears threatening to fall.

I barely hear the sound of his carriage pulling away. I can’t even feel the rocks and dirt as they hit my skin. All I can feel is my heart shattering and the hope I previously held for the future completely gone. 

—

I don’t know how, but my feet managed to carry me back into town. It felt as if the world had gone silent around me, as if it too was mourning the loss of her. There isn't a soul in sight as I make my way further into the center of town in search of something that can help numb this pain in my chest. I knew her for such a short time but everything in me knew that our meeting wasn’t happenstance. She was everything I never knew I wanted to find. And the only thing that managed to fill my mind anymore. I’d grown so fond of her, but I dare not say just how much.

I push open the door to the barroom, silently scolding myself for returning to this place. I haven’t been here since that night with Joshua. I vowed never to return, refusing to sit in the place that was the catalyst of this damned curse. 

I would now live the rest of my days knowing what I lost with Y/N. Thinking of what could have been. Maybe hell isn’t a place, maybe hell is a state of mind. Damned to an eternity of never knowing what could have been and reliving the memories of what I had. A self inflicted mental imprisonment where fear and guilt is the warden, and the sentence is life. Hell isn't a place you go to atone for your sins, hell is a place you create for yourself to live in endless emotional agony of “what if”.

As I step up to the bartop, the attendant eyes me, clearly recognizing me from the scuffle a few weeks ago. 

“You ain’t gonna cause no trouble here, now are you?” he asks, drying a mug with a dish rag. 

“No sir, just here for a drink,” I answer, my voice gravelly from hours of held back tears. 

He nods his head, “We got a Porter and Lager tonight.”

“Do you have anything stronger?” I ask. 

He looks around at the patrons behind me, then back to me. “I got Whisky, but I ain’t got much.”

“I’ll take what you have,” I answer, feeling thankful that soon my mind would be a blur.

“It’s the real stuff kid, ain’t no foolin’,” he warns.

“I need it,” I answer, tossing all the change in my pockets onto the bartop. Her ribbon falls onto the wooden surface and my breath catches before I snatch it back into my grip, working quickly to tie it around my wrist. His eyes look me over again, his lips pursing as if he wants to say something. He pours a small glass full of brown liquid, sliding it my way as he bites his tongue. 

“Thank you,” I say with a nod, and before I walk away he stops me. 

“Hey kid…”

“Yessir,” I turn to him. 

“I hope whatevers’ ailin’ ya, eases up soon.”

I nod to him and walk away with the drink. The lump in my throat grows as I think of her. I decide right then and there that I would give anything for one more day with her. I would pay any price. If I was cursed to live forever there wasn’t a day that I wanted to spend without her by my side. 

I take a long drink of the spicy liquid feeling like I could breathe fire. He wasn’t lying about the Whisky. I let my mind slowly drift off, thinking of every choice I’ve ever made and how I have found myself here today. I think about my future, or lack thereof. I can’t stay here, not anymore. People will begin to notice when I don’t wrinkle and my hair doesn’t thin. I will live my life on the run, now. Thanks to this curse. Thanks to Josh. My own flesh and blood, the–

The curse. 

My blood runs cold as Seraphine’s incantation swirls through my mind once more. Chills run the length of my body as I feel her power drift through me. I quickly swallow down the rest of the Whisky in the glass, slamming it down onto the table so hard it burns out the lantern. 

“I have to find her. She can fix this,” I mumble, my heart suddenly racing with the idea that she could bring her back. If she can curse me to eternal life, surely she can raise the dead. I push up from my chair and rush towards the bar attendant with a new fire in my chest. 

“I’m looking for someone,” I rush out. “She– she’s a witch. A voodoo lady. She does magic and curses,” I whisper loudly, looking around at the patrons beside me.

The attendant blows out a breath and shakes his head. “I don’t know anyone like that, and you’ll be hard pressed to find someone who does and will admit it.”

“There has to be someone!” I shout, slamming my fist on the bar top. “Please…”

“Listen,” he growls. “Old Mr. Friar may know who you speak of, but he doesn’t say much these days. Hardly speaks to me but to ask for his drink.” He nods to the older man sitting in the corner of the room. He’s dark complected and has a blue glassy eye. He stares off into the distance, his light white hair glowing in the lantern light. 

“He will know?” I ask.

“He may, he got into some trouble back in the day. He is your best bet around here.”

“Thank you sir,” I plead, walking over to the man I now know is Mr. Friar.

I pull out a chair in front of him, hoping he is welcoming to my intrusion of his night. 

“Hello sir, my name is Jacob,” I speak softly, doing my best to hide my nerves. 

He says nothing, continuing to stare out into the barroom.

“Sir, I was told you may know where to find someone. She– she’s a witch or somethin’. Does that black magic. I only know her as Seraphine.”

That seems to catch his attention, his head snapping over to look at me. “What business do you have with her?”

“I– It’s a long story sir, but I need her help. I need to find her. Where can I find her?” I beg. 

“Shouldn’t toy with magic son,” he grunts, pulling his mustached lips into his mouth.

“I need her help to reverse something, and I think only she can do it,” I continue, “Please, anything you can tell me sir, I have money, anything.”

“Keep your money, child,” he pauses, leaning over the table onto his elbows. “To find Seraphine you will need a boat. Head North up the Delta a few miles, and you’ll see a red shack on your right, has a blue roof and looks abandoned. You’ll find her there. You’ll know you’ve found the place when the air grows silent. No creature dead or living dares to be in her presence. You don’t tell her how you found her, now, y’hear?”

Relief overtakes me as I commit his directions to memory. “Thank you sir, thank you so much.”

I push up from the table and storm out the door in search of a boat, and thankfully I know just where to find one. 

—

I trudge along in the darkness, my mind still a bit fuzzy from the spirits, but I think my body would know this route even if I was unconscious, at this point. The half-hour ride in the carriage seems like nothing as I traverse on foot to the St. Lemire’s homestead. Finally, I see the dim lighting of the stables just up the dirt road, and I know that I have a long night ahead of me.

I quietly lurk in the shadows around the side of the stables, just in case any of the hands have decided to have a late night, after learning of the passing of Ms. St. Lemire. When I’m sure I’m alone, I allow the moonlight to guide me in the right direction, and I find the old boat leaned up against the outside wall. I unravel the thick rope that I had brought along with me, gently slipping it through the front handle and tying a tight few knots. 

Again I glance around, hearing nothing but the horses rustling in their stalls. My mind tells me to go in and check on the foal, but truly, I don’t have much time to worry about him. Plus, seeing the baby and the mare without the glowing presence of Y/N beside me might send me into a fit of sadness that I can’t deal with right now. 

I grip the rope and wrap it a few times around my hand before I gently yank it free from its position, letting it fall onto its belly and into the grass. I pray there are no snakes living beneath it as I take hold of the paddles that were propped against the wall. I give the rope some slack and begin to pull it toward the woods, ready to make my journey to the swamp water’s edge and find a place to hide my newly commandeered vessel. I do feel badly for stealing it, but I convince myself I am only “borrowing” it, and plan to return it back to its home in a timely manner. Truly, it looks like it has lived leaned against the side of the barns for some time now, anyway.

I drag the heavy boat through the thick woods, trying not to make too much of a ruckus as the rocks and sticks brush its underside. I go slowly, and blink often, letting my eyes adjust to the half-moonlight. I’m glad I have the paddles to double as walking sticks, feeling out the land before me as I walk. I wish that I had some inkling of how far Seraphine’s home is from the water’s edge, but I suppose I will just have to learn that on my own. 

I know that there is no way that I will be able to make this journey in the darkness, as I did not bring a lantern of any kind along with me. I will hide it in the thick weeds and return home for some sleep, and return at daybreak to make the trip to Seraphine’s.

As I walk, I look to the starred-sky, taking in its wonder and beauty and how I hope that Y/N is somewhere, in another universe or heaven itself, looking at the same sky, too. I miss her, damn do I miss her, already. I hardly even knew her. But still her presence alone was enough to ignite a fire within me that had long been burned out, smoldering bricks of ash that were just waiting to be lit again. And she’d done that. So quickly that it almost scared me. Running away with her sounded like the dumbest, most juvenile decision I could make as a grown man, but I didn’t care. My mind had been made up. If we only had a little more time… if only I had tried to warn her of the fever than I was positive that she had. 

It feels like hours that I walk, catching thorns and bristles in my arms as I sneak through the trees, a thief of my own doing as I pull the boat behind. Thankfully it isn’t too heavy, but the exertion is sobering me up, a bit. Finally I hear the croaks of the frogs and the wildlife that inhabit the swamp, and I know that I am close.

I find a clearing in the thick grasses that shows no signs of footprints or bait traps, and I pull the boat into the water, pushing it behind a thick clump of weeds to hide it as it floats freely. I tie the rope off to a nearby tree before I check my work, and make my way back home to sleep off the rest of that damned Whisky. Tomorrow I will find Seraphine. Tomorrow I will beg for her to bring my Y/N back to me. 

—

The sun is just starting to rise as I paddle towards the shack in the woods. For a long while, I followed the man's directions, and sure enough I spotted the old place without issue. Faded red with a blue roof, just as he said. The bushes and foliage are so overgrown I could have missed it had I not been searching for it. I figure that is probably why it's like that. She doesn’t want to be found. I briefly wonder how Joshua found her but cast that aside as I quietly paddle the boat up to the dilapidated dock. I tie the rope to the rotten wood post and carefully step out of the boat, tossing the paddles inside. 

Just as the man had said, I hear the sound of no wind, no crickets, no birds… everything is still as no living thing dares to be in her presence. 

My blood starts to pump a little harder as I make my way to her door, a thousand thoughts running through my mind. I know this won’t be easy and she may refuse me, but I am here and I won’t leave without my girl. If she can curse me, she can bring my Y/N back. 

I pound my fist against her wooden door, covered in algae and moss from her proximity to the water. It leaves a brown smudge on my fist that I quickly wipe onto my trousers. My heart is beating hard as I wait for her answer, telling myself I am not above barging in. This was a courtesy to her. 

Seconds later the door flies open, revealing to me the woman I remember. The woman that did this to me. 

“Why are you here, boy?” she snaps, cutting her dark eyes at me as if I am the one that did her wrong. 

 “You’re gonna bring her back,” I demand, pushing her door open and stepping inside. She seems surprised by my forwardness but I am not here for games.

“I’ll do no such thing,” she growls, turning away from me.

“You will. You’ve done this to me and you will bring her back. I know you can, and I’m not leaving here until you do.”

“Of who do you speak?” she asks, settling herself in a chair. 

“My girl. My Y/N,” I answer, “She was stolen away from me. I didn’t even get to say goodbye before she was pulled away from this world. You must do something. You must bring her back.”

“Why would I do anything for you? You show up here and demand me to help you?” she questions, raising a brow to me. 

“Because you have cursed me, against my will! I will not spend the next thousand years without telling her goodbye! I didn’t deserve any of this!” I shout, my emotions crawling up my throat. 

She shakes her head, “I cannot help you.”

I raise my voice in panic, “No! You have to! I know you can! I know there is something you can do to bring her back!”

She stares at me for a moment before releasing a breath, “Sit boy.”

I cross my arms across my chest, breathing heavily as I try to calm myself. She eyes me up and down, and it’s clear that she is placing her memory of me. 

“Tell me of this girl,” she says, gesturing to an empty chair.

I begrudgingly sit, resting my elbows on her table with a sigh. “Her name was Y/N. I was working for her father, building a boarding house. She came to the job site one afternoon and I was instantly taken with her. I found myself seeing her several times over the next several days and we planned to run away together. She was being forced into a marriage to a man who didn’t love her. A man that would never love her. Not like I could. We were to go away together. Start a new life. I planned to go to her after the job finished and I got my payout. I hadn’t seen her in several days, and as I went to the estate to check on her, I found she had passed of Scarlet Fever.”

“And why should I help you?” she questions again, nodding her head. Her eyes are illuminated by the few candles burning around the home. 

I furrow my brows at her, “You cursed me. Wrongfully. While I was nearly dead, unconscious and not comprehending what you were doing. I– I never deserved the curse you gave me. Though I have accepted my fate now, I believe it fair that you help me in return. You bring back Y/N and you never have to see me again.”

“Your friend,” she pauses, “He offered me a pretty penny for my work.”

I scoff, “Friend,” I mutter under my breath. 

“This girl, you love her?” she asks and I nod. 

“I can feel that your heart is in your wishes boy,” she pauses. “How do I know you will love her and no other? That you will not long for another?”

The words fall from my lips quicker than I can think of them, “I would chase her through time and space just to see her again. I would go to the ends of the Earth to feel her touch. I would do anything. Give anything. You’ve got to believe me.”

She looks at me for a few long minutes, the silence broken by the thumping of my heart. She puffs the smoke from a pipe that I hadn’t seen before, slowly releasing it from her lips as it floats into the air above her.

“I want to help you, Jacob. But it will come at a cost.”

“I will pay any price,” I blurt. 

“Not that kind of cost, my boy.”

My face twists up in confusion as I listen to her speak. “This is what I can offer you. Though I cannot bring her back to this Earthly plain, I may be able to take you to her.”

“I thought I– How could you do that if I cannot die?” I ask. 

“There is a way my boy, though it too has its consequences,” she starts. 

“I don’t understand.”

“We all exist in more than one place. In more than one dimension. There are hundreds of you, living in different places, at different times. Though our bodies are made from the dirt of the Earth, our souls cannot be destroyed, so they live alongside themselves, existing amongst each other in ways that you cannot even fathom. Though she may be gone from this here existence, she is alive and well in every other,” she explains. “What I can offer you, is a way to get to her.”

“How?” I ask, leaning closer to her in anticipation. 

“It would be a new spell. A new curse placed upon you,” she answers nonchalantly. 

“Do it,” I say, unwilling to let her finish. 

“You must know the implications, Jacob. You must know what you’re asking me for.”

I sit back in my chair letting her continue. 

“Though you will undoubtedly find her, it will not be the same girl you know. It will look like her, talk like her, act like her, but it will not be her. She will not know you, or have any memory of this life. You will be a stranger to her. But, humans alone cannot change fate, and if she is the woman you are destined to love, she will love you in every lifetime just as she did in this one. In every dimension you will be together in one way or another.”

“So it will be her, but not the girl I knew…” I confirm. 

“Preciscely, Jacob. You will have to start from the beginning with her, every time.”

“Every time? As in…”

“As in every time you find her,” she answers. 

“I don’t understand,” I groan. 

“You will only have a set amount of time with her. You will know when your time is running out. When it is time to move on.”

“Then I will start over,” I breathe, finally understanding. “How long will I have with her?”

“Every jump will be different, my child. You will know when time is running out. You will feel it, even see it. You will begin to anticipate it. All the signs will be there and eventually you will know before it happens.”

“So I will do this forever?” I ask, realizing what my future will hold. 

“No my boy, not forever. There will come a time when it is all over,” she pauses, puffing her pipe again, “When I will collect.”

I rub my hand over my mouth, taking in the weight of what will be the rest of my days. “All of this because my twin hates me. Because he refuses to hear the truth and accept it for what it is. I did everything I could, you must understand.” I’m near tears.

“What did you say, child?” she snaps.

“What?”

“Did you say your twin?” she asks, quickly standing from her chair. 

“Yes, I– Joshua is my identical twin brother. He brought me here that night and had you place the curse because–”

“Silence!” She screams, throwing a glass dish at the old wooden walls. It shatters into hundreds of tiny pieces as the air grows frigid around me. 

“This changes everything!” She shouts, “It’s worse than I believed!”

“What? Changes what?” I ask, standing from my chair. 

“He didn’t tell me you were twins!” She seethes. 

“Yes, yes, identical twins. He is older than me by a few minutes,” I explain, my hands starting to shake. 

“He only said you were brothers! Do you know what this means, child?!” she yells. 

I shake my head, beginning to breathe heavily as the candle flames blow out, the crow hanging in the cage above us cawing loudly at her outburst. 

“You share the same blood. Your blood is his blood. His blood is your blood,” she pauses. “He didn’t only curse you, child. He cursed himself as well. The curse was sealed with your blood. The blood that you share!”

“So he–”

“Yes. He suffers the same fate as you,” she answers, her fist clenching around her pipe. “Anything I do to you will also be imposed upon him. You two will share the same fate, always.”

A pit settles in my stomach, I know he doesn’t know what he has done and because of that I refuse to give him any of my pity. He shouldn’t have acted so brashly. It is clear he never thought of the consequences. We came into this world together, and we will exist in it together until the end of time, whether he knows it or not.

“It changes nothing,” I demand. “I must find her. I must be with her.”

“He too, will go where you go,” she warns. “Always.”

“Be it as it may.”

Seraphine limps toward me, forcefully blowing her smoke around my face, the smell of it taking me back to the night Joshua cursed me. “You must be sure, child. There is no going back...” Her eyes delve deeply into mine as she studies me, reading the aura that I must be projecting.

“Please, let me go to her,” I beg, my anger feeling like it has subsided into something more subservient, an emotion of willingness that I was devoid of when I crossed her threshold. The smell of her smoke is making me dizzy, my emotions of sadness crawling back into my bones though I try and fight them. 

“You must know you are no better than your brother for imposing this upon him, much in the same way he placed the curse upon you,” she says. 

“Please, don’t think it is my fault that my brother didn’t tell you. Tell me that this new curse will benefit me…” I plead with Seraphine, straightening my shoulders a bit as to show her I am unafraid of her.

“It will benefit you, boy, as long as fate decides to be on your side. I may collect the roots of the earth and I may stir them into elixirs to alter the state of your being, but it’s the magic itself that will decide your fate. It will read your soul more delicately than I could ever even begin to…” she drawls, her accent so heavy it almost escapes me. 

Suddenly she is close in front of my face again as I fall backward into the chair that Josh had tied me to when I was cursed the first time. Seraphine’s long hair and braids fall onto my lap as her face is within inches of mine, and I can smell the scent of charred incense and tobacco burned into her very being. 

“You may only jump a limited amount of times through time and space, the count is unbeknownst to me, and unbeknownst to you, but you will be offered clues as to when you are running out,” she sings, her neck contorting her head into jerked twists as she speaks to me from somewhere that is not her own mouth. “You mustn’t toy with the fabric of Mother Nature, you mustn't make yourself a known person of public interest, and most importantly, you mustn’t ever take the life of another human being,” she explains, the sound of her voice changing with each word. “Do you understand?” she asks. 

I nod against her, her hands now pressing down hard on my wrists as her dark eyes bore into mine. “Yes, yes I understand,” I agree, committing every word to memory. I quickly glance down to my wrist, finding Y/N’s ribbon sitting underneath the old, bony hand of Seraphine.

“Every move you make will be for her, every ounce of effort you desire to perform will be in her favor, and you must never lose sight of that, you must never long to find the love of someone that isn’t her, or else this will have all been for nothing,” she bellows, the wind flashing across our faces. I nod in understanding. 

Finally, Seraphine steps back, glaring at me. Her hand extends, and a small object forms in the palm of it. I can’t tell what it is until she takes it, opening it up. It’s a hand mirror, scratched and cracked on the surface, but still catching the light of reflection. 

“This, and this alone will be your amulet for advancement through dimensions. Mirrors, child, and seeing yourself in them will be your means of travel. Stand and see yourself as you are, while you recite,”

“Echoed glass, reveal the way, through the veil of night or day. Turn the key, unlock the door, let me walk through time once more.”

I repeat the incantation over and over with her as I memorize it, and somehow, I am able to correctly and precisely say each and every word as if I have memorized them like a prayer. The fabric of the words sewn into my mind like a perfectly cut quilt.

I take the hand mirror from her as she continues speaking, the wind carrying a strong aroma as it blows against the walls. 

“Wherever you land, find a tree with three mother trunks, and a deep hole at its center. There, inside, will be everything you will need to survive in the place and time you find yourself. You’re to blend in with the people there, and never question anything. Remember your sole mission is to find her, and show her time and time again that she is the reason for everything you do.”

“Will I age? After I jump, Seraphine?” I ask.

“No. That part of the curse is irreversible. Even as you travel through the continuum, you shall still stay this age, forever. As will your brother.” 

“Will he know? When he’s thrust into the next world with me, will he know what is happening?” I ask again.

Again, she shakes her head. “No. That’s his punishment for not disclosing every detail of our last arrangement. He will wake up in time with you, though he may be in a different place altogether.” 

So, as I search for my Y/N, I will also spend my time escaping my brother. Just as I am now, I suppose.

“What’s in this for you?” I ask her, suddenly aware of the fact that she gains nothing from this arrangement. “You’re helping me so willingly…”

Seraphine licks her dark lips, her eyes flashing a bright gold before falling into a dark black, again. “After so many jumps, I will lay claim to your soul.”

Claim? “So, I will die?”

“Your mortality is not up to me to decide. I didn’t create this malediction, I am only the vessel of it. Like I said before, the conjury is mine, the magic is not,” she explains. 

“Fine, fine, just do it. I do not care for the rest of my future if she is not with me in it, I’ve got nothing left to lose…” I plead as I feel an energy coursing through my body.

“Give me your hand, Jacob,” she orders, and I place my open palm into hers, the same one that Josh cut with his knife so as to secure his curse upon me the first time. “Do you have any markings, child? Birthmarks, scars…”

“Yes,” I reply, a euphoric feeling entering my bones as I breathe in the heavy herbal fumes surrounding me. “A burn scar, here,” I motion to my side and pull up my shirt. 

“Mm, very well,” she says, laying her hand overtop of it as words that I do not recognize escape her lips. “And something of hers… the one you wish to follow across time…” she asks. 

Immediately I pull the ribbon from around my wrist, reluctantly handing it off to her. She takes it with force, placing it on the table beside us. 

“Finally, something that never leaves you. A constant, something that is unchanging…” she holds her hand out again moving her fingers as if I’m going to hand her something. I wrack my brain, but her hand touches my chest. My silver necklace and charm. “Do you wear this always? Do you ever remove it?” she asks. 

“I never remove it,” I reply. 

“Good. It will be your talisman of continuance. Keep it always, never let it leave your person. It will be what keeps you tied to this curse, it will keep you within the realm of what we are bounding today. Without it, you cannot jump,” she explains, and I take note again. Just as her hand squeezes across my necklace, I feel a sharp blade cross the palm of my hand again as I become increasingly lightheaded. 

The sound of the wind whooshes by my head, the smell of spices and herbs fills my nose, and the feeling of my body being completely torn from my own control overtakes my entire being. I’m dizzy, feeling as though I am spinning out of control. 

“Look at the book, child…” I hear Seraphine’s voice, muffled and distorted as she begins reciting a different version of the same incantation she had taught me earlier. I feel blood oozing from my hand and a burning feeling comes across the scar on my side. Look at the book. Look at the book.

“Winds of time, both swift and slow, through the mists, let moments flow. Past and future, intertwine, guide his path through space and time.”

“Stars that mark the cosmic thread, guide him where the hours spread. Through the veil of ages cast, let him journey to the past.”

“Echoes of the ancient day, and whispers of the dawn’s first ray, open now the temporal gate, to reveal his destined fate.”

“By the moon’s eternal gleam, and the night’s unending dream, shift the currents, bend the line, let the ages now align. In the shadows, through the light, lead him through both day and night.”

“As I speak, so let it be, through the echoes, set him free.”

I blink my eyes as my mouth begins reciting along with her, and suddenly the mirror is in front of my face. My voice grows louder, and the wind grows more intense, but my body has never felt stronger than it does, right now. I’m watching my own reflection in the mirror as I feel as though I am going to disintegrate, waves of pleasure and pain switching back and forth with dizziness. I’m confused, but I’ve never been more sure. 

The last thing I hear is Seraphine’s voice mixed with my own before all I can see is black. I don’t breathe, and I don’t move. I don’t even think my heart beats. I’m suspended in between two moments that don’t even exist, one coinciding with the other as they float and dance along a timeline so vast and elusive that the Creator himself couldn’t even control them if he wanted to. But I, now the holder of a skill so rare, can.

I am face down on the floor, my body feeling as if I have just traveled a thousand miles. I peek my eyes open to see that I am in my own home, on the floor of my bedroom. I sit and shake my head, trying to get my wits as my memory floods with the happenings of the past hour. Did I jump?

The scar on my side is burning with a fire so intense that I have to grab it to make sure I’m not actually on fire, again. And when I glance beside me, I see a book. The book. I pick it up, holding the small brown leather bound pages in my hands as I notice something stuck between the cover and the first paper page. It’s Y/N’s ribbon. 

I pull the book open, seeing her ribbon holding the page, perfectly untouched. And there, written in fresh black ink, is a place of which I have seldom heard, and a time of which does not yet exist. I stand, walking to sit on the side of my bed as I look around the room, feeling no emotional attachment to it at all, nor a want to exist in this place for another second without her. My heart won’t beat unless for her, my breaths won’t give me life if not to live for her. I’m positive of my decision.

I pull the compact mirror from my pocket, taking a deep breath as I open it. I see my reflection, disheveled and exhausted, but a glisten in my eye that feels unfamiliar. My mouth begins saying the words again as I hold the mirror in one hand, and the book in the other.  

“Echoed glass, reveal the way, through the veil of night or day. Turn the key, unlock the door, let me walk through time once more.”

I feel my body begin to lurch and thrash, but nothing could ever make me feel more perfect than I do, right now. A flight through the clouds could never compare to this euphoria, an ecstasy I’ve never encountered weighing so heavily upon me as I feel my body ascending. The last thing I see before I slip back into nothingness, is the ink dancing across the page. 

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[digitalvision]

Wooden Tableware to Elevate Your Meals

Today, where almost every kitchen product is made from stainless steel and other materials, there's an undeniably special quality in the touch of nature. We are introducing our stunning and handmade premium quality wooden tableware collections tha bringing a unique warmth and charm to your everyday meals. Our wooden products are ready to transform your simple acts of eating and drinking into sensory experiences. If you want to explore finest collection of wooden, concrete, and woolen products, you can check out our website.

Now let’s explore our finest collection of wooden products.

1. Wooden Coffee Cup:

Ah, the humble coffee cup, a vessel not just for caffeine, but for the very essence of the morning. In those quiet pre-dawn hours, before the world fully awakens, the coffee cup becomes a companion, a confidante, and a catalyst for the day ahead. Its importance in the morning ritual cannot be overstated.

Our wooden coffee cup cradles your morning caffeine fix in cozy warmth, the natural wood grain adding a touch of organic elegance to your morning ritual. It's a quiet moment of luxury, just you and your coffee, connected by the simple beauty of nature.

2. Wooden Tea Cup:

Holding a wooden teacup is like cradling a piece of nature itself. The smooth, cool wood feels grounding, connecting you to the earth's raw beauty. Each cup boasts unique grain patterns, a fingerprint of the tree it once was, making it a one-of-a-kind treasure.

As you pour hot water over your favorite leaves, the wood gently infuses the aroma, creating a sensory symphony. Each sip reveals the natural sweetness of the wood, complementing the delicate flavors of your tea. This isn't just a cup, it's an invitation to slow down and savor the moment.

3. Wooden Ice Cream Cup:

Wooden ice cream cups elevate the simple act of enjoying frozen treats to a sensory extravaganza. Forget flimsy paper and sugary cones, these rustic vessels offer a unique blend of charm, sustainability, and taste that's sure to tantalize your senses.

Ditch the boring paper bowls and let the natural charm of wood add a touch of whimsy to your frozen treat. The cool wood against your fingers as you dig in creates a playful contrast, enhancing the simple pleasure of your favorite scoop. It's a reminder that joy comes in the smallest moments, often wrapped in the beauty of nature.

4. Wooden Water Glass:

Forget the predictability of glass and the coldness of plastic – wooden water glasses offer a unique and captivating way to hydrate. Wood, unlike glass or metal, is a natural insulator. This means your iced water stays refreshingly cold, while hot beverages retain their warmth longer, without burning your fingers. It's a comforting embrace in every sip, a delightful interplay between the coolness of the liquid and the gentle warmth of the wood.

Our wooden water glass transforms even the most basic act of hydration into a mindful experience. The cool water against the natural grain creates a gentle sensation, reminding you to savor each sip. It's a celebration of nature's bounty, a reminder to appreciate the beauty in the everyday.

5. Wooden Soup Bowl:

Cozy up to a steaming bowl of goodness in our warm, inviting wooden soup bowl. The natural wood insulates your fingers from the heat, while the rich aroma of the broth infuses the wood, creating a sensory treat. Imagine a chilly evening, candles flickering, and everyone huddled around the table, sharing stories and laughter over steaming bowls of soup. It's a moment of family, of warmth, of connection brought together by the simple power of nature.

Our wooden tableware is more than just beautiful objects; it's an invitation to reconnect with nature, to slow down and savor the everyday moments. Each piece is handcrafted with care, infused with the unique character of the wood, and ready to bring a touch of warmth and charm to your table. So go ahead, embrace the natural beauty, and let our wooden tableware transform your meals into moments of mindful joy.

[yourcoffeeguru]

3D Wooden Puzzle Beer Mug Stein Boxed with Instructions || swtradepost || eBay

[rainylana]

Random Eddie Headcanons

no warnings, just strictly fluff and some random things that i think are eddie coded! hope everyone is doing okay! just a reminder that my requests are closed, as i’m trying to give myself more of a break! love you all!

• i feel like his room would be like going into an antique shop. he’s got so much shit everywhere, half of it is trash and beer cans, but he’s got so many little trinkets and what he calls “treasures” that he just can’t seem to part with. he’s probably lowkey a hoarder.

• he likes going yard saling just for the sole excuse to rummage through peoples stuff. he likes to pick out a mug to give to wayne, or a random hat to hang up with his collection on the wall. it’s what he spends his pocket change on.

• still has his baby blanket that’s basically worn down to a rag. he’s too afraid to wash it, thinking maybe it’ll get torn to pieces in the washer. he tangles up with it every night and it winds up at his feet by morning.

• would definitely be the type of person to get a smiley face tattooed on the tip of his penis.

• likes old country music just because wayne does. he’s a big fan of john denver and america.

• hasn’t been to the doctor in years. he’s too afraid to go. wayne got him to go a few times when he was a kid for a regular checkup, but by 15 he refused to go so wayne stopped forcing him. he’s deathly afraid of getting shots or that wooden stick that presses on his tongue.

• there’s a trailer next door that has two little girls who like to have tea parties outside. it’s never real tea, just air in their cups that eddie made the mistake of pointing out, but they always ask him to join and he does, sticking up his pinky and making tea party conversation.

• he definitely wakes the trailer park up when he’s coming home in the middle of the night, whether it’s from band practice or a random hook up. his music is on full blast. wayne will burst out the door, cussing and carrying on about turning it down.

• loves the golden girls and gilligans island, definitely scooby doo. probably hates the brady bunch because of the cheesy family dynamic, but loves watching little house on the prairie reruns in the middle of the night.

• prob made his own tattoo gun and tried to tattoo his leg. he failed. and hurt himself in the process.

• he would love greenhouses i think, but he’s always really hot and burning up inside them. he likes to smell all the types of flowers and pluck the petals and rub them between the pads of his fingers.

• trades cassettes with his friends, but will never give up his metallica or black sabbath ones.

[helenvader]

I am not that thrilled about the football plot of Unseen Academicals, but there are so many gems in the book. Here we have Lord Veterinary 🤣 who did his homework on the subject at hand so well that it makes everybody speechless (no news), and the last part is just... glorious.

--

At which point someone tried to slap Vetinari on the back. It happened with remarkable speed and ended possibly even faster than it began, with Vetinari still seated in his chair with his beer mug in one hand and the man’s wrist gripped tightly at head height. He let go and said, ‘Can I help you, sir?’

‘You’re that Lord Veterinary, ain’t ya? I seed you on them postage stamps.’

Ridcully glanced up. Some of Lord Vetinari’s clerks were briskly heading towards them, along with some of the slurred speaker’s friends, who could be defined at this point as people who were slightly more sober than he was and right now were sobering up very, very fast, because when you have just slapped a tyrant on the back you need all the friends you can get. Vetinari nodded at his gentlemen, who evaporated back into the crowd, and then he snapped his fingers at one of the waiters.

‘A chair here, please, for my new friend.’

‘Are you sure?’ said Ridcully, as a chair was pushed under the man who, by happy coincidence, was falling backwards in any case.

‘I mean,’ said the man, ‘everary one saysh you’re a bit of a wnacker, but I saysh you’re awright over thish football fing. ’Sno future in jus’ shlogging away. I should know, I got kicked inna head quite a few times.’

‘Really?’ said Lord Vetinari.

‘And what is your name?’

‘Swithin, shir,’ said the man.

‘Any other name, by any chance?’ said Vetinari.

‘Dustworthy,’ he said. He raised a finger in a kind of salute. ‘Captain, the Cockbill Boars.’

‘Ah, you aren’t having a good season,’ said Vetinari. ‘You need fresh blood in the squad, especially since Jimmy Wilkins got put into the Tanty after eating someone’s nose. Naphill walked all over you because you lost your backbone when both of the Pinchpenny brothers were taken to the Lady Sybil, and you’ve been stuck down in the mud for three seasons. Okay, everyone says that Harry Capstick is making a very good showing since you bought him from Treacle Mine Tuesday for two crates of Winkle’s Old Peculiar and a sack of pork scratchings, which is not bad for a man with a wooden leg, but there’s never anyone in support.’

A circle of silence spread outwards from Vetinari and the swaying Swithin. Ridcully’s mouth had dropped open and Henry’s brandy glass remained half empty, an unusual occurrence for a glass that’s been in the hands of a wizard for more than fifteen seconds.

‘Also, I’m hearing that your pies are leaving a lot to be desired, such as dead, cooked, organic content,’ continued Vetinari. ‘Can’t get the Shove behind you when the pies are seen to walk about.’

‘My ladsh,’ said Swithin, ‘are the besht there ish. It’sh not their fault they’re up againsht better people. They never getsh a chance to play shomeone they can beat. They alwaysh gives it one hundred and twenty pershent and you can’t give more than that. Anyhow, how come you know all this shtuff ? It’s not like we’re big in the league.’

‘Oh, I take an interest,’ said Vetinari. ‘I believe that football is a lot like life.’

‘There ish that, shir, there ish that. You does your besht and then shomeone kicksh you inna fork.’

‘Then I strongly advise you to take an interest in our new football,’ said Vetinari, ‘which will be about speed, skill and thinking.’

‘Oh, yeah, right, I can do all them,’ said Swithin, at which point he fell off his chair.

‘Does this poor man have any friends here?’ said Vetinari, turning to the crowd.

There was some diffidence among them concerning whether or not it was a good idea to be friends with Swithin at this point.

Vetinari raised his voice: ‘I would just like a couple of people to take him back to his home. I would like them to put him to bed and see that no trouble comes to him. Perhaps they ought to stay with him until morning too, because he just might try to commit suicide when he wakes up.’