Apsara

She/अपसरा, writer, dancer, college student

[ramayantika]

Masterlist

Samridhi, समृधि, desiblr ki अपसरा 🎀💖

College student, dancer, writer

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#samridhi writes: for all my writings here

#dro sam: for the Desi Romance stories/oneshots

#samridhi speaks: for all my rants and shitposting

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Tumblr writings here

-> Desi Romance

-> Krishna fics

-> Miscellaneous

● Rehman Baloch ●

● Uzair Baloch ●

[catchymemes]

[ramayantika]

Hehe I did something

I made a moodboard out of this on a budget hostel vala photoshoot 😋

[gothicada]

ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ ɪꜱ ꜱᴇᴇɴ

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫.

purchase a reading from me, get a personal one about your beauty and confidence! first 2 people to purchase the 2nd tier on a lower price!

THE PILES

ꨄ PILE ONE

ꨄ HOW OTHERS SEE YOUR BEAUTY? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {ARES IV, STRENGTH VIII, THE CHARIOT VII, THE STAR XVII, Seven of Swords and JUSTICE XI}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [moments like these by beauty's confusion, more than a feeling by boston and whenever, wherever by shakira].

ꨄ 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 think your beauty is dominant, like its the type of beauty that is THERE. undeniable type of beauty, it is the type of allure that has other people glance at each other with a knowing look on their face. you could also be someone who notices the reactions other people have when they see you they feel like they have to collect themselves together and sit up straight. your beauty screams power to people even if you cannot see it yourself.

ꨄ 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 people could think you have the type of look that has you swimming in money by the end of the year. im seeing that other people find your beauty the type to be bought and not in a weird way, bought in a context of people wanting you for their magazines, photoshoots or to be around them. that is the type of elegance you have, other people want to be around you because of how strong your face card is, it might sound like i am repeating myself but this is the energy people have when they are looking at you, you have a champion's beauty.

ꨄ 𝐢'𝐦 going to sound like im complimenting you and kissing your ass all the time but this could be how people behave when you are not there. your type of beauty is spoken about to others, it could even be shared and celebrated if you post yourself. people could find your physical appearance to be very divine and pleasing to look at, if you wonder why people could be staring at you all the time it is likely because of how piercing your beauty is. it stands out like genuinely, the rest of the cards here are Major Arcanas instead of the Seven of Coins and i think that mirrors how strong people think your beauty is.

ꨄ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 have the type of look that has people stare, and when people see you they know that you are going to be beautiful forever, like you would age like fine wine. there's something about your skin people would like a lot too. there's 3 Sevens [The Chariot 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧, The Star 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 and Seven of Coins] and this can mean that other people find your beauty to be really divine, or very spiritual. you could have a look to you that makes people consider the idea that you are someone who could practice stuff that enhances your look.

ꨄ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 if you dont, this spread is saying that your beauty is so intense, that people think you're doing spells. your beauty is balanced, you might not see it but others consider your look to be something that fits on your face perfectly, and would see you to be someone who is a sight for sore eyes. your beauty is something others stare at and glance at each other because they're both seeing the same thing, its the silent look that says a thousand words.

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ꨄ HOW TO GAIN MORE CONFIDENCE? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {ARES IV, Queen of Coins, Six of Swords, Ten of Wands, Two of Swords and Eight of Coins}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [crazy in love by beyonce featuring jay-z, l'amour toujours and the spins by mac miller featuring empire of the sun].

ꨄ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 need to stop gaining your confidence from outside sources, like yes this is a beauty reading, but anyone can be interested in a beauty/confidence reading and still not do the shadow work you are supposed to be doing that makes you remember who you are. i see with these cards that majority of the people here are working on their confidence, they are transitioning towards an era where they are taking off the burdens that was put by other people, buy stuff that you think is cute, service yourself instead of others.

ꨄ 𝐠𝐨 where you are loved, because even if validation from the self-core is important, so is the environment you are in. if you are in a environment where it could be hostile all the time this can make self-internalise more of you anger and frustration which is a human thing to do but the spread speaks of you to be someone who drowns in those insecure emotions so having an anchor or something that reminds you who you are! the two of swords also represents the idea that people who picked this pile likely are in denial of their own presence and charm.

ꨄ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 could also be someone who carries your own burdens all the time while being an open-ear for other people. there's nothing wrong with doing that, but if you put yourself in a cycle of being that person and dodging any possibilities of receiving help that can heal you and face your beauty you could accidentally lean into a spiral of thinking that no one is going to be there for you...because you dont open the door for people helping you! ARES at the front implies that you can be very hyper-independent because you are used to, it does not need to be like that anymore.

ꨄ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 could also be something about yourself you can take for granted and this can be one of the major things that is a key to you not only seeing your beauty but feel your confidence from the inside! i even see the possibility of you being the type of person who procrastinates so if you decide you are going to start trying to journal, you could be the type to push it back because you could be scared facing yourself and actually looking at your insecurity, pride and the ego that stops you from facing your flaws.

ꨄ 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 who picked this pile could also have a thing for being in denial, you keep on moving as if pretending your flaws do not exist will make the actual problem cease to endure but that is never going to be the case because you'll run into a situation where something that triggers the insecurity to crawl back into your heart and mind. plus, give yourself standards to work on but dont put too much of a burden on your shoulders and remember you are a human and not a robot.

purchase a reading from me, get a personal one about your beauty and confidence!

ꨄ HOW ARE YOU GOING TO LOOK BY THE END OF THIS YEAR? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {LOVERS VI, Seven of Cups, Ace of Wands, THE DEVIL XV, Five of Wands and Queen of Coins}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [sour switchblade by elita, amour assassin by fally ipupa and come over by aaliyah].

ꨄ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 cards say that you are going to look absolutely beautiful, you'd either still not be able to see it [don't worry feeling confident is a process do not rush yourself] there is something from within that'll make you glow and look balanced. your beauty would be harmonious, instead of following trends you would be wearing stuff that will not only make sense for your face and your body but will also make sense for your soul. by the end of this year you would feel like you are becoming the butterfly that is crawling out of the cocoon, so even if you might not feel like you are on 100% you will still feel like you are going somewhere.

ꨄ 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 who picked this pile are going to be very dreamy looking, you will even feel the eyes of other people stare and it could put you off, it could make you feel uncomfortable in the beginning, especially for the people who might not be used to the attention of other people. but just so you know, that is definitely going to change and you might even feel the shift. i see the possibility that you could even try wearing clothes that are more revealing, some of you might've had a shame of wearing exposing clothes in the past because of how you were raised but there's a wide possibility of you growing out of those restrictive personality.

ꨄ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 could also be leaning onto a more sultry appearance, darker colours, focusing on your eyes. growing your eyelashes or doing different eye make-up that frame your face really well. you would have the type of beauty that looks very two-faced, people might jump to conclusions about you being a red-flag type of gorgeous and with how these cards look like it could even be a black flag. there might be a feature that stands out and it could be a body feature, even though sexualisation is something that happens to many people, the theme of it is prominent here, and what im trying to say is that a sexualised feature of yours already will become more developed by the end of the year you're reading this on.

ꨄ 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 will ooze out of the people who pick this pile, this could make you attract shallow people but if you are someone who wants to have fun by also embracing your sexuality throughout your new-found confidence so be it. you would feel like you are able to experience things in life because of how you are going to look. on the other hand, some of the people who picked this pile could be obsessed with how they look or they might be obsessing with the end outcome of something whether it could be exercise, getting better at make-up or listening to subliminals. you people are going to be very devoted to your appearance.

ꨄ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 2 fives here [Five of Coins and the Devil 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧] and usually this does speak of conflict, but in this context it could mean having a look that appears "unfaithful" like people who pick this pile are going to look like a cheat to others. it might sound like a stretch, but the look you'll be embodying by the end of this year will personify by the end of this year will represent not a "unhinged not knowing how to dress" type of person but someone who can put contrary styles together but still appear as put together. you are going to look both Divine and Demoniac, but there would also be a soft comfort look you will have on your face despite looking two-faced which could be another reason why people might not know how to manage you.

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♱ PILE TWO

♱ HOW OTHERS SEE YOUR BEAUTY? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {King of Wands, Ten of Wands, Six of Swords, THE BIRTH 0, THE STAR XVII and Ten of Coins}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [diary by alicia keys featuring tony! toni! tone! and jermaine, track 10 by charli xcx and ride it by jay sean].

♱ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 people see your beauty for the first time they feel like they are really taken someone, they likely do think you have this dark but also fresh beauty. the king of wands usually implies someone's beauty dominates the room it is in and with the ten of wands besides it. it means that you have a type of elegance that impacts people. though you could also have this tired or "i know have this" beauty that completes your depth.

♱ 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 the the first pile that was more of a beauty that mixes and can be very versatile, when i see the six of swords in this reading i see this in a perspective of people thinking you have a type of look where it feels like you just left something while still having your strength and willing to embrace something new. that is something that makes you very beauty besides from your looks, its the fact that you shine as something that wants to continue their story and that is inviting.

♱ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 have a prettiness that welcomes healing, your beauty is very abundant and the king and ten of wands being there implies that. the ten of wands does not always insinuate something negative in a beauty/confidence reading it could also mean something is heavy or too abundant for others to the point of it being a problem for them and even you. the ten of coins being here is the cherry on top, especially because its an art the depicts helen of troy holding a mirror with Aphrodite sculpted on the back, and that story in the image says enough.

♱ 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 it is because i compliment too much, but my cards are really praising this pile not like the other piles dont deserve praise but people who picked this pile, it might've taken you a long time to realise your beauty and your self-value and this pile wants to remind you how bright and refreshing it is for the people around you. you could have a beauty that is so new and unique, but not unique is a new way its more of an allure of "how comes i've never seen this before", that it is just associated with you and people might not be able to look away from you because of it.

♱ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 have a model type of beauty, or its the type of beauty that used to get models scouted in the past. that uniquely beautiful that if you were alive and thriving that era you would be put on the runway. there's 2 tens [Ten of Wands and Ten of Coins] and this means HEAVY face card for people, its genuinely too much for others. on the other hand it could also mean you might change people's types as well, the birth and the star in this reading confirms that too. the birth in this deck represents the birth of venus.

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♱ HOW TO GAIN MORE CONFIDENCE? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {JUSTICE XI, Three of Swords, Queen of Wands, Nine of Wands, Ten of Coins and Seven of Cups}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [heaven by bryan adams, andromeda by weyes blood and angel by shaggy featuring rayvon].

♱ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 shufflemancy for this pile is very sweet, because it means that you are someone who needs to face the heartbreak you've been through to understand the pain in your heart. because the pain of the words that were spoken to you, is something you likely still carry and this is not to insult you but to remind you that those words were shared to dim your light. the queen of wands is in this reading and when the queen of wands is in a reading via confidence it means that you have a natural light that cannot be entirely taken away.

♱ 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 with the nine of wands being there, it means the spark is still there you just need to get on the lane that helps you re-connect with it. you need to reverse what have been said to you and say it to yourself, remember you are beautiful, creative, wonderful and well deserving to be in the space you currently are in now. dont put too much pressure on how you look because that is something that makes you drown back into your insecurity again, easier said than done but the fact that you are moving along with the process is what matters.

♱ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 people who picked this pile are likely people who are already almost there, to the version of themselves that is going to become full again and take part of the self-love path that involves your imaginative and formative destiny that helps you feel powerful. i see the possibility of you guys likely being the type to keep everything in, when you feel like you are ready to receive help go receive help because not everyone can just step out of their bed and confidently ask for help from other people. however, this spread is pushing me to actually make you guys remember how much you have carried yourself to where you are now.

♱ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 part of the pile is more of the cards wanting to realise you already have that confidence, now it wants you to find courage in putting that confidence and courage into work but once again, baby steps if you cannot leap now. however, what i find funny is that this spread is saying that because you have been in a grey moment in your life you have forgotten that you are the baddest bitch on the block, i dont even care if it sounds corny. life's trials and tribulations have put a burden on your shoulders because of the issues other people could've projected onto you but what the energy is saying now, the pressure and insecurities of other people are not for yours to carry!

♱ 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 if you continue to carry them, the more you forget what makes you special. the troubles of other people's blends with yours and you forget your way. people who pick this pile might help people a lot which is kind, but take a rest and give gratitude to yourself and once you do you'll feel your energy return back to you, it might take some time but it will happen. <3

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ꨄ HOW ARE YOU GOING TO LOOK BY THE END OF THIS YEAR? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Princess of Swords, Princess of Coins, Seven of Coins, THE TOWER XVII, Five of Wands and THE CHARIOT VII}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [princess of china by coldplay featuring rihanna, just for me by pinkpantheress and stargirl interlude by the weeknd featuring lana del rey].

♱ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 is a very interesting spread because it shows that the people who picked this pile are going to rock people's world by the end of this year. for some reason i am getting that you could have a pout, or your lips will look very pretty too. it'll be one of the features that complete your look, it could do it already but by the end of this year you will be more aware of it. people will be very drawn to your appearance, prepare for moments of people obviously staring at you as if you cannot see them.

♱ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 will be very naturally beautiful, and you could lean onto your more youthful look that enhances everything. people who picked this pile might've fallen into the trap of over-doing your make-up or your appearance just to realise that minimal things for you can do the work as well. it does not mean that you have to lessen your layers if you do like to layer, i am just saying for those who might over do it because they think less on them is not enough. the cards are saying you're blind and you will notice how much you did not see yourself by the end of this year.

♱ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 are going to be a looker, and you might tap into neutral/muted colours as well, there could be something contradictory with how you style yourself but it could still match very well. but i do think you are going to have a crazy glow up, i know i keep on saying this for this pile but people are going to STAREE at you by the end of this year, this pile is giving strong bombshell energy especially with this section having the tower and the chariot. your appearance is going to make people very confused because its like a "whoa, where did you come from?" type of situation but the problem is, you've always been here.

♱ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 i am also getting is that your fashion style and how you look could be opposite, for example some people might expect you to go for a cute aesthetic because you're timid or you look innocent but you go for colours that are more bold and cuts that are sharp, but it will compliment you because it gives you a standout character trope. the way you are going to look by the end of this year, people would feel like you are going somewhere as if the neighbourhood you're in currently will not be where you remain forever, anytime soon.

♱ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 3 sevens in this section [Seven of Coins, The Tower 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 and The Chariot 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧] and in the interpretations of others it usually means something metaphysical and for this context it could manifest into you being someone who looks ethereal. when people look at you they would think you actually embody what a glow-up is. people who picked this spread are definitely going to make people feel a type of way, they would want to compliment you but they would just be reminded on how they don't actually do anything to make themselves look like the person they want to be.

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❦ PILE THREE

❦ HOW OTHERS SEE YOUR BEAUTY? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {THE BIRTH 0, Six of Cups, Four of Swords, Princess of Wands, JUSTICE XI and THE MAGICIAN I}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [crystal by stevie nicks, pocketful of sunshine by natasha bedingfield and i dont know how to end by zella day].

❦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 likely have a type of beauty that is seen as very youthful and bright to people, it could be a neotenous face you could have that people go crazy about. and what i am also picking up on is that people who have this face structure might not realise they have it. i am also picking up on the fact that you likely dont realise people going insane over your face-structure because you're too into what you are doing. you're annoyingly pretty to people, it's one of those ones where your make-up is like vaseline and mascara, or just very minimal.

❦ 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 see your beauty as something that is very relaxed as well, its the type of face that is beautiful in motion and in stillness. you could also have an exhausted type of beauty, but i am leaning onto the idea of your face being youthful and having a naturally relaxed pout that people tend to love and even do surgery for. for other people who picked this pile this spread talks of you being someone who could have an elegance and beauty that is wondering all the time, your eyes could be starry to people who then think that you are an individual who has much trust in themself.

❦ 𝐢 personally think that people could see your beauty to be very princess/fairy like, there's something really cute about your nose as well. people could think that you are someone who also knows how to dress in a way that compliments your beauty. the four of swords and princess of wands being near each other even implies that what makes you prettier to them is that you look nice in many things. your beauty is even spoken about as well, people could look at you then each other in a look of agreement.

❦ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 word pretty keeps on coming up in my mind, you could have a feature that is very balanced too, or it could be everything on your face matching with each other. even if you could have a neotenous face, there's still a spark that makes people think you have a strong personality to match. you could also have a look that appears cheeky to other people, i do think that there are those that even want to come up to you and tell you of your beauty but something could be stopping them from saying it.

❦ 𝐢𝐭𝐬 a very magical face in my opinion, like its the face that suits many things. like people would love to see you in different aesthetics, and this makes me think that there could be people who put you on a pedestal for it or just treat you as something to look at and this could point to why others dont come up to you, its not really a compliment to be objectified though. people have much desire about your beauty, and as the magician is known to have all suits this means that others might think you have it all.

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❦ HOW TO GAIN MORE CONFIDENCE? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Eight of Wands, Eight of Coins, Queen of Coins, Five of Coins, Three of Cups and THE STAR XVII}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [devil may cry by the weeknd, perfect stranger by fka twigs and '03 bonnie & clyde by jay-z featuring beyonce].

❦ 𝐢 think the people who picked this pile are already on the path of becoming confident, of course there's going to be other things that could still need work on. but you need to remember your life story does not involve you becoming a perfect person but someone who is comfortable in their own skin. the people who picked this spread just need to remember you're exciting, and your confidence could involve more of your social place in people's lives and that could connect to how you see yourself.

❦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 need to remember that if you are not going to be in certain groups you want to be in, it wont be because of your looks it could be because you need to start putting yourself in orbits that balance you. start caring for yourself more than you pour into other people, you could be someone who is scared about the idea of being disliked for choosing yourself, but choosing yourself more often will make you see yourself in a different light.

❦ 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 who picked this pile also need to start loving their natural face too, even if i said that people who picked this pile are already on the way of feeling more whole to themselves, there could be mini things you do or believe in that can make your situation worse. even if the eight of swords is not here, the energy here still reminds me of the behaviour of putting yourself in situations you can easily get out of. take care of your body and have a well-balanced diet that does not hurt you but makes you feel energised and completely yourself.

❦ 𝐛𝐮𝐭 overall, i personally think what is making the people here down is truly the environment you are in, you are someone who is supposed to behaving fun and when you're having fun you're more in touch with your self-security and how beautiful you are. once again, its reminding you that your beauty and your confidence is not coming from what other people are saying or doing to you but is coming from what you are doing for yourself.

❦ 𝟑 Eights being here [Eight of Wands, Eight of Coins and The Star 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧] shows that you could be someone who is used to getting cold feet when trying to help yourself with your confidence or anything but in this circumstance those 3 Eights embody the energy of the moment you start to feel more in tune with your body, your skin and your confidence you'll begin to lock into and understanding your aesthetic and your beauty more. you'll comprehend that your beauty is something that is supposed to stick out and not be the same as what society tells you.

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❦ HOW ARE YOU GOING TO LOOK BY THE END OF THIS YEAR? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Priestess of Swords, Ace of Wands, THE MAGICIAN I, Priestess of Wands, Queen of Swords and Nine of Cups}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [locked out of heaven by bruno mars, excitement by trippie redd and if it's lovin' that you want].

❦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 are going to look very dashing [but please remember that this outcome will be achieved if you put the effort, dont do nothing and expect to be transformed immediately], there could be something rebellious looking about you in way that you could be wearing outfits that make you look intimidating to others. very "you cannot sit next to me" type of energy. your face will be fierce and striking, people who picked this pile could be leaning onto an edgier and cutting aesthetic and even ways of doing their make-up.

❦ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 is the sexy intimidating pile. you would look like someone who knows how to have fun but the type of fun that could be considered the "bad influence" or the type of person who's going to rock your world and leave you alone afterwards. when people see you they might think you are the type of person to not stay in someone's life long, so with how you are going to look like in the end, it could make people want to hold onto you tightly.

❦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 are going to look very deadly, like a walking red flag to people, and even a black flag. you would appear as temptation to those who are not even supposed to be looking your way. so i wouldnt be surprised if you could get into a one-sided conflict with people without even knowing. you would have an exciting look to you, when people see you they might do a double take. the word "dirty" keeps on appearing in my mind and this could be because a lot of people would have very 18+ thoughts about you.

❦ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 the cards are saying is that you are going to look like a bad bitch, it reminds me of the megan fox archetype [you are not going to look like her just a similar protoype]. when you step into the room people will basically sit up straight, you are the type of person people dont want to be ugly around because your beauty is going to be something that will make other people very aware of themselves. with there being 2 Priestesses [Priestess of Swords and Priestess of Wands] this means that there'll be people from your past seeing you and being blown away from what they are seeing.

❦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 are going to look like the person many people want but cannot have, future you will have an edginess to your allure that causes people to take a step back. it will make people jump to conclusions and think that you already have a significant other or a fat roster. im hearing that many people here will be looking like "sex on a stick" people would be looking at you more often and want to pamper you with attention but do remember boundaries, just because you feel hotter does not mean you should allow people to treat you in a way that's harmful to your limits.

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goth♱

[gothicada]

ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ ɪꜱ ꜱᴇᴇɴ

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫.

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THE PILES

ꨄ PILE ONE

ꨄ HOW OTHERS SEE YOUR BEAUTY? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {ARES IV, STRENGTH VIII, THE CHARIOT VII, THE STAR XVII, Seven of Swords and JUSTICE XI}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [moments like these by beauty's confusion, more than a feeling by boston and whenever, wherever by shakira].

ꨄ 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 think your beauty is dominant, like its the type of beauty that is THERE. undeniable type of beauty, it is the type of allure that has other people glance at each other with a knowing look on their face. you could also be someone who notices the reactions other people have when they see you they feel like they have to collect themselves together and sit up straight. your beauty screams power to people even if you cannot see it yourself.

ꨄ 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 people could think you have the type of look that has you swimming in money by the end of the year. im seeing that other people find your beauty the type to be bought and not in a weird way, bought in a context of people wanting you for their magazines, photoshoots or to be around them. that is the type of elegance you have, other people want to be around you because of how strong your face card is, it might sound like i am repeating myself but this is the energy people have when they are looking at you, you have a champion's beauty.

ꨄ 𝐢'𝐦 going to sound like im complimenting you and kissing your ass all the time but this could be how people behave when you are not there. your type of beauty is spoken about to others, it could even be shared and celebrated if you post yourself. people could find your physical appearance to be very divine and pleasing to look at, if you wonder why people could be staring at you all the time it is likely because of how piercing your beauty is. it stands out like genuinely, the rest of the cards here are Major Arcanas instead of the Seven of Coins and i think that mirrors how strong people think your beauty is.

ꨄ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 have the type of look that has people stare, and when people see you they know that you are going to be beautiful forever, like you would age like fine wine. there's something about your skin people would like a lot too. there's 3 Sevens [The Chariot 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧, The Star 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 and Seven of Coins] and this can mean that other people find your beauty to be really divine, or very spiritual. you could have a look to you that makes people consider the idea that you are someone who could practice stuff that enhances your look.

ꨄ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 if you dont, this spread is saying that your beauty is so intense, that people think you're doing spells. your beauty is balanced, you might not see it but others consider your look to be something that fits on your face perfectly, and would see you to be someone who is a sight for sore eyes. your beauty is something others stare at and glance at each other because they're both seeing the same thing, its the silent look that says a thousand words.

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ꨄ HOW TO GAIN MORE CONFIDENCE? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {ARES IV, Queen of Coins, Six of Swords, Ten of Wands, Two of Swords and Eight of Coins}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [crazy in love by beyonce featuring jay-z, l'amour toujours and the spins by mac miller featuring empire of the sun].

ꨄ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 need to stop gaining your confidence from outside sources, like yes this is a beauty reading, but anyone can be interested in a beauty/confidence reading and still not do the shadow work you are supposed to be doing that makes you remember who you are. i see with these cards that majority of the people here are working on their confidence, they are transitioning towards an era where they are taking off the burdens that was put by other people, buy stuff that you think is cute, service yourself instead of others.

ꨄ 𝐠𝐨 where you are loved, because even if validation from the self-core is important, so is the environment you are in. if you are in a environment where it could be hostile all the time this can make self-internalise more of you anger and frustration which is a human thing to do but the spread speaks of you to be someone who drowns in those insecure emotions so having an anchor or something that reminds you who you are! the two of swords also represents the idea that people who picked this pile likely are in denial of their own presence and charm.

ꨄ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 could also be someone who carries your own burdens all the time while being an open-ear for other people. there's nothing wrong with doing that, but if you put yourself in a cycle of being that person and dodging any possibilities of receiving help that can heal you and face your beauty you could accidentally lean into a spiral of thinking that no one is going to be there for you...because you dont open the door for people helping you! ARES at the front implies that you can be very hyper-independent because you are used to, it does not need to be like that anymore.

ꨄ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 could also be something about yourself you can take for granted and this can be one of the major things that is a key to you not only seeing your beauty but feel your confidence from the inside! i even see the possibility of you being the type of person who procrastinates so if you decide you are going to start trying to journal, you could be the type to push it back because you could be scared facing yourself and actually looking at your insecurity, pride and the ego that stops you from facing your flaws.

ꨄ 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 who picked this pile could also have a thing for being in denial, you keep on moving as if pretending your flaws do not exist will make the actual problem cease to endure but that is never going to be the case because you'll run into a situation where something that triggers the insecurity to crawl back into your heart and mind. plus, give yourself standards to work on but dont put too much of a burden on your shoulders and remember you are a human and not a robot.

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ꨄ HOW ARE YOU GOING TO LOOK BY THE END OF THIS YEAR? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {LOVERS VI, Seven of Cups, Ace of Wands, THE DEVIL XV, Five of Wands and Queen of Coins}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [sour switchblade by elita, amour assassin by fally ipupa and come over by aaliyah].

ꨄ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 cards say that you are going to look absolutely beautiful, you'd either still not be able to see it [don't worry feeling confident is a process do not rush yourself] there is something from within that'll make you glow and look balanced. your beauty would be harmonious, instead of following trends you would be wearing stuff that will not only make sense for your face and your body but will also make sense for your soul. by the end of this year you would feel like you are becoming the butterfly that is crawling out of the cocoon, so even if you might not feel like you are on 100% you will still feel like you are going somewhere.

ꨄ 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 who picked this pile are going to be very dreamy looking, you will even feel the eyes of other people stare and it could put you off, it could make you feel uncomfortable in the beginning, especially for the people who might not be used to the attention of other people. but just so you know, that is definitely going to change and you might even feel the shift. i see the possibility that you could even try wearing clothes that are more revealing, some of you might've had a shame of wearing exposing clothes in the past because of how you were raised but there's a wide possibility of you growing out of those restrictive personality.

ꨄ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 could also be leaning onto a more sultry appearance, darker colours, focusing on your eyes. growing your eyelashes or doing different eye make-up that frame your face really well. you would have the type of beauty that looks very two-faced, people might jump to conclusions about you being a red-flag type of gorgeous and with how these cards look like it could even be a black flag. there might be a feature that stands out and it could be a body feature, even though sexualisation is something that happens to many people, the theme of it is prominent here, and what im trying to say is that a sexualised feature of yours already will become more developed by the end of the year you're reading this on.

ꨄ 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 will ooze out of the people who pick this pile, this could make you attract shallow people but if you are someone who wants to have fun by also embracing your sexuality throughout your new-found confidence so be it. you would feel like you are able to experience things in life because of how you are going to look. on the other hand, some of the people who picked this pile could be obsessed with how they look or they might be obsessing with the end outcome of something whether it could be exercise, getting better at make-up or listening to subliminals. you people are going to be very devoted to your appearance.

ꨄ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 2 fives here [Five of Coins and the Devil 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧] and usually this does speak of conflict, but in this context it could mean having a look that appears "unfaithful" like people who pick this pile are going to look like a cheat to others. it might sound like a stretch, but the look you'll be embodying by the end of this year will personify by the end of this year will represent not a "unhinged not knowing how to dress" type of person but someone who can put contrary styles together but still appear as put together. you are going to look both Divine and Demoniac, but there would also be a soft comfort look you will have on your face despite looking two-faced which could be another reason why people might not know how to manage you.

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♱ PILE TWO

♱ HOW OTHERS SEE YOUR BEAUTY? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {King of Wands, Ten of Wands, Six of Swords, THE BIRTH 0, THE STAR XVII and Ten of Coins}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [diary by alicia keys featuring tony! toni! tone! and jermaine, track 10 by charli xcx and ride it by jay sean].

♱ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 people see your beauty for the first time they feel like they are really taken someone, they likely do think you have this dark but also fresh beauty. the king of wands usually implies someone's beauty dominates the room it is in and with the ten of wands besides it. it means that you have a type of elegance that impacts people. though you could also have this tired or "i know have this" beauty that completes your depth.

♱ 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 the the first pile that was more of a beauty that mixes and can be very versatile, when i see the six of swords in this reading i see this in a perspective of people thinking you have a type of look where it feels like you just left something while still having your strength and willing to embrace something new. that is something that makes you very beauty besides from your looks, its the fact that you shine as something that wants to continue their story and that is inviting.

♱ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 have a prettiness that welcomes healing, your beauty is very abundant and the king and ten of wands being there implies that. the ten of wands does not always insinuate something negative in a beauty/confidence reading it could also mean something is heavy or too abundant for others to the point of it being a problem for them and even you. the ten of coins being here is the cherry on top, especially because its an art the depicts helen of troy holding a mirror with Aphrodite sculpted on the back, and that story in the image says enough.

♱ 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 it is because i compliment too much, but my cards are really praising this pile not like the other piles dont deserve praise but people who picked this pile, it might've taken you a long time to realise your beauty and your self-value and this pile wants to remind you how bright and refreshing it is for the people around you. you could have a beauty that is so new and unique, but not unique is a new way its more of an allure of "how comes i've never seen this before", that it is just associated with you and people might not be able to look away from you because of it.

♱ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 have a model type of beauty, or its the type of beauty that used to get models scouted in the past. that uniquely beautiful that if you were alive and thriving that era you would be put on the runway. there's 2 tens [Ten of Wands and Ten of Coins] and this means HEAVY face card for people, its genuinely too much for others. on the other hand it could also mean you might change people's types as well, the birth and the star in this reading confirms that too. the birth in this deck represents the birth of venus.

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♱ HOW TO GAIN MORE CONFIDENCE? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {JUSTICE XI, Three of Swords, Queen of Wands, Nine of Wands, Ten of Coins and Seven of Cups}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [heaven by bryan adams, andromeda by weyes blood and angel by shaggy featuring rayvon].

♱ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 shufflemancy for this pile is very sweet, because it means that you are someone who needs to face the heartbreak you've been through to understand the pain in your heart. because the pain of the words that were spoken to you, is something you likely still carry and this is not to insult you but to remind you that those words were shared to dim your light. the queen of wands is in this reading and when the queen of wands is in a reading via confidence it means that you have a natural light that cannot be entirely taken away.

♱ 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 with the nine of wands being there, it means the spark is still there you just need to get on the lane that helps you re-connect with it. you need to reverse what have been said to you and say it to yourself, remember you are beautiful, creative, wonderful and well deserving to be in the space you currently are in now. dont put too much pressure on how you look because that is something that makes you drown back into your insecurity again, easier said than done but the fact that you are moving along with the process is what matters.

♱ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 people who picked this pile are likely people who are already almost there, to the version of themselves that is going to become full again and take part of the self-love path that involves your imaginative and formative destiny that helps you feel powerful. i see the possibility of you guys likely being the type to keep everything in, when you feel like you are ready to receive help go receive help because not everyone can just step out of their bed and confidently ask for help from other people. however, this spread is pushing me to actually make you guys remember how much you have carried yourself to where you are now.

♱ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 part of the pile is more of the cards wanting to realise you already have that confidence, now it wants you to find courage in putting that confidence and courage into work but once again, baby steps if you cannot leap now. however, what i find funny is that this spread is saying that because you have been in a grey moment in your life you have forgotten that you are the baddest bitch on the block, i dont even care if it sounds corny. life's trials and tribulations have put a burden on your shoulders because of the issues other people could've projected onto you but what the energy is saying now, the pressure and insecurities of other people are not for yours to carry!

♱ 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 if you continue to carry them, the more you forget what makes you special. the troubles of other people's blends with yours and you forget your way. people who pick this pile might help people a lot which is kind, but take a rest and give gratitude to yourself and once you do you'll feel your energy return back to you, it might take some time but it will happen. <3

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ꨄ HOW ARE YOU GOING TO LOOK BY THE END OF THIS YEAR? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Princess of Swords, Princess of Coins, Seven of Coins, THE TOWER XVII, Five of Wands and THE CHARIOT VII}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [princess of china by coldplay featuring rihanna, just for me by pinkpantheress and stargirl interlude by the weeknd featuring lana del rey].

♱ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 is a very interesting spread because it shows that the people who picked this pile are going to rock people's world by the end of this year. for some reason i am getting that you could have a pout, or your lips will look very pretty too. it'll be one of the features that complete your look, it could do it already but by the end of this year you will be more aware of it. people will be very drawn to your appearance, prepare for moments of people obviously staring at you as if you cannot see them.

♱ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 will be very naturally beautiful, and you could lean onto your more youthful look that enhances everything. people who picked this pile might've fallen into the trap of over-doing your make-up or your appearance just to realise that minimal things for you can do the work as well. it does not mean that you have to lessen your layers if you do like to layer, i am just saying for those who might over do it because they think less on them is not enough. the cards are saying you're blind and you will notice how much you did not see yourself by the end of this year.

♱ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 are going to be a looker, and you might tap into neutral/muted colours as well, there could be something contradictory with how you style yourself but it could still match very well. but i do think you are going to have a crazy glow up, i know i keep on saying this for this pile but people are going to STAREE at you by the end of this year, this pile is giving strong bombshell energy especially with this section having the tower and the chariot. your appearance is going to make people very confused because its like a "whoa, where did you come from?" type of situation but the problem is, you've always been here.

♱ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 i am also getting is that your fashion style and how you look could be opposite, for example some people might expect you to go for a cute aesthetic because you're timid or you look innocent but you go for colours that are more bold and cuts that are sharp, but it will compliment you because it gives you a standout character trope. the way you are going to look by the end of this year, people would feel like you are going somewhere as if the neighbourhood you're in currently will not be where you remain forever, anytime soon.

♱ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 3 sevens in this section [Seven of Coins, The Tower 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 and The Chariot 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧] and in the interpretations of others it usually means something metaphysical and for this context it could manifest into you being someone who looks ethereal. when people look at you they would think you actually embody what a glow-up is. people who picked this spread are definitely going to make people feel a type of way, they would want to compliment you but they would just be reminded on how they don't actually do anything to make themselves look like the person they want to be.

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❦ PILE THREE

❦ HOW OTHERS SEE YOUR BEAUTY? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {THE BIRTH 0, Six of Cups, Four of Swords, Princess of Wands, JUSTICE XI and THE MAGICIAN I}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [crystal by stevie nicks, pocketful of sunshine by natasha bedingfield and i dont know how to end by zella day].

❦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 likely have a type of beauty that is seen as very youthful and bright to people, it could be a neotenous face you could have that people go crazy about. and what i am also picking up on is that people who have this face structure might not realise they have it. i am also picking up on the fact that you likely dont realise people going insane over your face-structure because you're too into what you are doing. you're annoyingly pretty to people, it's one of those ones where your make-up is like vaseline and mascara, or just very minimal.

❦ 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 see your beauty as something that is very relaxed as well, its the type of face that is beautiful in motion and in stillness. you could also have an exhausted type of beauty, but i am leaning onto the idea of your face being youthful and having a naturally relaxed pout that people tend to love and even do surgery for. for other people who picked this pile this spread talks of you being someone who could have an elegance and beauty that is wondering all the time, your eyes could be starry to people who then think that you are an individual who has much trust in themself.

❦ 𝐢 personally think that people could see your beauty to be very princess/fairy like, there's something really cute about your nose as well. people could think that you are someone who also knows how to dress in a way that compliments your beauty. the four of swords and princess of wands being near each other even implies that what makes you prettier to them is that you look nice in many things. your beauty is even spoken about as well, people could look at you then each other in a look of agreement.

❦ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 word pretty keeps on coming up in my mind, you could have a feature that is very balanced too, or it could be everything on your face matching with each other. even if you could have a neotenous face, there's still a spark that makes people think you have a strong personality to match. you could also have a look that appears cheeky to other people, i do think that there are those that even want to come up to you and tell you of your beauty but something could be stopping them from saying it.

❦ 𝐢𝐭𝐬 a very magical face in my opinion, like its the face that suits many things. like people would love to see you in different aesthetics, and this makes me think that there could be people who put you on a pedestal for it or just treat you as something to look at and this could point to why others dont come up to you, its not really a compliment to be objectified though. people have much desire about your beauty, and as the magician is known to have all suits this means that others might think you have it all.

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❦ HOW TO GAIN MORE CONFIDENCE? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Eight of Wands, Eight of Coins, Queen of Coins, Five of Coins, Three of Cups and THE STAR XVII}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [devil may cry by the weeknd, perfect stranger by fka twigs and '03 bonnie & clyde by jay-z featuring beyonce].

❦ 𝐢 think the people who picked this pile are already on the path of becoming confident, of course there's going to be other things that could still need work on. but you need to remember your life story does not involve you becoming a perfect person but someone who is comfortable in their own skin. the people who picked this spread just need to remember you're exciting, and your confidence could involve more of your social place in people's lives and that could connect to how you see yourself.

❦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 need to remember that if you are not going to be in certain groups you want to be in, it wont be because of your looks it could be because you need to start putting yourself in orbits that balance you. start caring for yourself more than you pour into other people, you could be someone who is scared about the idea of being disliked for choosing yourself, but choosing yourself more often will make you see yourself in a different light.

❦ 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 who picked this pile also need to start loving their natural face too, even if i said that people who picked this pile are already on the way of feeling more whole to themselves, there could be mini things you do or believe in that can make your situation worse. even if the eight of swords is not here, the energy here still reminds me of the behaviour of putting yourself in situations you can easily get out of. take care of your body and have a well-balanced diet that does not hurt you but makes you feel energised and completely yourself.

❦ 𝐛𝐮𝐭 overall, i personally think what is making the people here down is truly the environment you are in, you are someone who is supposed to behaving fun and when you're having fun you're more in touch with your self-security and how beautiful you are. once again, its reminding you that your beauty and your confidence is not coming from what other people are saying or doing to you but is coming from what you are doing for yourself.

❦ 𝟑 Eights being here [Eight of Wands, Eight of Coins and The Star 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧] shows that you could be someone who is used to getting cold feet when trying to help yourself with your confidence or anything but in this circumstance those 3 Eights embody the energy of the moment you start to feel more in tune with your body, your skin and your confidence you'll begin to lock into and understanding your aesthetic and your beauty more. you'll comprehend that your beauty is something that is supposed to stick out and not be the same as what society tells you.

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❦ HOW ARE YOU GOING TO LOOK BY THE END OF THIS YEAR? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Priestess of Swords, Ace of Wands, THE MAGICIAN I, Priestess of Wands, Queen of Swords and Nine of Cups}.

shuffled songs ⟶ [locked out of heaven by bruno mars, excitement by trippie redd and if it's lovin' that you want].

❦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 are going to look very dashing [but please remember that this outcome will be achieved if you put the effort, dont do nothing and expect to be transformed immediately], there could be something rebellious looking about you in way that you could be wearing outfits that make you look intimidating to others. very "you cannot sit next to me" type of energy. your face will be fierce and striking, people who picked this pile could be leaning onto an edgier and cutting aesthetic and even ways of doing their make-up.

❦ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 is the sexy intimidating pile. you would look like someone who knows how to have fun but the type of fun that could be considered the "bad influence" or the type of person who's going to rock your world and leave you alone afterwards. when people see you they might think you are the type of person to not stay in someone's life long, so with how you are going to look like in the end, it could make people want to hold onto you tightly.

❦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 are going to look very deadly, like a walking red flag to people, and even a black flag. you would appear as temptation to those who are not even supposed to be looking your way. so i wouldnt be surprised if you could get into a one-sided conflict with people without even knowing. you would have an exciting look to you, when people see you they might do a double take. the word "dirty" keeps on appearing in my mind and this could be because a lot of people would have very 18+ thoughts about you.

❦ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 the cards are saying is that you are going to look like a bad bitch, it reminds me of the megan fox archetype [you are not going to look like her just a similar protoype]. when you step into the room people will basically sit up straight, you are the type of person people dont want to be ugly around because your beauty is going to be something that will make other people very aware of themselves. with there being 2 Priestesses [Priestess of Swords and Priestess of Wands] this means that there'll be people from your past seeing you and being blown away from what they are seeing.

❦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 are going to look like the person many people want but cannot have, future you will have an edginess to your allure that causes people to take a step back. it will make people jump to conclusions and think that you already have a significant other or a fat roster. im hearing that many people here will be looking like "sex on a stick" people would be looking at you more often and want to pamper you with attention but do remember boundaries, just because you feel hotter does not mean you should allow people to treat you in a way that's harmful to your limits.

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[lilianne-tarot]

𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬 <𝟑 .ᐟ

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˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟏 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

HEYYY PILE ONE!! let’s start our reading! ~~~~

HMMM WOWW OKIEE!! as i begin the reading, it’s clear ASFFFF that this person is gonna “play with your mind”. okay, i don’t mean playing with your feelings, but “playing with your MIND.” 😭 what i mean is, when you start liking them, you're gonna feel this insane sense of euphoria around them and you're gonna start acting a little bit... uhm... let's just say crazy (you better believe they feel the same, they are just better at hiding it compared to you 😀👆🏻... y'all are terrible at it, i'm sorry).

OKAY SO, basically, i think y'all are the type to start overthinking wayyy too much once you're in love. at the same time, y'all are also ecstatic as hell, walking on air, beaming with joy and everything. 😭

it's like: "OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE I AM IN LOVE. THEY ARE SO GORGEOUS. SO SWEET. AGHHH FKDNDF. okay but wait... what if... they think i'm weird? 👁👄👁" THIS contradiction!!! this is exactly what i mean when i say they're gonna play with your mind. i feel like this is something most of you already experience when you're in love, but when THIS person comes into the picture, it's gonna be MUCH MORE INTENSE. and the hilarious part is 😭 this person is gonna notice it STRAIGHT AWAY. the MOMENT you start malfunctioning in front of them, they have already seen you, lmaoo!! and this person is no less mischievous cuz they are gonna tease the fucking HELL OUT OF YOU!

one particular thing i'm seeing is, if this person is taller than you, or if you're interested in taller men, they might have this habit of constantly hovering behind you, standing over your shoulder, walking right behind you, just existing in your personal space for absolutely no reason 😭 if it's someone shorter, or a girl who is shorter or the same height as you, she'll constantly hold your hand, or interlock your arms/fingers!! and nah, because this would be such a turn-on for you 😭 i can literally hear some of y'all screaming AAAAAAAAA (a small request, pls do that internally ✋🏻). also, they wouldn't actually do this with just anyone. this feels very specific to the person they're ACTUALLY interested in, so dw cutie, they are NOT playing with your feelings!!!! the whole image is soooo cute OHMAGAWD.

a lil TMI: 🪄 so there was one time i was REALLY into this guy and we were in the same friend group, and whenever he came up to me or we had a proper interaction, my face would turn red. my girl bestie would notice it and later tell me how i was SOOOO pink and blushing stupidly. every single time i'd get defensive and be like, "it's MY blush stfuu" 😭 i genuinely couldn't believe i was blushing enough for OTHER people to notice. excuse me wot 🧍🏻‍♀️ i thought i was amazing at hiding my feelings? turns out i absolutely wasn't 🤓 the next time i wanted to make sure she wasn't joking or messing with me... well... she wasn't. later i found out he liked me too, but that's a story for another dayyy lmaooo))

so YESSS 😭💗 i'm seeing the same thing for y'all as well. not the exact same scenario, but that exact feeling of being completely exposed because your face is giving away EVERY SINGLE butterfly in your stomach. you guys are gonna look so stupidly, visibly in love!!! awwwieee 😭💗 good luck anyway, hehehehee.

before i even started pulling the actual cards, the energy was already INSANEEEE 😭😭

BUT now that i'm actually pulling the tarot cards, i can totally understand why i started this reading feeling all giggly and euphoric and weirdly excited for y'all, heheheh. because when these cards came out i was literally like: OHHHHHHH. YEAH. DAYUM. that explains EVERYTHING.

pile 1, can i just say something? y'all are actually SO FUCKN lucky with this person and it's kinda UNBELIEVABLE 😭💗 (this is one of those few times where i get jealous while doing a pac reading).

i don't usually talk about specific cards that much, but i HAVE to mention this because THE. HELL. your first cards were the emperor, the empress, and the lovers. THREE major arcana cards. and not only that, but THE EMPEROR AND THE EMPRESS TOGETHER??? side by side??? looking at each other??? in THIS economy??? 😭👆🏻

the thing about this person is that they don't do things for you impulsively. they actually think A LOT before they do anything for you, because to them, you're someone they GREATLY value, someone they don't want to mess things up with.

and OHMYGODDDD the phrase "princess treatment" has been sitting in my head ever since i started this reading. regardless of your gender, regardless of the relationship dynamic you prefer, this person is absolutely the type to put you on a pedestal, in a "i genuinely think you're the coolest person alive" kind of way.

i am not kidding, their admiration for you is actually embarrassing 😭💀 (if you're an introvert, babe, all the best for the rest of your life because idk what to sayyyyy 😭)

like whenever they read a beautiful poem, they think of you.

whenever they watch a movie and fall in love with a character, they think of you.

whenever they hear a lyric that immediately makes them go...

oh, and they talk SO highly of you 😭 whenever you come up around their friends or family, they somehow find a way to turn it into a conversation about how amazing you are. BELIEVE me when i say that their friends may actually get SICK of hearing about you 😭 at some point their friends are literally gonna be like, "WE GET ITTTTT 😭 YOU'RE IN LOVE." they might even tease them for how much they brag about you, and i'm not even seeing your fs BUDGING at that 🫠 they're more like, "yeah, so what?" 😗 (YUP. even making the same pouty face, ughhhh)

marriage is DEFINITELYYY written for you both. i mean OFC we're doing a FUTURE SPOUSE reading, so marriage is obviously gonna be there 😭 BUT what i'm tryna say is that this person wouldn't really have any second thoughts about you. EVER.

SO marriage doesn't feel like some difficult decision they need years to make. once they're sure it's you, they're GOOD.

and this person would be MORE THAN HAPPY to do whatever you ask of them. you ask them for coffee and it's already on the table. you suggest the idea of a vacation, and the bookings are already done. you ask them for an impromptu night drive to your fav 24/7 store to get your fav ice cream in the MIDDLE of the night, and they are already in the car, reclining your seat for your max comfort. you ask them to fuck off and they're already out of the room. okay, that last one was a joke, lmaooo 😭😭 this person hates disappointing you. HATES it. reminds me of the song, "walk 'em like a dog, walk 'em like a dog" (except... in bed, you better believe it's TOTALLY THE OPPOSITE 🫷🏼😃🫸🏼 and you're entirely at their mercy, sweetie, hehehe).

i also feel like this person is more experienced than you when it comes to relationships, so they know how to treat their partner. not that their past is gonna bother you or anything, honestly, their exes don't even feel important in this reading. what shocks me more is looking at the kind of person they were before meeting you and then seeing how deeply they end up loving you. THAT'S what's amusing me 😭 because wow, it reminds me of the song "ALL OF THE GIRLS YOU HAVE LOVED BEFORE" by taylor swift. that's most probably how you're gonna feel.

okayyy, now these are gonna be a bit more specific, but this is still a general reading, so take what resonates. your person is gonna be SOME NEXT LEVEL extrovert 😭 ESPECIALLY when it comes to expressing their love for you. whether it's to you directly or to someone else, THEY. ARE. NOT. BACKING. OFF. i'm seeing them reacting sooo cutely but also dramatically sometimes 😭 sometimes you're gonna blush, sometimes you're gonna wanna crawl into a hole and disappear from embarrassment 😭 (though it totally depends on whether you're in private or public. for example, imagine showing them your outfit and they immediately put their hand over their chest and pretend to faint. THIS is the typa shit this person is gonna do 😭)

okay, i also feel like some of y'all really enjoy partying or just going out and having fun? if yes, then your person is accompanying you EVERYWHERE. this is the type of person who'll hit the dance floor whether they know anyone there or not. and guess who's getting dragged along with them? YOU 😀👆🏻 alsooo, this person would NOT hold back when it comes to physical affection in public 😀. they're very comfortable with pda, things like kissing your hand/lips, leaning their head on your shoulder, and always touching you somehow. and even having quickies with you whenever they can 🤭

this person reminds me of that tiktok where a son asks his dad who's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen and the dad goes, "your mom. she's 10/10." and the son says, "dad, mom is a 6 at best." and then the dad immediately goes, "YOU TAKE THAT BACK 👹" THAT'S the energy your fs gives off when it comes to admiring you 😭

the way they LOOK at you... ohmagod. it's sooooo scorpio + libra coded (they could also have major placements there). they're SOOO good at eye contact. THEY DO IT ON PURPOSE 😭 (yk how i mentioned this earlier). even if y'all are with friends, family, or literally ANYONE, this person is STILL gonna look at you with the exact same eyes they'd give you during sex 😭 and trust me, your cheeks are gonna burn OFF. these are the types of couples who constantly get told, "okayyyy get a room."

for a lot of you, i'm seeing this person has some kind of creative hobby or maybe even works in a creative field. for most, i'm getting music or writing. i can see them playing instruments for you. they could do things like singing, dancing, or writing for you. it'll depend on the person ofc, but there is DEFINITELY something artistic about them.

half the time they'll do it for you in front of other people too, while STILL looking directly at you. i'm actually hearing a very melodious tone throughout this entire reading, it's been there since the beginning. so that could be a sign as well!!

Soo yes we are done with your reading!!! haha it was truly soooo fun!!!

let me know what you thought about the reading and how it resonates with y'all!!! thank you SOO MUCH for reading till here angel! i hope you have an amazing day/night! byee untill then!! 💖 <3

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˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟐 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Heyyy pile 2!! let's START the reading!!! ~~

your fs, my lovelies, is HOT. cherry red HOT. a late-night drive kinda HOT. the weeknd songs kinda HOT. chase atlantic kinda HOT. (these were the songs that played in my mind as i started doing this reading 🫡 ❤️‍🔥 SPECIFICALLY 'into it' and 'blinding lights' came into my mind!!)

for a lot of y'all, i am seeing that your future spouse might physically look a lot like the actor who played the character of logan in off-campus.

i see that your fs isn’t necessarily that “social” or “extroverted,” but somehow they know the perfect person for every task. it's mostly because they possess great conversation skills and are actually naturally VERY KIND! 🙂‍↕️ their kindness isn’t that performative kind. they don’t ever force it. they are just naturally a softie at heart, yk 🫠 AND that’s what i am seeing, WHY you’re gonna fall for them. each time you see an act of kindness from them, you will end up being SOO utterly impressed 💗 (BUT BUT, their appearance is DEFINITELY gonna be the opposite case, hehe)

although they are naturally kind, sometimes their kindness would end up shaking your nervous system and your entire soul, basically 😭🙏🏻 for example, you are looking at them and admiring them, wayyy too deep into your own thoughts, all the flutes are playing inside your brain, and you're already picturing the wedding dress and everything, lmaooo 😭 thus, you are CLEARLY blushing and maybe not even blinking, and all of a sudden they notice you and now... they are wondering if you are sick or if something's wrong with you 🥲 this is just my example, by the way. and they're like, 'oh my god, are you sick?' and they are like touching your neck and your forehead to see if you're actually sick or something. and you're like, “huh- wot- uh- NO. I'M FINE. GOSH” 😂😭 and this small gesture just doubles your blushing 😭😭.

they are sooo unexpected, yet your heart can never be prepared!! for example, they’ll come up to you and say, “you look quiet today?” and now you're panicking, “I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE I WAS QUIETER 😭”. they might stand too close to you, and internally you’re like, “PLEASE BACK UP. NO WAIT DON'T.”

i'm not saying they are oblivious to your feelings, BUT they would end up doing things for you, out of love and care only, that would be SOOOO UNEXPECTED AND SOO OUT OF THE BLUE that each fucking time it would catch you off guard. but that would turn out to be so good for you 😭 when that moment passes, you are stomping your feet, pressing your lips to control the uncontrollable smile, and cupping your face, just thinking about what they did 😭💖✨ (yesss babe, i can totally picture you doing ALL of these whenever your person does something)

it's like everyday you wake up with the thought, 'okay, let's see what this person is gonna come up with today 🧍🏻‍♀️' lmaoooo

OH DEAR. can we just say that this person would be the best sex you've ever had? 😭 WHEW. sex with them is like, “i never knew I WAS capable of that????” it’s just SOOO electrifying, toe-curling, body-shakingly GOOD!! they would genuinely have MIND BLOWING skills too 😭 your first time with them? BABE. i don’t wanna spoil much here, but just know, you’re not gonna meet a hotter person for sex than them. end of discussion. every time you think about how your first time with them went, you’ll not behave like a normally functioning human, TRULYYY lmaooo. you’d scream, squeal, BLUSH (ofc DUHH), and start doing some wild things just out of pure excitement 😭

i am seeing that for a lot of y'all, your person is gonna have some kind of exotic traits. at least for where you have lived or the environment you are used to, they might have some physical traits that are gonna stand out. maybe a different ethnicity or nationality. and most likely something SOOOO divine about their eyes or hair?? if it’s a guy, then he’ll def have long hair!! GOSH. HANDSOME. (that’s an understatement btw)

i am hearing a particular lyric of i don't know which song, “saw you in my dreams... talking through our eyes... then we came close... took my heart away, away, away.” most definitely this lyric is not from just one song, but i can say THIS is how y'all have the initial phase of your rs?? OKAY. IT’S CLEAR NOW. SOOO, i am seeing that y'all might meet through work or school/college? it could be anything where you have to see them everyday. cuz i am seeing that after you interact for the first time, you’re gonna meet everyday, or at least “NOTICE” each other everyday and have an eye-contact-ship for a longggg time 🤭

their love language is mostly physical touch. that’s the top one, at least. the second one being expressing themselves through words? words of affirmation. initially, i am not really seeing them talking to you heart-to-heart or soul-to-soul, but they’ll still find ways to do it anyway!!! 😛 🫸🏻

tbh yk, they're accidentally attractive. i don't even know if that line makes sense, but i feel like they wouldn’t realize how much YOU ACTUALLY like them or are into them (although they might be losing their mind for you at their own pace too, but you lose your mind more than them!!). it could also be bcz you would realize your feelings before them? 😭 for example, they lean closer to hear you, you're BLUSHING. they touch your shoulder, you're BLUSHING. they compliment you, you're BLUSHING. they smile, you're BLUSHING. in the meantime, they are like, “you okay?😀👍”, but you, “oh yes, just had a cardiac arrest, but that’s fine 🥰🫶🏼” this was soooo funny even for me ISTG LMAOOO

also, something about their smell? your mind will notice it in a split second, even in the most crowded space. you would absolutely SWOON over their smell, the perfume they use, as well as their natural body smell!! their smell in itself could be one of your BIGGEST turn-ons!!

okayyy, next thing i'm seeing is that you and your person would have some kind of VERY peculiar subconscious connection. like, y'all would just... GET each other. before one person even says something, the other person already knows. before you even explain how you're feeling, somehow they've already picked up on it, and vice versa. it's honestly giving those couples who communicate through a single glance across the room 😭🙏🏻

because of this, i genuinely don't see a lot of miscommunication happening between you both. obviously y'all are human, so disagreements can happen, but not much “miscommunication.” they understand what you're trying to say even when you're doing a terrible job explaining it 😭 and it's funny because i feel like even your interests could end up overlapping in some way. it could be music, sports, movies, games, literally ANYTHING. maybe y'all already like similar things. but even if you don't? BABE. trust me when i say this person is gonna make it their mission to learn 😭

you would casually mention your favorite singer, favorite football team, favorite movie, favorite whatever, and suddenly this person is asking, 'wait, what do you like about them?', 'which album is your favorite?', 'who's your favorite player?', 'which season was the best one?'

and you're thinking they're just making conversation. NOPE. because next thing you know, they've spent HOURS researching it. DAYS. and that, too, voluntarily, nobody forced them!! they trulyyy want to be a part of something that makes YOU happy 😭💖 the amount of effort this person puts into knowing you is something that's gonna warm your heart over and over again. even years into the relationship, you'll still randomly catch yourself thinking, 'wait... you actually remembered that?' 😭 because they do. they remember. cuz they pay attention.

and i think what makes all of this even worse (for your poor blushing self) is that this person is SOOO unpredictable 😭 as i said before, they would do things you would NEVER expect them to do. for example, y'all are chilling and all of a sudden they're like, 'come with me.' and you're like, '...where?', and they go, 'i don't know. let's just go.' 😭😭😭

and now somehow you're in a completely different city, lmaoo. this person genuinely enjoys bringing excitement into your life. i think that's where a huge part of the attraction comes from. it's like every day you wake up wondering, 'okay... what is this person gonna do NOW?' 🧍🏻‍♀️ because being with them never feels boring. y'all genuinely enjoy each other's company. it's as if y'all are one of those couples where you can put them in an empty room with absolutely nothing to do and somehow they're still laughing 😭💖 those couples who become best friends first and lovers second. those couples who could spend hours together and still not want to leave. that's EXACTLY the energy i'm getting here for y'all 🫶🏻😭💖

so they would use letters. they would use words in written form to express their devotion and adoration for you. they would write long paragraphs to you through texts. i am seeing them actually POURING their heart out whenever they write something for you. i am also seeing letter writing. it might sound very unusual because we rarely use letters these days, so it's an unusual concept, right? but they actually still LOVESSS the concept of letters. the image of a pigeon came into my mind, a person holding a pigeon. so that kind of symbolizes how this person would also be very much into words and are amazing at using their words and expressing their adoration to you through words.

SO YES with that we are finallyy done with the readinggg!!! 💖

let me know what you thought about the reading and how it resonates with y'all!!! thank you SOO MUCH for reading till here angel! i hope you have an amazing day/night! byee untill then!! 💖 <3

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˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟑 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

HEYYYY PILE 3!!! OKAY LET’S BEGINNN!! 

omg alright, this feels like such an ethereal energy 😭 such a UNIQUEEE energyyyy!! it reminds me of enhypen because of how they feel “expensive” (rip to my fav group 🙂 miss u heeseung). okayy sooo i feel like this person has this thing where whatever they say becomes iconic, whatever they do, it becomes ICONIC!! so i am seeing that they also have some kind of “influence” over people because of that? they could be popular as well. and at least people look up to them or copy them, maybe? this reminds me of THE MOST PERFECT PERSON, nico rosberg, who is an ex-f1 driver, he was called britney by people (gawd, he was sooooo cool in his prime 😭😮‍💨 GURL, look HIM UP, you’ll realize what i am talking about!!). yk, they had that kind of swag, that coolness?

when i look into this person, i mean someone who's GENUINELY SOOO so outspoken in a very nice way. they are NOT mean. NOT AT ALL!! imo, people online these days declare mean behavior as coolness or uniqueness, and i’m like, no sweetie, you’re not a baddie, you’re just BAD 😭 🙏🏻 YOUR PERSON, they have that kind of energy, but they don't let someone else push them or, you know, smash them, they are quite free-spoken, i'd say? their APPEARANCE as well!! yesss ofccc!! i'm seeing you’re gonna find them superrrr attractive initially and maybe even be super turned on by their looks alone 🫠 (not blaming y'all at all).

this person is SOOOO straightforward that they're ABSOLUTELY gonna leave you speechless + shocked a few times. i don't think this is the kind of person you come across every day. they feel very refreshing in a way. they have this very direct way of approaching people they care about, and they care about you A LOTTTTT. that's one thing i keep seeing OVER and OVER again!! ykw, i keep seeing these very specific scenarios where your person would casually say something (especially during the initial stages of getting to know each other) and you're just gonna be like, "...excuse me? 👁👄👁" and trust me, whatever they say is gonna stay in your head for DAYS 😭 because whatever comes out of their mouth is gonna have you blushing for the next 10 business days STRAIGHT 😭 (minimum....).

and the thing is, YOU would already be attracted to them during the early phases. whether it's their appearance, their energy, or their personality, WTV IT IS, there's already attraction there. so when they casually drop one of their honest little comments??? BABE. GOOD LUCK 😭💗 (the whole vibe of how you’ll feel about their external vibes, how you see them, and even how people see them, also their personal “charisma” suits SOOOO perfectlyyy with the song 'feeling good' by michael buble, PARTICULARLY the first part, the whole beat drop, the energy etccc, from the lyrics “it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, and i’m feeling good” 🫡😭 IT’S SUCH A VIBEEE OMG ILOVEIT!)

the thing i personally like about this person, and you would too, is that they are very much a “no bullshit” kinda person when it comes to relationships. yk how nowadays there are approximately 5000 dating terms and somehow every week someone invents a new one, benching, breadcrumbing, ghosting, moonwalking, cartwheeling (okay, i made the last two up, but YOU GET MY POINT😭). at this point, u don't even know what's happening anymore. BUT your person really doesn’t care. they're more like, "i like you," "so let's date." THE END 😭 that's their whole thought process. it's so funny because y'all are TOTALLY different!! you’ll be making another pros-and-cons list because the first one wasn't detailed enough 😀👆🏻 whereas your person already said what they wanted to say and moved on with their day, and THAT difference between you two is gonna shock you so much 😭 because they're the type to speak their mind, while some of y'all... (and i say this with love 😭) will spend 10 days deciding whether saying something is a good idea, then another 10 days imagining every possible outcome. this person DOES. NOT. do that!

yk what i find the funniest while doing readings is how, when pulling cards, a few cards pop up abruptly enough that u feel like, “hmm, maybe not this one,” and put them back? and when you reshuffle, it comes up AGAIN 😭 it happened THRICEE with this pile lmaoo.

okay sooo, the very next thing i am seeing is that this person will ALWAYS bring you flowers!! might not sound so big, but trust me, their flower game is UNBEATABLE!!! 😌

 they are the type to bring you flowers every day, and might even notice the meaning of the flowers before buying them for you, so you'll alwaysss be excited for what flowers they are gonna bring you. the combination... i just feel like sometimes they’ll do it in front of other people as well (i can even see people getting jealous of how your partner treats you with utter admiration and adoration allll the damn time. these people could even be your friends, lmaoo). but tbh, they (your fs) aren't the type to EVER think twice before showing their affection to you, even if your entire family might be standing right there, lmaoo. basically, they are a golden retriever partner + an extremely charming person to everyone else.

your person has INSANEEE duality!! with you, they are the sweetest cutie pie everrrr, whereas with the rest of the world, they have this completely different side to them. if you see how BTS v is on stage? yess, that’s how they are with everyone!! and the funny thing is, i don't even think you're gonna see this softer side immediately. initially, what i am seeing is that you're mostly gonna see their charming side, their charismatic side, the side of them that already has you flustered enough 😀👆🏻 but thennnn, as you get closer to them and start seeing these little moments of vulnerability, these tiny affectionate habits they have, you're gonna be like, "WAIT... WHO IS THIS????" 😭

alsoooo ykw, this person reminds me of that ishowspeed sound 😭 the one where he goes, "AWWW... SO CUTE 🥺" THAT. that is literally the reaction i keep getting while looking at this energy because HOW are they this adorable sometimes, ahahaha 😀🫠 i was told you were charismatic and hot, nobody informed me that you were gonna be THIS cute as well 😭💀

and the thing is, public affection is a HUGE thing for them. HUGE. they surely do not hesitate when it comes to showing their affection to you in public 😀 they would hold your hand, lean on you, kiss your forehead, kiss your hand, randomly come stand next to you, put their arm around you, and do it all as if it's the most natural thing in the world because in their mind they're like, "well yeah ofccc, i adore them???" 😭

and GOODNESS, there is something sooo youthful about their energy as well. NOT immature, that's not what i mean. more like they get genuinely, reallyyy excited. sometimes yk when someone is being so cute that you get that sweet aggression feeling and you're like, AHHHHHHH 😭💗 THAT is how i see you feeling towards them sometimes (whereas, babe, they feel that way about you ALL THE TIME 😭).

like, being with you IS the excitement (yes, i’m DEFINITELY not jealous 😘). talking to you excites them. seeing you excites them. getting a text from you excites them. showing you random things excites them. you could literally be sitting there doing absolutely nothing and they're still looking at you like 😀💗

and trust me, when they start acting all excited and golden retriever coded around you, y'all are gonna be BLUSHINGGGG. like, i can literally see some of y'all smiling at your phone and trying to hide it from people 😭

and another thing that is really standing out is how naturally they include you in their life. like, this person NEVER makes you feel like you have to earn your place around them. they never make you feel like an outsider. they never make you feel like you have to fight for their attention. actually, if anything, they might shock you with how quickly they start including you 😭 their family knows about you, friends know about you, their coworkers probably know about you, their pet knows about you... THE ENTIRE NEIGHBORHOOD KNOWS ABOUT YOU ATP 😭💀 some of them might even know what your favorite food is before they know it themselves 🥰 and the best YET MOST HILARIOUS part is that your fs would NOT give a flying fuck 🙂 people could literally tell them, "you’re DOWNN BAD 😭" and they would be like, "yeah 😀" no shyness or embarrassment AT all!!

and unlike some people who make those weird little backhanded jokes about their partners for laughs, i really don't see that with this person. they might tease you, yes. they might embarrass you, YES (in the most loving way possible!!). they might make your nervous system fail as well 😀👆🏻 BUT disrespecting you? never. NEVER EVER.

alsooooo, one thing that keeps standing out SO strongly is the word LOOK. LOOK. LOOK. LOOK 😭 i swear. this person is constantly gonna be like, "look at that." "look at this." "LOOK HOW CUTE THAT IS." "LOOK WHAT I FOUND." and you're gonna be sitting there like 😀??? every random thing reminds them of you somehow, lmaoo, even the absolutely useless information that nobody asked for 😭 it's silly but it's SO cute.

and yk that feeling when you're looking at someone and you're just overcome with this weird uncontrollable affection??? like, they're not even doing anything and you're still looking at them like AWWWW 😭💗 THAT is what i am seeing (i have said it thrice by now, but it’s SOOOO noticeable i can’t ignore it 😭).

if you've ever felt left out by people you considered close, if you've ever felt overlooked, ignored, or forgotten in groups, trust me when i say that I DO NOT see you feeling that way with this person. they automatically make room for you. YES AUTOMATICALLY. that alone is one of the sweetest things i am seeing here 💗 ALSOOOO, this person definitely has some hobby where they collect things. i don't know why that's coming through so strongly, but it's THERE. books, watches, keychains, cars, records, figurines, literally ANYTHING. they're collecting SOMETHING. and the cutest part is how excited they get talking about it 😭 like, you ask one question and suddenly they're giving you a full presentation, a ted talk, all because you asked one innocent question 😀👆🏻 and they LOVE showing you their collection. LOVE IT.

and tbh, i think you're gonna find it SO FREAKING ATTRACTIVE how passionate they get about it. if you pointed at their favorite item and went, "i like that one," i don't think they'd hesitate before giving it to you 😭💗

and OH BOYYYY, don't even get me started on the way they LOOK at you. THE STARINGGGG 😭 before y'all start dating, i can see some of you getting nervous because of it, "why are they looking at me?", "is my makeup okay?", "do i have something on my face?" and the funniest thing is that they're probably not even doing it intentionally half the time. they just have... DIVINE eyes, yk? 😔💯

and lastlyyyy, one thing that keeps coming through is that they have some ridiculously adorable habit that absolutely does NOT match the image people have of them.

alsoooo 😭 one of my FAVORITE messages coming through is that this person has some ridiculously adorable habits that absolutely DO NOT match the image people initially have of them.

like, yk how sometimes someone looks a certain way and you automatically assume what kind of person they are??? yeah 😀👆🏻 and then they completely destroy that image five minutes later. THAT is what i'm seeing here.

actually, this reminds me of something SO specific 😭 yk, i recently watched the last episode of euphoria season 3. there's this character called bishop. and bishop is basically the assistant of the main villain in the series. this man has the most stoic aura ever, he barely talks, always serious, always looking intimidating.

and thennnn towards the end, in the last episode, maddy actually meets him personally and finds out he owns a WHITE POODLE. A WHITE POODLE. so she tells him something along the lines of, "you don't seem like the type of person who would own a poodle. you are more of a doberman type."

and honestly, i’d assume the SAME 😭 AND THE DOG'S NAME WAS SNOWFLAKE 😭 I'M SORRY BUT THAT IS SO FUNNY TO ME.

THAT is the exact energy i am getting from your future spouse. like, people have one image of them in their head. maybe they're charismatic (which is the case most of the time).

and then you get closer to them and start discovering all these little things that make you go, "AWWWW WAIT 😭💗"  and every single time you discover something, i swear you're gonna like them even MORE 😭 because it's the CONTRAST that gets you. cuz it's not just the cute habit itself, it's the fact that you NEVER would've expected it from someone like them. i’d expect reactions like, "oh for fuck's sake, ahahhahah. this is becoming a problem 😭"

omg this reading was SO DAMN FUN TO CHANNEL!! 😭🫶🏻

let me know what you thought about the reading and how it resonates with y'all!!! thank you SOO MUCH for reading till here angel! i hope you have an amazing day/night! byee untill then!! 💖 <3

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Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[fgwzls]

୨ ❝ LESSON OF THE DAY : KEEP RAGEBAITING YOUR HEARTS OUT. ❞ ๑ slytherin boys x f!reader (xvarious)

๑ summary : just ragebaiting the Slytherin boys to the fullest. Mostly sabotaging their games, of course. ➜ fluff , smau hp masterlist ୨୧ # cursing, crackfic, reader bullying the Slytherin boys(not in a bad way, of course!), the Weasley twins and harry supporting reader, etc (potentially a series)

๑ ❝ slyther-ing my way to your bed ❞ gang includes ; draco malfoy, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, blaise zabini, and lorenzo berkshire

Aaaaaaa idk if I'm gonna do multiple characters smau todayyyy , im very blind nd idk if made a mistake so do tell me😢😢💔

©fgwzls (06.02.26) tag: @maeverrrb , @dreamydaredevil , @ilbeyourprettyprettyplease , @coldalpsmcu , @lilyyyyy08 , @tangerineflavouredduck , @gayfandomslover , @localpanicattack , @thegoddessofnothingness , @luvsymai - idk if i should be tagging yall in tis💔💔

[saintnoxia]

𝟎𝟎𝟔:  𝐎𝐍𝐄  𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓  .  .  .  let  the  light  in. summary:  tom  thinks  you've  been  acting  suspicious  lately.  unfortunately  for  you,  curiosity  is  one  of  his  worst  habits.  he  intends  to  find  out,  one  way  or  another.  pairings:  tom  riddle  x  fem!reader. words:  9.1k. warnings:  alternate  universe  where  tom  didn't  become  voldemort.  NSFW.  also  fluff.  no  angst.  hogwarts  years.  it's  tom's  pov  whole  fic  so  he's  spiraling  tbh.  ooc?  tom.  reader  the  real  idgafer.  things  escalated  quickly,  tom  doesn't  know  what  to  make  of  that.  first  times  with  each  other.  making  out.  reader  giving  tom  head  of  the  year.  you  pretend  you  know  what  you're  doing  so  you're  winging  it.  virgin  tom  because  let's  be  honest.  author  notes:  my  second  attempt  at  anything  nsfw,  forgive  me.  it's  coping  week  and  i  had  a  dream  about  this  fic,  it  was  so  vivid  i  had  to  finish  the  draft.  it's  also  an  attempt  to  see  if  my  skills  are  good  enough  to  write  tom's  pov  (it's  not).  even  if  it's  ooc  of  him,  i  think  i'm  fond  of  this  version  of  tom.  any  typos  &  error,  send  them  out  to  me.  as  always,  enjoy  reading  :)

This was the natural order of things; a world defined by hierarchy, measured in grades, and solidified by the sheer force of his own will. The repulsive need to be something more than human, to transcend the frailties of the flesh and the commonality of the spirit, was his sole drive. Terror and desire often go hand in hand, Tom lived in the center of both—the terror of being mediocre, the desire to be eternal.

Neither good nor evil. Simply as is. That is Tom Marvolo Riddle in his core. This is the kind of man he was becoming. He defines a good person as somebody who is fully conscious of their own limitations. They know their strengths, but they also know their shadow—they know their weaknesses.

In other words, he understands that there is no good without bad. Good and evil are really one, but mankind have broken them up in their consciousness. Mankind had evolved to polarize them, creating a binary of light and dark to comfort themselves, but Tom had seen the truth in the grey.

And then, there was you.

It began with the precipice of his creation—rules and laws he meticulously had written, structures Tom intended for everyone to bow to, if not immediately, then inevitably. He had already established his inner circle, the Knights of Walpurgis, instilling in those pureblooded, idle sons of privilege the conviction that they answered to him, and him alone.

Remarkably enough, it had taken very little effort to persuade them to address him as My Lord. Foolish! Utterly foolish, and for his own amusement of course. Tom did fancy that title, but mostly he just enjoyed watching them grovel for a bit of his attention. It does wonders for his ego, blood status seemed meaningless when these purebloods are beneath him anyway.

It is natural for Tom that people simply gravitate towards him no matter the cause because he is that charmingly deceptive. He knew exactly what to say, when to smile and laugh, when to offer a helping hand to younger students. Tom made a point of remembering the smallest details about people he would otherwise ignore, all for the sake of his ambition, making this uprising to godhood much more unbearably tedious.

For years, the system had been simple. Foreseeable even. He worked twice as hard, he excelled in all subjects, and the castle bent itself around the inevitability of his brilliance. Professors admired him. Students feared or idolized him. Tom's reputation was something few students managed to earn so early, carefully built and impossible to dismiss.

But alongside that, there was always another name.

Yours.

Not above his, never quite below it either—always beside it, irritatingly parallel. It was intolerable, to say the least. Tom did not believe in coincidence. Excellence required discipline, a will sharp enough to carve through the mediocrity of others, and yet you moved through the same system with a carelessness that bordered on sacrilege.

You matched him in every examination. Potion compositions written with neat perspicuity. Defensive spellwork executed with unnerving control. Even the obscure theoretical questions—those that forced other students into frantic guesswork, you answered with the same certainty Tom did.

Tom hated your lineage; he hated the way the name (Lastname) opened doors for you that he had to blast off their hinges. Though more than the blood status, he hated your apathy. You were his only academic peer, the only one whose scores occasionally flickered above his own, regardless, you treated your magic like a common parlor trick.

You didn't crave the mastery he did. You seemed to treat Hogwarts like someplace you were merely passing through. Competition was the heart of Hogwarts, everyone knew this. Students devoured each other for recognition, clawing upward toward approval, toward power, toward the fragile illusion of importance.

But you never played the game. That, perhaps, was the most offensive thing about you.

Tom could tolerate rivals. Rivals had its own purpose, it could create friction against which greatness could be measured. He could have a little bit fun with that, even hatred had a kind of structure to it, something orderly and quite predictable. If you had glared across the classroom at him, if you had sneered when your marks surpassed his, if you had attempted to gather your own little court of admirers to counter his—Tom would have understood it.

You did none of those things.

You did not gloat when Slughorn praised your potion work, though the old man's delight was obvious when he compared it to Tom's. You did not preen when Dumbledore returned Transfiguration essays with identical Outstanding marks, the faintest proud expression in his otherwise neutral expression betraying how unusual it was.

It was the ease that galled him. Tom looked for the tell tale signs of strain in your work and found nothing. The possibility that you were achieving parity while distracted—while barely even present, festered in his mind. You don't even try. Tom always tried.

If you can do this while your mind is elsewhere, then what are you capable of if you've given enough care? And why, merciful Slytherin, do you not simply care?

To serve his own incessant curiosities, Tom had taken to observing you over the years—purely in passing, of course. Not stalking. Certainly not a growing fixation. Though he would never allow anyone to suspect it. You simply had an unfortunate tendency to appear wherever his attention happened to fall. Yes, that's it.

First he noticed you often studied alone, sometimes with that (Mudblood) Hufflepuff Bathilda Cattermole. The name alone carried an unpleasant taste in Tom's mind, though he concealed it perfectly whenever she was near. The girl was harmless, in the way insects were harmless; small, dull creatures occupying space that hardly matters.

It was a grotesque display of wasted intellect; you would lean in to whisper about some inconsequential nonsense to her, laughing as if there is not a care in the world. Books would lie open around you, several at once, but your attention drifted between them without urgency. Sometimes you would abandon them entirely to chase something trivial.

Once, Tom had watched from the castle window as you spent nearly twenty minutes attempting to coax a kneazle out from beneath the greenhouse steps. The creature eventually allowed itself to be scooped into your arms, where it immediately began purring like a moggie. You had laughed then, the sound light and unguarded, before setting it down again and walking off as if the entire incident had been of equal importance to any academic pursuit.

Tom had found himself irrationally irritated for the remainder of the day. It did not make sense, nothing about you made sense.

And lately, the matter had only become stranger, because you had begun behaving suspiciously. Tom did not mean the kind of suspicious behavior that plagued foolish students experimenting with cursed objects or forbidden spells. No, he understood that kind of ambition very well. This was different—you had begun disappearing.

You were doing things. Odd things.

Lingering outside the Restricted Section long after the librarian had dismissed the last student, only to leave without taking a single book. Standing perfectly still beside the Black Lake at dusk, as though waiting for something beneath the surface to answer you. Disappearing into the greenhouses after curfew and emerging later with dirt beneath your fingernails.

Scribbling something hurriedly into a small notebook before tearing the page out and folding it away into your robes.

On more than one of his late patrols, Tom had encountered you where you most certainly should not have been. It would have taken very little effort to deduct points, to escort you back to your dormitories, to see you assigned detention for the rest of the term. He never did. Curiosity, after all, required patience. Interrupting you now would only delay whatever it was you were trying so strangely to accomplish.

None of it aligned with the person Tom believed you must be. Someone who could match him intellectually had to possess the same hunger. The same drive toward something larger than the petty distractions of ordinary life.

Which meant there were only two possibilities.

Either you were profoundly idiotic or you were hiding something.

Tom preferred the second theory.

Sooner or later, you would reveal something, and when you do, Tom would finally understand what game you were playing.

The next Potions lesson began as most did; thick with the sour sweet fumes of simmering concoctions and the tension that inevitably followed the presence of Slughorn. The dungeon classroom was already alive with the low burble of cauldrons when Tom arrived. Students parted almost unconsciously as he moved through the room, their murmured conversations dimming in that subtle way they often did around him.

He also noticed where you were sitting.

Second row from the back today, quill tucked absently behind your ear, sleeves rolled just high enough to keep them from dipping into the potion you had not yet begun brewing. Several ingredients already sat neatly arranged before you, though you seemed far more interested in turning a small scrap of parchment between your fingers than in the lesson itself.

Tom slid into the empty seat beside you.

Slughorn clapped his hands together at the front of the room, mustache bristling with enthusiasm.

"Today, my young prodigies, we shall be attempting something a touch more delicate. A Draught of Peace."

Several students groaned quietly.

Tom, however, his attention had already shifted to the small parchment still turning slowly between your fingers, the same small notebook paper he had seen you tear from its binding on other occasions. Interesting.

Slughorn continued. "You will be working in pairs today! A proper Draught requires a steady hand and excellent timing—two minds are better than one, eh?"

The class began shifting noisily as students rearranged themselves, Tom did not move, and either did you. Which meant, of course—

"Well then!" Slughorn beamed, clearly delighted. “Riddle and Miss (Lastname)! Excellent pairing. Two of my finest students, what a treat!”

A few heads turned. Tom could practically hear the unspoken thought ripple through the room. Of course they’re paired. A faint smug expression etches across his face, at least they know you were somehow off limits when it comes to these things.

"Miss (Lastname)," he began softly, almost conversationally, "I must say… you have an impressive method of organizing your workspace. I can always tell which students will end up with a perfect potion before they even begin."

You glanced at him briefly, eyebrow raised.

"And which category does that put me in?" you asked, tone light, friendly.

Tom allowed a faint laugh. "You, of course, are in a class entirely your own. Unpredictable, yet precise. There's a balance to it I find fascinating."

Your mouth quirked into a tiny smile, clearly amused by the rare compliment. Tom's eyes flicked to your cauldron, noting the way you measured each ingredient with careless elegance.

"Do you always work like this?" he asked casually, already preparing his moonstone. "Or is today a special occasion?"

"I like to keep things interesting," you replied, shrugging. "Life's too dull otherwise."

Tom's lips curved into a more deliberate smile. "Interesting… yes, I would describe you exactly the same way."

He stirred the cauldron slowly, watching the vapors curl turn into blue, but his attention never left you. He let the silence linger just long enough for curiosity to prick at you, how does one keep a conversation alive with someone who seems so unbothered? Tom could comment on the potion, the parchment, the steam curling from the cauldron—anything.

All he had to do was ask the right question, make the smallest observation, and you would respond.

"You measure very carefully," he observed, as if it were the most offhand remark. "I've seen plenty of students rush and ruin the potion before they've even begun."

You shrugged, dipping your wand into the mixture. "I don't see the point in rushing. Potions aren't a race."

"No, they aren't. But some do seem to treat every lesson like one." He tapped the side of his cauldron lightly with his wand. "I can't imagine how tedious it must be to follow the rules that closely all the time."

You glanced at him, curiosity in your gaze. "Rules aren't so bad, I suppose. Sometimes they're convenient."

"Convenient," he repeats. "Yes, that's a good way to put it. Easier than constantly calculating where others might go wrong, I imagine."

"Some people take rules far too seriously. I prefer to experiment a little."

Tom tilted his head, watching the vapors twist. "Experimentation has its merits. It makes life more interesting, doesn't it?"

"Exactly," you said, with a faint smile, as though confirming a shared secret.

"I reckon we'll learn quite a lot from each other today."

Your expression changes, clearly amused yet unfazed. "I suppose we shall."

Three days had passed since that pairing in Potions, and in that time, Tom had seen you more than he had anticipated—passing in corridors, exchanging brief words in the library, sharing a glance across the dueling stage, and of course, working alongside him again in most classes.

He realized now that his usual methods were only partially effective with you. You allowed proximity, allowed conversation, allowed a teasing smile here, a hint of amusement there but never more. Never enough for Tom to feel in control, never enough to fully unravel the enigma you carried.

Yet in those fragments, he had learned much. Tom had learned that you were gratuitous even in your apparent spontaneity, that your curiosity was boundless yet tempered with a certitude that could split through any problem, that you were unbothered by pretense, immune to the usual allure of titles and admiration, and profoundly uninterested in anyone's expectations but your own.

He admitted (only to himself) that there was a peculiar elegance to it all.

And perhaps the most infuriating and intoxicating part of it was how utterly self-contained you were. Tom had assumed, as he always did, that charm could open the edifice of your brain, his superior intellect could lure any mind into conversation, or attention could extract secrets like water from a sponge. Not with you.

You were careful, playful, intelligent, and wholly autonomous. You revealed only what you wished for Tom Riddle to see. And yet, every conversation, every shared glance, had allowed him glimpses—perhaps, of patterns. A mind that, while inscrutable, was fascinating in its logic and entirely unpredictable in its choices.

"Good morning, (Name)." says Tom one morning, at the Great Hall where you were seated.

"Hello, Tom." you murmured, currently occupied reading a novel, you didn't give him a glance.

"Shall we walk together to class later?"

Tom knew it was a gamble, offering such a casual invitation while so many watched. Yet he was confident enough in your nature to suspect you wouldn't outright refuse. And if you agreed… well, that would be even more instructive. The thought of it made him linger a moment longer, anticipating.

It struck him, belatedly, that Bathilda was watching, mouth slightly agape. How amusing, that she assumed he was making some grand gesture. Tom allowed himself the smallest smirk, quietly amused by the idea that people around them couldn't see the simplicity of his plan—a casual walk to class. It was not for them, after all. It was for you.

You glanced up briefly, then back at your book. "I think I'll pass, thanks."

The audible gasp from Bathilda Cattermole made him flick an almost invisible glance toward her, noting the sheer incredulity on her face. Tom felt a subtle tick in his jaw, though his expression remained perfectly composed.

"I see," he said smoothly, voice gentle but on edge. "But perhaps I could persuade you? It need not be a long conversation. Merely a stroll."

"Thanks, Tom, but Betty and I have plans on the way to class," you said lightly, turning a page. "I wouldn't want to steal her company."

Tom's eyes swept over to Bathilda, then back to you. "Very well."

A flash of irritation ran through him. You had rejected him without effort, and yet he could not betray the stir it caused. Tomorrow, then. Tomorrow he would not be denied so easily. His mind churned with possibilities, the ways Tom might lure you into conversation without tripping over your defenses, the ways he might pique that insufferable independence of yours.

He was patient, though even then, patient has its limits.

The following morning, Tom arrived at the Great Hall with his usual lackeys, and yet, his attention was elsewhere. He scanned the familiar faces, eyes drifting past chatter and the clatter of breakfast, seeking you.

And there you were.

But not alone.

Cadmus Sallow, a Gryffindor; gawky, loud, all good natured bravado—walked beside you, his hand brushing yours casually as if the world were no more than a playground. You had giggled at something he said, the light in your eyes utterly unrestrained, a sound that ricocheted through Tom's mind.

Tom stopped just short of the Slytherin table, teeth clenching, the muscles at the back of his neck stiffening. His mind ran through options, each more preposterous than the last; intercepting politely, feigning casual coincidence, perhaps even conjuring an excuse to walk with you without appearing obvious…

And yet, you didn't glance back, didn't seem aware of his presence. Infuriating, because it was trivial. It was mundane. Something curdled inside him, a strange, unfamiliar burn he did not recognize. Tom had not expected you to acquiesce to him yesterday, but he had hoped for some small opening this morning. But now this, he gets instead.

He observed you as you accepted Sallow's attention. Every instinct in him bristled, though entirely not at Scamander's presence, but at the ease with which you allowed it. The thought of you, walking beside another student, unselfconscious in ways that had not included him, kindled a strange unrest beneath his exterior that Tom had never allowed before.

Tom tried to analyze it, to place it in intellectual terms. Was this a test? An act to draw him out, or merely a display of that infuriating self containment that had made every prior interaction with you both vexing and fascinating? Perhaps, he realized reluctantly, it was simpler than that. Perhaps you simply… did not care to include him at all.

He pressed his hands lightly to the edge of the table, forcing himself to maintain composure. He would not betray even a flicker of irritation, would not let anyone see how quickly the sight had unnerved him. His mind, always so accustomed to control, swirled instead with new kind of cunning.

Because one way or another, whether through his impeccable charm or subtle provocation, he would see you walk alongside him. And he would understand—whatever strange, confounding force drew him to you, it would not be denied.

Night had settled over Hogwarts, the castle quiet except for the occasional owl or the soft rustle of ghosts wandering the corridors. His usual late patrols gives him the perfect pretense to wander the halls, deduct points from students who broke curfew hours, and assert control in the small ways he could. Patrols were a duty—but Tom always preferred them.

As he walked along the path near the Black Lake, reverie in mind, his eyes caught movement. At first, he thought he was mistaken; a pair of shadows that shouldn't be there. Then he recognized them. Closer inspection confirmed what his mind had already been racing toward—Cadmus Sallow and you. Too close, too casual.

But it wasn't the proximity that set his teeth on edge, it was what followed next.

Before Tom could fully process, Cadmus lifted you effortlessly into his arms. Your scream carried across the water, and in a split second, he tossed you into the lake.

Time slowed. Tom's brain scrambled, processing: You can swim, yes. But why the theatrics? Why the—Panic. Alarm. Rage. You were going to drown in that lake, whose night dark depths had swallowed creatures before, where one miscalculated stroke could have ended everything. You were going to be eaten alive.

Cursing under his breath, he raised his wand. "Impedimenta!"

Cadmus froze mid step, hit by the curse thrown, stumbling backward onto the grass with a groan; unconscious before he even hit the ground. He didn't care for that boy, not now.

Without thinking, Tom dived into the lake. The water enveloped him, cold and suffocating, but he pushed downward, past the ripples and shadows, searching desperately. He spotted a swirl of motion, a glimmer of the shape he knew belonged to you, sinking lower than any ordinary person should.

Hands closed around you, firm as he dragged you upward, breaking the surface in a violent rush, lungs screaming from the shock. He hauled you to the shore, water sluicing off your hair, clothes sticking, and only then allowed himself a glance at your face.

His hands were shaking from a burgeoning, murderous intent that made the Lake's depths look inviting by comparison. Tom looked at your pale throat, then back at the dark lump of Sallow on the grass. He wondered how long Cadmus Sallow would last if his lungs were magically filled with the very lake water he'd thrown you into. It was a fascinating academic question. He'd leave the boy's body at the bottom of the lake, anchored by the weight of his own stupidity.

The world was full of mediocre people; surely the loss of one loud mouthed Gryffindor would be a net gain for the universe. A simple Killing Curse felt too quick, a mercy Sallow hadn't earned. No, Tom would unmake him. The audacity of it—to put hands on his interest, to ruin his clothes, to force him into a display of uncalculated emotion.

You coughed, the water spilling out in a rush, leaving you trembling and breathless against the damp earth. Your eyes were bright with adrenaline, blinking up at the dark silhouette of the boy looming over you.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Tom finally had snapped. "That idiot just threw you into the lake! He could have killed you!"

You blinked at Tom, water dripping from your hair, looking far more confused than frightened.

"Tom Riddle?" you glanced around, then at the lake. "What are you doing here?"

Tom stared at you in disbelief. "What am I—? You were drowning, (Name). I saved you."

"…I asked him to throw me in."

You what?

The words did not settle into anything sensible, they hovered somewhere between incomprehensible and deeply irritating.

"You… asked him," Tom repeated slowly.

Water dripped from your sleeves as you pushed yourself upright, still catching your breath. Behind you, the lake lapped innocently at the shoreline as though it had not just been the site of a life threatening rescue.

"Yes," you said, brushing wet hair from your face. "I asked him."

Tom's mind, which had been seconds away from devising several creative methods of disposing of Cadmus Sallow’s body, stalled completely.

"You asked him," he said again, more sharply.

Then you nodded your head, as if this clarified everything, as if it was enough of an explanation. Tom glanced down at you, then toward the unconscious Gryffindor sprawled several feet away, then back at the lake.

A long, very quiet pause followed.

"You were sinking, (Name)." Tom said finally, voice tight. "You disappeared beneath the surface."

"Yes," you agreed cheerfully.

"That generally happens when one is thrown into deep water."

"And yet," your hands gestured vaguely at yourself, "I'm fine, Tom."

"You were drowning," Tom insists stubbornly.

"No, I wasn't."

"You were underwater."

"That's how swimming works."

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "I heard you screaming."

You shrugged. "It's part of the experience."

"The experience?"

"Yes, Tom. I feel like we are going around in circles."

He inhaled slowly through his nose, as though restraining himself from committing several crimes at once. Behind him, Cadmus Sallow groaned faintly. Tom’s head snapped toward the sound with a glare.

You followed his gaze and blinked. "Oh," you said. "Why is Cadmus unconscious?"

"Because I hexed him."

"For throwing me in the lake?"

"Obviously."

"But I asked him to."

Tom's patience, already hanging by a thread, strained violently. "Yes," he said tightly. "You mentioned that."

You tilted your head at him, studying his soaked robes, the lake water dripping from his hair, the fact that he was kneeling in the mud looking equal parts furious and bewildered.

"…Tom," you said slowly.

"(Name)." Tom says your name with the same timbre of your voice.

"Did you jump into the lake to save me?"

Tom's gaze shifted away from yours, settling somewhere over your shoulder toward the lake. For the first time that evening, he found himself momentarily at a loss. He had not planned the dive, had not weighed the risks or consequences. The moment he believed you were in danger, he had simply moved. Instinctively. Recklessly. The lack of logic in that decision disturbed him deeply.

Irrational—precisely the sort of behavior he despised in other people. Although Tom preferred not to dwell on why your safety had seemed suddenly more important than his own. He did not respond to your question but it was quite obvious from the way his expression subtly changed, the way ruddy crept up from his ears, evidently clear.

A sound reached him then—a laugh. Yours. Tom's attention snapped back immediately, the unfamiliar warmth of the sound catching him off guard. It was effortless, genuine in a way he had not quite witnessed before, this was something else entirely.

Your eyes had crinkled slightly at the corners, your shoulders shaking lightly, and your nose scrunching faintly as you laughed under your breath. It was your entire expression softening, leaving Tom too mesmerized to even look away. You were beautiful. Crushingly so. How does he look away now that he has seen you?

The sound was oddly compelling. He wondered, briefly, what it would take to hear it again from you. Perhaps it was not such a wasted effort after all.

"I was not dying, all right," you managed between breaths. "Cadmus and I were testing something."

"Testing what exactly?"

"I am merely crossing off my life list."

Tom blinked. "Your what?"

You shrugged slightly, wringing water from your sleeve. "Betty told me about it. Muggle sentimentality, you know. It's just… a list of things you want to do at least once. Little experiences, ridiculous ideas, things you'd regret never trying." You gestured vaguely toward the lake. "Being thrown into the Black Lake at night happened to be one of them."

Tom regarded you with a narrowed gaze, reconsidering everything he thought he had understood. For a moment he felt the irritation of a theory collapsing in his mind. Tom had believed he was beginning to understand you—your odd behavior, your distance, the curious independence you guarded so closely. Yet every time he thought he had placed you inside his head amongst all other things, you do something utterly nonsensical. Tom goes back to zero again.

"Why on earth," he asked finally, "would anyone willingly do something like that?"

"Because it's ridiculous," you said simply. "And we're almost out of time at Hogwarts. We'll be graduating soon!"

Tom understood the source of your strange behavior now. The explanation was disappointingly simple; a list of meaningless experiences, both sentimental and irrational. And yet, for reasons he could not categorize, he found himself standing alone in the corridor the next morning with a small bouquet conjured in his hand, waiting for you.

An apology was unnecessary; you had, after all, survived the ordeal unscathed. By every rational measure, the matter should have been dropped.

His gaze lowered briefly to the flowers.

They were small things; delicate blossoms threaded with thin stems of green, arranged with a care he had not consciously intended. Most girls like flowers, right? Assumingly so, Tom decided to go with that. It's the sort of gift people offered to smooth over minor inconveniences, but not something one prepared after dragging someone half drowned from the Black Lake in the middle of the night.

A group of younger students passed at the far end of the corridor, their chatter reverberating against the walls before fading down the stairwell. The castle was slowly stirring awake, morning light spilling through the tall windows and stretching across the floor in long bands.

Tom remained where he was.

The sensible course of action would have been to leave. There was nothing requiring his presence here, nothing obligating him to wait. If anything, the more pressing matter still remained Cadmus Sallow, whose continued existence was a mistake Tom had not yet eliminated.

He could see you were finally walking, side by side with Bathilda Cattermole, her usual chatter filling the quiet morning. Tom adjusted the small bouquet in his hand, straightening his robes, and started walking toward you with measured steps. The usual confident stride was tempered by an unfamiliar anticipation.

When he finally fell into step beside you, he allowed a wry smile to soften his otherwise stern expression.

"Good morning, (Name). Care to let me borrow a moment of your time?"

You glanced at him briefly, eyebrow arched. For a passing moment, Tom feared refusal—instead, you nodded, turning your attention back to Bathilda. "I'll see you later, Betty."

You walked with a calm ease, hair styled and eyes glowed, and for the first steps, neither of you spoke. The silence was not uncomfortable; it was tension interlaced from the events of the Black Lake, from shared glances and unspoken questions, from the chaos of the night left behind but not forgotten.

Finally, Tom broke it, holding out the bouquet.

You blinked, startled. "Oh…? What's this for?"

Tom's jaw stiffened. Words rarely stumbled from him, and yet, here they came, halting and uncertain. "For the other night," he explains. "I didn't mean to come across… harshly. Or alarm you. You… surprised me."

Your lips quirked, faintly amused, but your eyes studied him intently, trying to read more than the words themselves.

"Well," you said softly, "I suppose it's appreciated."

He let out a small exhale, though his heart pounded. The corridor stretched ahead, sunlight streaming through, dust motes drifting lazily in the morning light. He fell into step beside you, keeping a careful distance, conscious of the warmth emanating from your presence, yet unsure how close Tom should allow himself.

"You were reckless," he said finally, careful, but with an edge he could not fully suppress.

You glanced at him, tilting your head, eyes curious. "Perhaps. But I wanted to be. It was… necessary."

Tom's eyes drifted to yours, trying and failing to assess the logic behind your statement. And then, without thinking, he let a corner of his usual precision slip.

"Necessary?" almost incredulous. "You could have drowned or worse—killed by Grindylows."

"You saved me," a teasing lilt in your tone. "Did you not?"

The corner of his mouth twitched—almost a smile, though he would not call it that. Something in your easy confidence, in the way you had faced the lake, in the way you now accepted the bouquet without complaint, unsettled him in the best possible way. He had expected the refusal, but not this. Not you.

Both of you walked in silence for a few moments longer, the bouquet held loosely between your fingers, the weight of unspoken words lingering. The lecture he'd prepared died in his throat, replaced by the simple, startling peace of your company. In the soft, hazy light of the morning, the world seemed to shrink until there was no past to interrogate and no future to plot—there was only the reality of his shadow falling beside yours on the path.

Tom Riddle was simply there, matching his stride to yours, captivated by the way the sunlight refused to flee from your gaze.

Finally, you glanced down at the flowers. "You didn't have to do this, you know."

"I know," he replied evenly, though the edge in his voice betrayed him. "But I wanted to."

Your eyes softening ever so slightly. "Then… thank you, Tom."

You continued walking, the corridor fading behind as the path led toward the small wooden bridge spanning the stream that fed into the Black Lake. The world around you were quiet—too quiet, perhaps, and it left only the two of you in the sunlight dappled hush of the bridge.

You stopped abruptly, turning around to face him, lifting your gaze to meet his. The bouquet shifted in your fingers.

"Tom," you began softly, voice unusually serious. "Are you… courting me?"

He froze, then he blinked once, twice, and for once, words had failed him. Courting? For a man who prided himself on having a silver tongue, the silence that followed was positively deafening. Tom had never—never—intended to express anything so personal, or resembling affection towards you. And yet, somehow, you had come to that conclusion entirely on your own.

How had you drawn that conclusion?

Tom's mind scrambled, a myriads of contradictions swimming through his head. He could not dissect this, could not plan a clever retort. You had thrown him entirely off, the bridge beneath him felt narrower, the air heavier with the implication of your words, his chest felt tightly suffocating.

He tried to search your expression, the certainty in your eyes, trying to find a misinterpretation—a trick, anything Tom could use to reduce this to something manageable. But there was nothing. The words hung in the air between you, tangible and daring him to respond.

Tom felt an unfamiliar pang of something like hesitation, like fear, like desire, like fury, though he could not tell which. He felt unarmed, exposed to your understanding, and frustratingly, Tom hated that it pleased him.

You didn't wait for him. The silence stretched, the soft ripple of the stream below, and the bouquet trembling slightly in your hands, as if even it sensed the tension.

Finally, with your usual decisiveness, you added: "I'll be your girlfriend then."

You had chosen him, on your own terms, without persuasion, without manipulation, and entirely outside his control. In that moment, Tom felt like he could do nothing but stare at you in disbelief, breath caught.

Tom Riddle has a girlfriend now. Girlfriend. The word still lingered in his mind, as though it didn't belong in the same sentence with him. Tom Riddle has a girlfriend. The notion felt preposterous, ridiculous even! and yet, undeniably true.

He passed the portraits on the walls with the usual composure, he caught snippets of whispers behind painted frames; "Did you hear?" "Tom Riddle's taken someone?" "Finally, (Name) got him!" Each murmur was a pulse in a pulse of the castle, each rumor a tick in a clock he was normally so meticulous in controlling.

Now he could not control this. No charm, no subtlety could alter the simple fact that he belonged, in some inexplicable way, to another. To you. The absurdity of it struck him. Women had never interested him, not really. Most bored him, were predictable, or clever in ways that paled before his own superior intellect.

Affection, romance, flirtation—these were minor distractions at best. He had never permitted sentiment to intrude on his pursuits, what use of a lover when you're going to be the most dangerous wizard in the whole world? For Merlin's sake, Tom Riddle had never even touched a woman before. Most certainly, he wouldn't touch you now.

By the time he reached the Potions dungeon, he found himself in a rare situation; Slughorn grinned more widely than usual.

"Ah! Riddle, my boy!" the professor clapped him on the shoulder with almost inappropriate enthusiasm. "I hear congratulations are in order! Finally, you've acquired… a companion, hm? (Lastname) at that… I always knew the two of you would be entangled with each other one way or another… Ah, young love indeed."

"Yes, Professor." Tom forced himself to smile, internally, he felt as though a part of him had been unmoored. "It seems so."

Moving past the congratulatory chatter and toward the workbench, arranging himself with the same deftness he applied to every potion he brewed. Each ingredient was placed, vials aligned by size and content, powders sifted into neat piles, liquids in graduated flasks reflecting the dim glow of the dungeon. Even here, in the sanctuary of Slughorn's cauldron lit chaos, Tom's mind tried to regain its usual order.

Slughorn, hovering nearby, could hardly contain his curiosity—or his delight. "Yes, yes, excellent! I always did say a clever boy like you would find a clever witch…" He leaned in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Now, tell me, Riddle, do you find yourself… distracted?"

Tom's hands didn't falter, but his eyes drifted, unconsciously, to the miniature vial of essence he was weighing. He suppressed a sigh. "Professor, I assure you, focus is not an issue."

Slughorn chuckled, rubbing his hands together as if he had caught a rare and fascinating specimen. "Ah, but there's a certain… ineffable quality when young hearts collide, hmm? Even in the most disciplined of minds, it makes one… a touch less predictable."

Tom did not respond. Instead, he moved with methodical care, measuring powdered roots into precise increments, stirring liquids until they shimmered exactly as expected. His mind, however, kept wandering; the bouquet still in your hands, the way sunlight had glinted off your hair as you walked beside him, the sharpness of your teasing remark that had sent him scrambling for words on the bridge.

It was maddening, but also oddly captivating.

Tom snapped back to the present as Slughorn leaned over, peering into the beginnings of a simmering potion. "Yes, yes, that's it! Beautiful technique! Never have I seen such attention to detail."

Perhaps, Tom should have never taken this advance lesson from Slughorn this morning. Long fingers deftly adjusting the contents of the cauldron. Each motion was precise, a discipline to counterbalance the chaos of his thoughts. He could not allow himself to lose control—his plans, his ambition, his careful cultivation of influence, but he could not deny the strange undercurrent that had begun when you accepted the bouquet, when you had decided, entirely of your own accord, to be with him.

He arranged the final ingredient into the cauldron, watching as it dissolved perfectly, releasing a faint luminescent mist. Even in this small triumph, Tom felt the tug of distraction. The world outside this dungeon had changed. You had changed it.

Slughorn hummed appreciatively. "Ah, Riddle, my boy… not only masterful in skill but evidently… masterful in the ways of… hearts as well. Remarkable!"

His thoughts, usually as unyielding as the lines of a spell, were tangled now—wrapped around you, around the absurdity of being called your boyfriend, around the unwelcomed warmth he felt every time your name passed through his mind.

And yet, his fingers still moved, because if there was one thing Tom Riddle could still command, it was the magic at his fingertips.

The Room of Requirement was something both of you began to hang around together (your idea, of course), a warm haven far from the watchful eyes of Hogwarts. Bookshelves lined the walls, a soft rug underfoot, and a low couch sat in the center, perfectly arranged for the two of you. It was much more peaceful this way, without prying eyes or baseless gossips.

"I haven't kissed anyone before," says you, legs stretched lazily across Tom's lap. "Have you?"

A visceral moment of surprise, Tom's hands stilled over the book in his own lap, the words on the page blurring as his mind registered the weight of your words. He knew he should answer quickly, with charm or wit, but nothing came.

Have he? Of course not. Tom didn't have time for the clumsy, uncoordinated exchanges of saliva he'd seen other students engaging in behind the greenhouses, or corners. Besides, he thinks it is unsanitary for people to have done that, even the thought itself makes his skin crawl in repulsiveness.

Tom's gaze finally peered over you, and that's when he saw it. A soft, subtle flush to your lips. Was that tint? A balm? An application of some cosmetic? The realization that you might have prepared for this—that those lips were currently a different shade than they were at breakfast, had sent a surge of something molten through his veins.

His body leaned in, shadow stretching over you, his gaze fixated on your mouth.

"What is this?" Tom whispered, his thumb rising to brush your lower lip. The contact was rousing. He felt the tender heat of your skin, and the tint came away on his thumb, a smear of pale red against his porcelain skin.

"Do you like it?" your voice soft, velvet provocation.

"I am not certain," he swallowed hard. The words barely left his mouth before his restraint cracked. His body shifted, leaning closer with his own heart hammering against his chest.

"Do you… want to kiss, Tom?"

The first touch of his lips to yours was hesitant, leaving you panicked by that sudden act, but you didn't push him away either, so he took it as a sign. Tom had never kissed anyone—not properly. He knew of the mechanics, the general idea, but intimacy was something he hadn't quite learned hands on. Tom barely knew where to put his hands, what to do, where to look, and you had noticed exactly that.

His entire body feels like it's burning and perhaps, that's okay. The angle was slightly off, his upper lip brushing awkwardly, teeth grazing lightly in a moment of over caution. You tilted your head to compensate, and the small, imperfect corrections only made the contact more intimate, more yours.

You laughed softly against him when his tongue accidentally brushed yours, flustered and amused at his fumbling attempts, and Tom responded with a quiet exhale of frustration mixed with exhilaration. The points of your noses got out of each other's way, exhales mingling, and he heard you gasped out a little moan, too, dizzy from the sweltering intimacy.

Finally, without prior signals, you closed the circuit with a soft, shy kiss, then another, and another, all chaste but all meaning the same thing; Tom Riddle is kissing you. You were kissing him.

He'd been simply reduced to a boy who didn't know how to breathe. When he finally pulled back, just an inch, his forehead rested against yours. He was breathless, his skin flushed in startling pink, and his eyes were wide like yours.

"I think," he whispered, "that I might require more practice."

"Me too as well." you simply said, at a loss for words.

And then, when you tried to move—your knee had bumped into something hard in between his legs, earning Tom to elicit a soft groan from his throat, his eyes snapping shut as the air left his lungs. You must have realized this because your eyes widened in a flash of horrified realization, and your breath hitched in a small, audible gasp.

"I—" you began, the heat already rushing to your cheeks.

"—No," Tom interrupted, his voice strained. He cut you off before the apology could leave your lips, saving you both from the embarrassment of his bodily reaction. "My apologies, (Name)."

He withdrew slowly, his back hitting the rear of the couch with a heavy thud. Putting a clinical distance between his raging boner and your knee. He sank back against the cushions of the couch, his spine stiff as he stared at the ceiling as if the answers to his sudden loss of composure were written in the rafters. You remained where you were, sprawled out with your head pillowed against the armrest, the air between you still lingering with the ghost of that clumsy kiss.

Tom could back out now. Part of him wants to. He could say that this was over, and never have to relive this moment again. But Tom hadn't been a coward nor a quitter. He's also hard.

You surprise him when you hover above him instead, settling down on his lap—closing the distance between you again, the touch of your lips soft until Tom feels the wet of your tongue once more. This time he expects it, parting his lips in response, letting you in. The feeling of your tongue tracing his mouth is odd at first, but only until he realizes that you must have known what you were doing with your tongue.

"I want to feel you in my mouth," you say in between breaths. "Is that okay, Tom?"

Tom was already losing his mind anyway, so he nodded instead. He's suddenly hyper aware of your breasts brushing his, your soft hands against his cheeks, the warmth of your thighs above his. Everything's just a little too much in a way that's just right.

When you pulled away, heaving breaths, Tom had the urge to pull you back just so he could taste your lips again. The tint on your lips had been long gone now, and Merlin, you looked absolutely alluring in his eyes. It's like his mind's gone irrational now, every logical thought he has had been thrown out in the window, all Tom could think was you, you, you.

It didn't end there, fortunate enough. You kneeled in front of him, your hands trembling quite a bit as you pulled Tom's pants down carefully, and Tom gasped at the relief on his aching cock, pushing up into your hand. The cool air bites at the patch of wet precum on the front of his knickers. You hesitated for a second with your fingers wrapped around Tom's waistband, giving him a second to back out, but when Tom nodded it's all you ever needed to pull them down.

His cock springs free, slapping against his belly and smearing a little pool of precum against his navel. You ran your tongue over your bottom lip, eyes hazy with want. The first touch of your hand on his has Tom nearly collapsing back down onto the couch—he groaned, head lolling forward which gives him a better view of your fingers tugging his hardness, stroking up and down and twisting your wrist at the head. The slide is dry but it still feels so good that Tom was practically seeing stars, shaking with the effort of not bucking his hips forward to thrust into your fist.

When you slid the tip of his over the seam of your mouth, back and forth, smearing pre come on your full lips, Tom was a goner. It's too much. All of it. Your fingers working insistently over his length, the slow, smooth glide over your soft, soft lips—Tom thinks he might come like this, which is embarrassing in itself. He doesn't want to. Tom wants to feel the inside of your mouth, he wants to release himself inside your mouth and have you swallowed it whole.

Then your lips closed around him—oh.

You kept looking at the way his face twists in pleasure as you suckled at the head softly, making squelching noise purposefully and a low grumble forms in Tom's throat. You could feel the way his cock twitches in in your mouth, gagged by the length of him, but you pushed through anyway.

"It feels—it feels good, (Name)." Tom rasped out, his fingers running through the strands of your hair, tugging them lightly.

With his words, you pushed yourself further and feels it slip down your throat. It's weird, a foreign feeling and definitely not the most comfortable but it was fine. Especially at the loud groan falling from Tom's lips as your nose hits the other's crotch.

You had stayed there for a few seconds, throat convulsing around the hardness shoved down and Tom could feel you choking this time. Coughing a little, you pulled away and a string of spit connects your swollen lips with his. His fingers around your hair tightened, and his whole body jerks forward, thrusting his into your mouth until he cannot comprehend anything any longer.

A spike of pleasure shoots through Tom's whole body and he bucks up with a moan. It was hot, everything you do turns him on so much and he can't seem to calm down. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your own muffled whimpers filled his ears and you felt tears running down your face. Pleasure almost blinding Tom.

Tom had swore he blacked out for a second, pleasure coursing through him like liquid fire, he called out your name—then his whole body tenses up as spurts of hot white releases inside the warmth of your mouth. His fingers went numb, falls loosely around your hair, both exhausted, panting for breath as Tom come down from the high.

"How… where did you learn that?"

"Betty lends me her Muggle romance novels."

Graduation day arrived beneath a sky so bright it almost didn't feel real.

The Hogwarts courtyard was alive with movement—students drifting between stone arches in dark robes, laughter rising in waves, owls swooping overhead as if they too sensed something momentous had ended. The air carried the smell of summer grass and warm stone, the Black Lake glittering beyond the distant trees. After seven years within these walls, the castle seemed to be watching them go.

Tom found you easily.

You were standing near the fountain, sunlight spilling through the trees above, catching the familiar shape of you in a way that made something in his chest flustered. Even after everything; exams, rumors, whispered ambitions about his future—his gaze still found you first. You had cradled his face in your hands like Tom is the most precious thing in existence. He has never known such feeling to be so pure as the love you bestowed upon him a year ago.

"Enjoying the festivities?" Tom asked as he approached, hands clasped behind his back.

You glanced over your shoulder, smiling faintly. "Trying to. It's hard to believe we are actually leaving."

Tom's gaze were heavy, contemplating—then, without warning, he slipped a hand into the deep pocket of his robes. When it emerged, nestled between his pale fingers was a heavy, unsightly thing of dull gold, crudely fashioned but radiating a thrum of power, at its center sat a black stone, etched with a crest. You looked at the heavy gold and then up at his smug, beautiful face.

"It's a family heirloom of mine," he stated. "Gaunt."

Your brows lifted slowly. "Tom…"

"You should marry me, (Name)."

You crossed your arms over your chest, a playful glint in your eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be on one knee for a moment like this, Mr. Riddle?"

Tom's mouth twitched. "No."

You stared at him, skeptical. "You're unbelievable."

"I’m efficient," he corrected smoothly, holding the ring out toward you. "The answer remains the same regardless of posture."

A laugh escaped you despite yourself, shaking your head. "You are the least romantic person alive."

"Possibly," Tom said mildly. "But you are avoiding the question."

You stepped closer, examining the ring, then him. "Are you seriously proposing like this?"

"Yes, I am."

"Without kneeling?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Well?" he said impatiently. "Say yes already."

"You know most people make speeches." yet the smile spreading across your face betrayed you.

"I hope you realize by now, I am not most people."

A laugh escaped from your lips. "That's definitely true."

Your gaze softened as you looked at him again. The courtyard noise faded slightly around you; distant chatter, footsteps, though in that moment it all felt strangely far away.

"You're really asking me to marry you," you said quietly.

"I thought that was clear."

A smile tugged at your lips. "You're planning to go conquer the world, aren't you?"

"More or less."

"And you want me along for that?"

Tom reached out, his hand finding your waist and drawing you a fraction closer. His gaze held yours with an honesty he allowed no one else. "I intend to go very far, and I intend to stay there for a very long time. It would be so kind if you were by my side."

"That's the closest thing to a romantic confession I think you’re capable of."

You didn't wait for him to find the words to argue, you leaned forward, as your lips had met his. Tom's reaction had been instinctive; his hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you back, firm and certain, in a way that was entirely his own. When you finally pulled away, there was fondness in your eyes.

"…I assume that means yes." he murmured.

You simply reached out, took the heavy Gaunt ring from his pale fingers, and slid it onto your hand. The black stone looked dark and formidable against your skin. It was obvious that something about you lights a fire in him, Tom Riddle looks alive when you were in his arms. Human like he had never seen himself before. In love. Not only love, but perhaps, beyond salvation. Spectre of his mortal soul.

"Yes, Tom," your heart stirred. "I might even cross it off my list."

[sinrosed]

dirty little secrets — part two [t.r]

⭑ summary: You spent six years at Hogwarts perfecting the art of invisibility. No friends. No enemies. No one ever looked close enough to notice you, to question you. To see you. You learned to embrace the arms of loneliness in the hallways of Hogwarts, and now, in your final year, you thought it would be no different. You would focus on your studies, drown in your quietness, and make it out of the hellhole you called home. Get a job as a healer apprentice. Get a place of your own. You had it all planned out. But once you catch the eyes of the infamous Tom Riddle, everything changes. Catching the eyes of the devil leaves you tangled in webs of dirty little secrets, ambition, and now that you've unlocked the monster's cage, he won't stop until he's corrupted you. Now it's only a matter of time before you'll give in to the darkness or let it swallow you to your destruction. MINORS DNI PLEASE. please remember to reblog and leave a comment if you can, it helps a lot. thank you ♡

⭑ pairing: tom riddle x reader

⭑ genre: series, eventual smut, angst, dark, 18+

⭑ warnings: ominous tom riddle, reader is a loner and some dark shenanigans, a lot of potion talking (i tried my best to be accurate).

⭑ word count: 9k

⭑ links: series masterlist 𝜗ৎ my masterlist 𝜗ৎ inbox 𝜗ৎ part one

⭑ author's note: hey, loves! i'm sooo sorry for taking so long to update, life has been crazy :') hopefully i'll be able to pop out more frequent updates, love you all ♡ ps this is not beta read and english is not my first language, so forgive for any mistakes <3

⭑ if you would like to recieve formal updates, i have it cross-posted on wattpad and ao3 ♡

Tom scanned you in a way that sent shivers plucking each bone of your spine. You’ve never been so thoroughly looked at before, as if he were picking apart every part of you on a cellular level, seeking to understand the enigma that built you.

It was the way you looked at him in the courtyard.

“I’ve been watching you,” Tom says in a dry tone. Blood left your chapped lips at that brief moment, your brain scrambling for answers. For a reaction.

You knew it already—the heaviness of his gaze lately was impossible to ignore. But saying it out loud let all speculation burst into the air of reality, one that hit your chest so hard, breathing seemed like a faraway concept.

“Why?” That was all you could formulate. Your brain was still mush, still not comprehending reality as it formed around you, and Tom only blinked in response. He noticed your confusion, your daze—now that you were standing right in front of him, he did not need to make an effort to seek your reactions out in the darkness.

“A personal….interest of mine.”

You couldn’t fathom it. It was like an alien concept—interest. In you. Tom Riddle had a personal interest in you. Was this another dream? Or perhaps a nightmare? And yet, it all seemed too real to be your mind playing tricks on you again.

You blinked, red painting the skin of your ears as your eyes shook. You physically couldn’t form words, but Tom didn’t need them. It was like he looked right through you, or tried to, for a purpose. Your curiosity now burned inside you to understand. And for the first time, you let it create arson inside you.

Tom, then, made a swift move to grab the idling potions book in your hand, “Too advanced. You have no skillset like this yet.” He made a movement with his wand and put the book back, and you followed it with shaken eyes. You were about to open your mouth when, “You follow everything by the book, don’t you? Breakfast, lunch, classes, and even curfew. You never did step out, did you?”

Your lips moved, but it seemed your voice was held in a tight knot at the depths of your throat. You couldn’t fathom how he could gather so much information about you, observe you, within two days of school. It shouldn’t be—

Your eyes grew wide then, when realization dawned upon you like an ice-cold bucket. Tom paid no attention to you anymore, his gaze now diverted to the infinite wall of books behind you, his fingertips caressing each spine with a delicate caution.

“You—how long have you been watching me?” Your voice came out faint, but Tom didn’t flinch. Paid no mind to it, really, and continued searching.

“Since last year.” He said it with uneasy neutrality as he continued to focus on searching for whatever book he needed to. An invisible fist punched the air out from inside your lungs at his response.

Since last year.

Tom Riddle had been watching you since last year. The concept was so absurd, you almost chuckled. Almost.

But the sound died before it reached your lips, because Tom’s tone had not been one of jest. And it wasn’t laced with strings of unnoticed cruelty, either. It had been factual, precise. Denoting an incident like a desensitized surgeon.

You hadn’t felt his gaze on you for almost a year. You always observed him like you would stars, tried to place him as you did with constellations, and yet you hadn’t solved the one right in front of you: his eyes on you. Burning you. For almost a year.

A goddamn year.

You hadn’t felt it. His gaze certainly didn’t prickle your skin as the sun did. It was far away, you concluded, like a quiet satellite observing your world from light-years away.

Had your mind been playing tricks on you for seven years? Were you not apt for the art of observation? Was your body not made of the shadow you were certain plagued you?

“A—a year?” The question tore itself out of you again. Tom paid no mind to you, treating you like a spirit roaming behind him, as everyone did. But he knew you—now you definitely knew he did.

Your lips parted—was this how he tricked you into thinking you were a ghost in his life? A light breeze not worth the attention? Perfecting the art of ignoring you? You thought his ignorance of your existence was natural, like every other student, not a Shakespearean-worthy theatrical performance you had just witnessed.

“You cannot—it can’t be possible! I would have felt you gazing at me for a year—“

“Ah, here it is.” He ignored your chatter and grabbed a purple book at the corner.

You licked your lips, dry as parchment. “You can’t mean—”

Tom finally turned, the purple book balanced easily in his hand, and fixed you with that same impenetrable stare. It couldn’t be possible to not feel such a gaze like his. It was a magnet, it pulled you into the abyss of dark oblivion of his pupils. It just—it wasn’t possible.

“Do you believe observation requires permission?” His tone was soft, steady, but sharp enough to carve into your nerves.

You blinked, his words holding a place inside your head. “Well, certainly not, but people feel gazes on them—“

“You’ve observed people intensely, but they never felt your gaze, now did they?” He stepped forward. The creak of wood, his impenetrable stare, his mere presence thickened the air with that familiar green poison that choked any oxygen inside you. Tom tilted his head, “Why should you ever be an exception to another’s stare?”

Every word from his lips wormed into your mind, eating every memory of your observations, unraveling the careful vines you had wound around it.

How many hours had you spent staring at people, dissecting their ticks, their subtle tells—the way Darya’s lips twitched when she was jealous, the way Ophelia’s eyes twinkled in insecurity, or the way Slughorn’s eyes flickered toward his favorites like fireflies to honey? And none of them had ever noticed. They lived on, unaware, as you quietly stole pieces of them and placed them carefully into your collection of details.

But you would have never thought you would ever be a muse.

You were the quiet artist who painted other people's lives with your soul closed and lonely hands. Never the muse.

It seemed you were so convinced of your invisibility that you let it crack right under your nose, and the dark eyes before you were the only ones who heard it. Saw it. Investigated shards that led to you.

“Shit.” You mumbled under your breath. But still, what curiosity could ever spark an interest in you of all people? Your life was quiet. It was boring. Not even poets could ever romanticize the mundane out of your grey days.

And so, the question came out again, “Why?”

“You certainly ask many questions for someone who thinks of themselves as quiet.” A faint curl tiggen on his lips, questioning you like he knew you.

Without another word, he extended the purple book toward you, his fingers still loosely gripping the spine. “Here,” he said, voice quiet. “Have it. Study it. Thank me later.”

Your breath caught as the book pressed into your palms. Its leather was worn, edges frayed, but when your fingertips brushed the cover it thrummed faintly, like something alive lurked within the ink. You looked down at it, then up again—only to find his cloak already swaying, his back turned as he began to walk away.

For a heartbeat, you stayed frozen, trapped between disbelief and the lingering venom of his gaze. The world blurred, soundless, as if he’d dragged you into his orbit and then left you stranded in the stillness he carried with him.

Then it hit you.

“Hey!” Your voice cut through the hush of the library, louder than you intended. You bolted after him, clutching the book to your chest, your shoes echoing on the stone floor. “I watch you, too, you know.”

Tom stopped suddenly and looked back. His eyes froze your veins, and with a willpower pulled from the devil underground, you forced out the words stuck inside you, “You don't follow rules, do you? I mean, to others it may be that you do—you're good at hiding.” Words came out smoothly before you could cut them with a knife, “Today, in potions. You didn't follow the rules on the potions book. You grabbed other ingredients.

Tom smirked. There was a twinkle of intrigue in the way he looked at you, one dark enough to dismantle souls. You preferred when he was ignorant to your existence—or at least pretended to be. His attention created knots in anyone’s existence, and in yours, he would be a hazard for your uncomplicated goal.

“Ah, quite observant of you. Perhaps you are less daft than I give you credit for.” He said your name in the end, and the way it sounded on his tongue was now etched on every wall of your brain, stitched into the fibres of your memories.

It sounded wrong and right at the same time, dressed in silk and knives.

Your grip tightened around the book. “You’re avoiding the point. You didn’t follow the instructions in Potions.”

“Oh?” he asked, almost lazily. “Didn’t I?”

“You didn’t,” you insisted, before your courage slipped away. “The roses—you didn't grab them as everyone else did. Instead, you grabbed moonstones. And the—” you inhaled, “—the Jobberknoll feathers. You didn’t stir them clockwise. You waited.”

Silence stretched for a heartbeat. Then another.

Tom liften one eyebrow. He looked almost intrigued, and perhaps, for the first time, surprised by actions of another. “My, my, you do watch,” he murmured.

You swallowed. “So how? You can’t just guess with Veritaserum. One wrong step and it’s useless—or worse.”

Tom tilted his head slightly, as if considering how much rope to hand you. “You’re making a mistake,” he said at last.

You bristled. “Excuse me?”

“Do you really think a textbook provided by a school that censors certain types of spells is reliable?” he took a step forward, and you gulped thickly, your lips going dry once more.

Tom’s shadow stretched over you like something sentient—calculated, patient, waiting. His voice dropped into something softer, yet still sharp enough for goosebumps to appear all over your delicate skin.

“Do you truly believe,” he murmured, “that Hogwarts of all places would ever allow students access to the real method of brewing a potion the Ministry itself fears?”

Your breath stilled.

“Slughorn’s class was merely a performance of sorts. To make passive students not dare to think they are being choked by limitations.” Tom’s eyes narrow and his voice gets thicker, almost….venomous. “The best way to keep a prisoner from escaping—“

“Is to make sure he never knows he’s in prison.” You murmur, and Tom raises an eyebrow once more.

“Hm, so you know Dostoyevsky?”

You fight the urge to squirm under his intense gaze, your mind still under the hazy effect of his voice and his dark yet magnetic eyes. You stare at the bookshelf behind him, avoiding the heaviness of his pupils on you, “Yes.”

“One of the few muggles that ever piqued my interest. A shame he was cursed for a life so….ordinary, really.”

A quiet breath escaped you, barely audible. “Why are you telling me all this?”

His head tilted like a cat regarding something newly alive under its paw.

“You wouldn’t…” your voice faltered, tightening around the truth you feared, “say these things to just anyone. Would you?”

A slow smirk tugged at his mouth. “Smart girl,” he said softly, the praise somehow feeling like a hand closing around your throat. “No. I certainly wouldn’t waste my breath on just anyone.”

Your fingers tightened around the book again. “Then—what is it you want?”

He stepped closer.

The air changed.

It thickened. Burned. As if every book behind you was aflame and you were choking on its carbon monoxide.

Tom leaned in with the deliberate grace of a predator who never rushed for his kill. The proximity pushed the breath from your lungs, leaving your ribs tight and trembling.

You weren’t used to this. To such proximity by another human being. The most you’ve gotten were slaps from your insufferable aunt, while she screamed how much she hated you. And when you kissed your crush in a Muggle school when you were ten, and he screamed to the teacher that the witch had tried to kidnap him.

Another so close to you should have repulsed you. Should have triggered your instinct to take flight and never look back.

And yet not a bone in your body moved because it felt…exhilarating. New. Alien.

“What do I want?” he echoed, voice dropping into something dangerously intimate.

“I want to tutor you.”

He leaned back, expression as neutral as always. You didn’t catch a smirk, not even an eyebrow twitch. It was as if the moment never happened. And perhaps it was all in your head, your touch-starved hormones sending false signals to your body.

You blinked. Once. Twice. As if the floor had just tilted under you.

“Tutor—me?”

A faint curl touched his lips. “You certainly need it. If you continue on your current path, you won’t receive more than an Acceptable in Potions. If that.” His gaze dipped briefly to the book pressed to your chest. “And you want to pass with at least an Exceed Expectations in your N.E.W.T’s, or am I wrong?”

“You are not wrong, but…..” Heat rushed uninvited to your ears. “What’s in it for you? You never tutored anyone, not that anyone knows of.”

Tom’s eyes sharpened, darkening like ink poured into water.

He didn’t smile this time.

“A favour,” he said simply.

Your stomach dropped. “What kind of favour?”

Tom blinked, his face as impassive as ever, stone cold. No smirk, no eyebrow lift.

“I will tell you when I need it.”

You gulped thickly, heat spreading through your neck. You’ve heard of this—men taking advantage of vulnerable women like you for sexual favours. Just last week, you heard your roommate saying a Gryffindor man tried bargaining a Quidditch favour for nights with her.

Men were becoming too audacious, and you couldn’t submit yourself to such a nightmare. You were quiet, but you had self-respect.

“I am not a whore.”

The words tumbled out louder than you meant, sharp enough to slice the silence between the shelves.

Tom Riddle’s expression shifted.

A flicker of surprise cracked through that perfect composure—the faintest widening of his eyes, a subtle stutter in the set of his jaw.

“A whore?” he repeated, as though tasting the word on his tongue.

Heat flooded your cheeks. “I do not want your help for you to use me for sexual favours—”

Tom cut you off with a soundless exhale, something halfway between disbelief and irritation.

“Do you truly think I need to bargain for sex?”

The contempt in his tone was so understated, so cleanly delivered, that it made your shame burn hotter.

He stepped forward—slowly, deliberately—until the distance between you felt perilously thin.

“If I wanted a warm body,” he said, voice low with an edge of ice, “Hogwarts is full of desperate, shallow-minded girls who would throw themselves at me with no hesitation.”

Your throat tightened.

“I do not barter for things I can acquire without cost,” he continued. “And certainly not for something as… trivial… as sex.”

Your heart hammered so violently you wondered if he could hear it.

Tom leaned back, his face impassive as he looked at you up and down, eyes heavy with judgment and something almost like…disgust.

“And you,” he added, eyes sweeping over your unnervingly precise features, “are certainly not someone I would approach for that.”

You weren’t sure whether the sting that followed was relief or an unexpected bruise.

You wanted to ask what he meant by that, but you shut your throat before the words could tumble out. Questions lead to answers your ears didn’t want, and you certainly learned your lesson with the ones that spilled out from you today.

You stood quietly, ignoring the embarrassment from moments ago, and pondered on Tom’s proposition. You needed a good grade on your N.E.W.T’s; that was one fact you could not deny. To reach your destiny as a healer, you needed a chunk of good grades, and potions were a necessary one.

On the other hand, help from Tom Riddle was like bargaining with the devil himself. Tempting, and perhaps could lead to your success, but at any time, he could pull the strings to your own doom and watch you fall with a smirk on his face.

And yet…

Your mind flickered back to Slughorn’s voice announcing the upcoming evaluation, to your cauldron stained with failure, to the roadmap of your future splintering if you couldn’t pass the one subject that mattered most.

It wouldn’t be forever. And once this tumultuous time in your life passed, even if your invisibility could be tarnished for a second, the road would turn straight again, with no distractions. As if this sidetrack never existed in the first place.

And finally, you made up your mind.

“I accept your offer, then.”

Tom smirked and shook your hand. You felt it burning under his palm and your chest felt hollow, as if you’d temporarily sold your soul to him. To the devil.

His grip was deliberate, controlled, and far too steady for the chaos erupting in your chest. A chill climbed your spine, then heat flushed in its wake, blooming under your skin like ink spreading through water.

It felt wrong.

It felt dangerous.

It felt… inevitable.

“Wise decision,” he murmured. “We start tomorrow straight after class. Meet me in the astronomy tower.”

You opened your mouth—perhaps to agree, perhaps to protest—but Tom had already turned, cloak brushing the stone floor with surgical precision as he moved deeper into the library’s shadows.

He didn’t look back.

You swallowed thickly and clutched the book in your hand to your chest, as if it could save your fast-beating heart.

Your mind then wandered—had you sealed your doom or opened your fate?

You couldn’t decide which was worse.

The ground shook under you. You could feel the pathway you so intricately planned for your future cracking right underneath your nose. The sphere of what you deemed reality shattered, and you were now vulnerable to the whispers of questioning.

No, you couldn't let his silky voice worm inside your head. Tom Riddle was solely a parasite that you could easily cure within a week. You certainly weren't interested in keeping his eyes on you for longer than that, and so, you would get over with his tutoring and swiftly do his favour—just get it over with so your paths can never cross again.

You shook your head, running away from your thoughts and walked to the table where your bag resided. You were about put the book Tom gave to you inside, but you hesitated for a second. You traced the beat-up cover with your fingers, your thoughts running wild, dissecting every word, every second of your interaction.

You weren't daft, you knew this was a part of some bigger plan inside his head. Observing Tom the way you did, for as long as you did, you knew everything he did was deliberate. Every move, every smile, every word that came out of his sultry lips was a chess move in a bigger game inside his head.

But you just couldn't figure out what he wanted with someone like you. The no-face, the invisible background character that served as a void in important people's lives.

You sighed and placed the book inside the bag—there was no way you would be able to focus on studying potions after the day you had. You knew your brain would be distracted dissecting your interaction with Tom Riddle to pay attention to instructions on how to brew a potion.

That night, sleep became a foe once more, and when it came time for amends, you dreamt of sultry lips and fangs.

The next morning bled grey through the dungeon windows. A bitter light shone on you, determined to remind you of the hollow in your eyes. Your body moved on autopilot, pulling on robes, knotting your tie, brushing your hair back into a disguise of normalcy.

Acid pooled inside your stomach as a new feeling submerged—uncertainty.

Before, your day was predictable. Every step was the same, every interaction could be molded into a short and boring script no writer would ever bother to read.

But now it was a blank page.

Your hands twitched at the thought. You hated it. Blank pages meant risk; it meant anything, and everything could happen. And the fact that a dark ink called Tom Riddle would stain those same pages made you uneasy. Weary of your surroundings.

The corridors hummed with the morning rush, but their rhythm felt different. You kept your eyes low, watching polished shoes click against the flagstones and chatter pollute the hallway. You usually slipped into that current unnoticed, but today it was as if the tide threatened to pull you under.

You entered the dining hall swiftly as you always did, but the air felt heavier. Your eyes immediately found a certain Slytherin, who sat at the far end corner with other ambitious and pure-blooded peers. He ate quietly, but you saw his gaze—he was observing his surroundings. Like a hawk. Like you.

You went to your regular seat at the sidelines and grabbed the bread you always did. The hall buzzed with noise, yet every sound rang muted—too far, too hollow. You pretended to study the surface of your plate, but your peripheral vision was traitorous. It kept flicking toward him.

His presence was always a heavy one, but now it called your eyes like a siren whisper, one you could not resist. You just had to look at him. Perhaps you were waiting for something to happen, now that it was revealed he knew you. Observed you.

Your mind whispered reminders of yesterday, of his voice wrapping around your name like a clandestine spell. Tom Riddle had carved his presence into your bones—every step you took, you would scan if his eyes were watching you. Breathing your invisible presence in.

Tom sat at the far end, surrounded by the same orbit of polished, ambitious Slytherins that always trailed behind him like obedient shadows. Lestrange, Rosier, Avery—they filled the air with laughter, but Tom sat in his usual ominous silence.

He lifted his cup with deliberate grace, lips brushing its rim, eyes scanning the hall. For one terrible heartbeat, you thought his eyes would find yours. A flicker for more than a second perhaps, an evidence that the events of yesterday were not a figment of your imagination.

But he didn't look your way.

You looked back at your bread and straightened your posture, trying not to seem like you were waiting. Your hands trembled against your lap as you rehearsed a neutral expression.

You understood. Your presence was quiet. Invisible. It wasn't heavy like Tom Riddle's; it didn't call attention. Perhaps he needed to put in an effort to find you in the crowd, one he wasn't interested in doing at 7 in the morning.

Time passed, students strolled through the halls back and forth, when, finally, through your peripheral vision, Tom stood.

He moved through the hall, and the air seemed to thicken whenever his steps were near. His robes brushed the edge of your table. You could smell that faint, sterile scent of parchment and clove.

Your chest tightened. He was close enough now—close enough that one word could reach him.

Your lips parted, a breath catching before sound could form.

But he didn’t look.

Not once.

You stared down at your untouched plate, the weight of the bread still heavy in your hand. Something cold and ugly twisted in your chest—a mix of humiliation and relief.

You cursed yourself for thinking he would ever acknowledge your presence—for wanting it.

You had forgotten what his attention meant, the poison it would bring to your peaceful life, corrupting every thread you've built over the years. Tom Riddle's eyes on you meant you would be seen by everyone else, and there was nothing more dangerous than being acknowledged.

You were dragged out of your pit of thoughts by an annoying, high-pitched voice you unfortunately came to know.

“You look quite desperate, you know.” Ophelia sat beside you and quickly grabbed the bread from your plate.

Your jaw tightened. “Good morning to you too,” you muttered.

Ophelia hummed and continued to take a bite from your bread. “Indeed a very good morning. I mean, it was a boring morning, so I came here to see some…entertainment. And my, my, you certainly delivered.” Her eyes glinted with vicious amusement as she turned fully toward you.

“You came to me for entertainment?” You raised one eyebrow and Ophelia chuckled.

“My boredom was just too great this morning.” Ophelia yawned and grabbed a cup of water from the table, “You know, you really should stop letting your eyes wander off to Tom Riddle, or one might think you might have a…crush on him.” Ophelia sipped on her drink and you scoff.

You took a rather rough bite of your bread as you replied , “I already told you, I do not have a crush on him.”

“Everyone has a crush on Tom Riddle, darling, so, forgive me for not believing you.” Ophelia snorted and sipped her water, “Well, even if you don't, here's some friendly advice: stay away from him.” She leaned her head, her lips touching your ear, as if she were to conspire a coup against an empire. “He is bad news and dangerous. I wouldn't want to have you tangled in his…business.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, but before questions could blurt out of your mouth, Ophelia placed her drink on the table and smiled, as the moment before had just been a figment of your wild imagination. You stared at her, bewildered, but most of all…curious.

“I'm going to be late for my first lesson. I'll see you….around.” She didn’t wait for a response—she never did. Her heels clicked against the stone floor as she melted back into the crowd, leaving behind the faint scent of something floral.

You remained seated for a moment longer, staring at the space she’d occupied.

Bad news and dangerous.

The words echoed, aiding the vines of curiosity to grow even deeper into your mind. They were poisonous for your future, for your dreams of tranquility, but their glimmer was too hard to ignore. You couldn't help but wonder what Ophelia could possibly have meant. Did she know Tom so personally that she was in her right to give warnings? Or was she basing herself on rumours?

But what rumours?

You were a ghost through Hogwarts halls, and could hear the whispers through its walls. You knew almost every rumour—you heard every sneer, every gossip when students thought they were away from prying eyes, because well, you were a wall to them.

And you had never heard of such a rumour. Tom was regarded with rose-coloured eyes by every student, save for those who spat his name in envy of his natural talents and charm. Most were men, of course, who eyed him like competition for their fragile egos.

You pushed yourself to stand and forced the lingering thoughts out of your head. Now was not the time to enter the maze your curiosity trapped you in, and perhaps it never would be the time. As Ophelia said, you couldn't et entangled within Tom Riddle's web. Deeper than you already were anyway. If you had any hope of escaping and continuing down the path you were always meant to tread.

The bench scraped softly against the stone floor. The Great Hall felt too open now, too full of eyes, even if none of them truly saw you. You slipped away with practiced ease, letting louder presences swallow the space you left behind.

Classes passed in a haze.

Charms dissolved into murmurs and wand movements you copied by muscle memory alone. Even Herbology, the class that always seemed to pique your interest, failed to anchor you. Your quill moved when it was meant to, ink forming neat lines you barely remembered writing. You nodded at the right moments, turned pages when others did, and laughed when laughter was expected.

But your thoughts were elsewhere.

They lingered on the way Ophelia’s voice had dipped when she warned you. On the word she used—dangerous. You figured she must have passed some time with Tom and his circle since she was related to one of them, but how deep into their circle was she?

During potions, your eyes couldn't help but shift toward the enigmatic figure that haunted your daydreams, the seed of the very vines that corrupted your thoughts. He was watching Slughorn as he entered one of his lectures on how potions were vital for every witch and wizard's life on the future, and you could see there was no flicker inside his pupils. No darknes. Just…boredom.

You sighed as your hand struggled to register the words of your professor. It was as if your mind had detached from your body, going rogue so it could run into the forbidden cavern of thoughts that, in which a shadow awaited for you with enigmatic eyes and a smirk from the devil himself.

Your eyes, though, were a servant to your rogue brain, and found the shadow hidden in the dark caverns of your mind once again.

Tom Riddle stood perfectly, as he always did, and listened to Slughorn the way a king might entertain a jester.

You forced your gaze back to your notes.

“Potions are the backbone of practical magic” Slughorn boomed, voice warm and round. “They teach discipline, intuition—”

Your eyes moved again, and you noticed how Tom’s quill didn’t move.

Yours, and everyone else's, did in an automatic way. Almost robotic. You wrote what was expected, even as a strange tension coiled in your chest. You stared back at your notebook, and decided to force your eyes to stay fixed where it were safe, even if your mind wasn't.

You thought of the night before, and an uneasy feeling crept its way into your stomach. You couldn't fathom what favour he would ask of you when the time came, but if the feeling inside you were to be right, it was not going to be any good. You unconsciously bit the feather of your quill—had you just made a deal with the devil? How were you supposed to know, when he had a face of an angel and the voice of a siren?

Well, no way to back down now. Besides, you needed good grades on your NEWTS, and perhaps you could learn to make your potion skills be as half as good as Tom's. It would certainly already be a great advantage.

After classes went by, you would usually take your free time to continue your book in your dorm, drowning yourself in the comfort of solitude and lost in the words of Dostoyevsky.

But that day, by the time the sun began its slow descent, staining the windows with amber and gold, you turned away from the familiar paths.

It was a subtle, and you were sure no one would notice, because who would? Everyone preferred to read about their worlds than take their eyes off their own book and read another's. Especially one as boring as yours. But still, your pulse quickened as your feet carried you up narrow staircases you rarely used.

You counted your steps without meaning to. Not because of where you were going, but who you were going to.

Every step was one closer inside the dangerous cavern. To Tom Riddle.

The higher you climbed, the quieter it became. The murmurs of students dissolved into echoes, then into nothing at all.

When you reached the Astronomy Tower, the door was already ajar.

You hesitated only a second before pushing it open, the hinges whispering rather than creaking. The tower greeted you with open sky and wind sharp enough to bite.

A dark figure stood near the edge, back turned to you. You turned to his side, and caught the presence of two cauldrons sitting on the floor, as well as ingredients for whatever potion he might teach you today.

Tom Riddle’s figure looked carved from the night itself, like a shadow waiting ominously for its meal. He was crushing something on the wood with a knife, and you flinched when his voice boomed through the room.

“You’re late,” he said sharply without turning.

“I’m not,” you replied quietly, closing the door behind you. “You’re just early.”

A pause choked the air before he turned, slow and precise, dark eyes settling on you with unnerving focus. The corner of his mouth lifted—not into a smile, but something close enough to unsettle you.

“Fair,” he said.

He gestured toward the space beside him before going back his ministrations. You moved there without thinking, your bag resting at your feet as the wind tugged at your robes.

“Won’t we get caught?” You gulp as you tread slowly toward Tom, “I remember headmaster Dippet explicitly saying the astronomy tower was off limits this season. With…Grindelwald and all.”

Tom didn’t look away from the ingredients as you spoke. His hands continued their precise work, blade rising and falling in a smooth rhythm.

He was calm. Too calm. As if the prospect of getting caught never crossed his mind.

“Dippet says many things,” he replied coolly. “Most of them are meant to soothe fear, not prevent danger.”

“Is that so? What about the dementors, then? I'm sure they're not roaming around Hogwarts trying to soothe fear.”

Tom stopped his movements for a brief moment, and once his head turned, your breath hitched for the faintest moment. You had forgotted how alluring, how dangerous his gaze on you was.

“Dementors,” he said at last, tasting the word with quiet disdain, “are not here to protect anyone. Do you really think a powerful wizard like Grindelwald wouldn't find his way through some meek dementors?” He turned back to the table, resuming his work as if the interruption had been no more than a passing thought.

You furrowed your eyebrows, gulping down the acid that formed in your throat, “Then why…?”

Tom talked once more, and his words held a viciousness that cut through the whispering wind. “I am not here to give you a lesson in how the ministry works. I am here to make you a master in potions.”

You opened your mouth–once, twice, but nothing came out of your throat. You couldn't form words, you couldn't form a question. You cleared your throat, and finally, your voice found its place. “Just...I'll ask again, and you need to answer me—what if we are caught? What will you do, then, Tom? What’s your grand plan to not get us in detention?” You crossed your arms, feeling your erratic heartbeat inside your chest. “Or worse, expelled.”

He finally set the knife down and turned to face you fully. Up close.

The night sharpened his features—hollowing his cheeks, darkening his eyes until they looked almost endless. An infinite pool one could easily drown in.

“No one will come,” Tom said. “And even if they do, I am head boy. I’m certain I could think of something…convincing that would get us out of trouble.”

Your stomach tightened at the ease with which he said it. Head boy. He was supposed to be righteous in his position; only the best of the best students ever achieved such a high-ranking status within the school. Some students sought their whole academic lives to be where he is. And yet, here Tom was, talking of lying and utilizing his power as a means to escape as if it were…nothing.

“And if that doesn’t work?” you pressed on, hating the way your voice wavered despite your effort to keep it steady.

Tom studied you for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then—slowly—he smiled.

Not kindly. Not reassuringly, but….Confidently.

“Oh, it will. You can trust me.”

You scoff lightly, a small amount of courage sparking the words outside of your throat, “I don't know you, Tom.” You take a step towards him. Slowly, cautiously. “I mean…I know what everyone else sees, but…something tells me you're much more than what you let people see of you. It's like asking me to trust a stranger.”

“Now that's a smart observation, little witch,” Tom said softly. “Indeed, you don’t know me. But you can analyze the facts. I would be faced with consequences just like you—if not more—if we were caught inside this tower. If you go down, I go down. And do you really think I would put my position in jeopardy?” Tom raised one eyebrow, and you sighed.

He made sense, damn it.

“Fine. You make sense.” You squinted your eyes, “But I do not trust you.”

“Ah, you do well in not doing so,” Tom smirked, and it was as if his eyes opened their grey fog and made way for a small spark of amusement. “You do impress me a bit more as time goes on, little witch.”

Your breath hitched, “What does that even mea–”

“Now,” Tom interrupted you by swiftly turning around, his robe following him as he walked toward the part of the wooden floor where two empty cauldrons stood. He turned toward you once more. “Tonight, you will brew Amortentia. But not the Hogwarts version, full of its restraints to make meek students fail.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Amortentia? Isn't that a 6th-year potion?”

“Do you observe everything but class?” Tom groaned as he rolled his eyes, “If you were to put your observation skills where they really mattered, instead of worthless students’ lives, you would know that Slughorn has tells whenever he is explaining a quiz.” Tom grumbled, “Since NEWTS are about everything we have learned, he is trying to surprise us with a potion he knows most people have forgotten the first ingredient it takes to make it.”

You bristled. “Learning about others is not worthless.”

Tom paused mid-step. Just for a fraction of a second, but you caught it. His shoulders stilled, the air around him tightening like a held breath.

“Most are,” he corrected coolly, turning back to you. “You just have to pick the right ones to dissect. Most of our peers live in ignorance—they drift through Hogwarts believing that their effort alone will make them exceptional. It won’t. I mean, do you see every student with O's or EE's on their tests?” Tom chuckles slowly, “Well, awareness gets them there. Observing the right things, you start to notice patterns, and just how…deceiving tradition really is. But everyone is too busy looking over their own lives to observe the reality around them.” His eyes flicked to you pointedly. “You have that gift, you know. But you squander it.”

Your jaw tightened, irritation bleeding into something uncomfortably close to the truth. But then, a moment of thinking, of digesting his words, your eyebrows furrowed as a crippling sensation traveled down your spine. “And how do you even know what I observe?”

Tom’s face never changed. No twitch. No confident, eerie smirk. He simply stared sinisterly. “It is logical, really. Were you to observe classes, you would have noticed Slughorn’s pauses. The way his voice dipped when he mentioned Amortentia, as he was listing the possible potions for the pop quiz. The way he overexplains so no one questions what he does.”

He stepped closer—not abruptly, never abruptly. You stared at him back, “And you never follow his explanations, do you?”

Tom grinned, and seeing his eerie smile sent an ominous feeling down your spine. “Correct, little witch. I don’t live by the confinements dictated by Hogwarts books. I make my own, and everyone one day shall know it.” You were about to ask what he meant when he then gestured toward the cauldron on the left. “Come. I shall teach you to do the same. It is my part of the deal, after all.”

You hesitated only a moment before stepping forward. The stone beneath your shoes was cold, the wind licking at your ankles as you stopped beside him. Tom pointed at the cauldron, then at the ingredients laid out with meticulous care.

“Tell me what you see,” he said.

“The ingredients for Amortentia, I suppose?” You raised one eyebrow, and Tom nodded stoically.

“Correct. And what do you know about this potion?”

You licked your lips before clearing your throat, “It's the most powerful love potion there is. It makes the person who drinks it fall in love with—“

“Ah, you’re already wrong, little witch.”

Blood went up your cheeks as you frowned, “What? But that’s the description—“

“Of the 6th year potions book?” Tom sighed in disappointment, and you looked down. Somehow, even though you barely knew him, his approval sparked something inside you. And his disappointment led to a slight fog of shame sinking into your stomach.

“You’re thinking inside the box, just like every other sheep inside this herd.” Tom walked from side to side, his hand tied behind his back. His deep voice boomed through the tower, “Amortentia isn’t really a love potion, now is it? It makes the person obsessed. There is a keen difference that not many people can decipher. The potion isn’t meant to create love, but obsession.” Tom’s eyes flicked to you, sharp and assessing. “Desire, passion, lust—but not love.” He said emotionlessly, “Love is a slow, irrational surrender built over time that makes you weak. Amortentia is nothing more than an illusion of that weakness. No potion could ever imitate that raw, pathetic human feeling.”

You raised an eyebrow, “You seem awfully well-read in love.” You smirked, “Have you ever been in love?”

Tom’s posture immediately went rigid, and he looked at you with the eyes of a snake, puncturing every inch of your soul with its fangs. “Love?” Tom repeated slowly, as if testing the shape of the words on his tongue, finding it distasteful.

“I have read about it. Not because I was fascinated by it, but because people, when under its influence, had me curious.” He said, his tone almost eerily calm. “They grow so weak and predictable it's almost laughable. And they make that choice. They choose to be vulnerable for the whole world to stab a knife into their back.”

Tom chuckled, but no humour was laced in his voice. It was dark, so foreboding that it made your pulse want to scream. “So, no. I have not been in love. And do not want to be in love. I am better than to let myself surrender to such pointless attachments.”

The words hung between you like frost.

“That sounds… awfully lonely,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“Loneliness,” Tom huffed, “is a word invented by those who are scared of their own presence when licked by silence.” He stepped closer to the cauldron again, “Now, shall we continue, or do you want to waste our time even more with pointless questions?”

You stayed silent for a few moments and sighed. It was best not to waste your time asking questions about him, as it would only lead to dangerous paths. You had to find a way to keep your mouth shut and curiosity at bay if you wanted to come out of this deal unscathed.

Learning about the devil would only get you burned, after all.

Your gaze dropped to the ingredients laid before you: crushed rose petals, moonstone dust, and a curl of Jobberknoll feather resting beside a slender knife.

“So…about the potion. Were all the books—all the potions we made in class wrong?” you asked.

“Not wrong,” Tom corrected. “Just incomplete. You really think they would let the ingredients for one of the most dangerous love potions out in the open for reckless teenagers to abuse them? And so, a watered-down potion creates nothing dangerous.” His mouth curved faintly. “But I prefer accurate results, even if it means a little danger is sprinkled inside.”

The wind shifted, sweeping strands of your hair across your face. You brushed them back, stepping closer to the cauldron.

Tom moved behind you—close enough that you felt the warmth of his presence at your back. His touch never came, instead what you felt was a ghost of skin that sent goosebumps up your spine. His hand reached past your shoulder and whispered, “Incendio”, making a small fire start.

“First, you will forget what the book taught you,” he said, voice low near your ear, “Now…look at the ingredients. Tell me what you see.”

You frowned, scanning the cauldron. “Moonstone shavings. Crushed rose—not petals, the stem too. Peppermint, but dried longer than usual. Powdered pearl. Ashwinder egg.” You glanced at him. “That’s not the standard—”

“No,” he cut in sharply. “It isn’t.”

You gulped thickly, his presence behind you overbearing to your nerves, “I…how did you even get your hands on such ingredients?”

“Let’s just say I have my ways.”

“In other words, you stole them.” You turned to him and crossed your arms. Tom immediately took a step back, as if standing too close to you for too long was poison to his skin. You frowned slightly, but masked it with the same impassive face he mastered.

“I can't understand where this false sense of morality came from, but may I remind you that I caught you sneaking around the castle past curfew? You are not innocent, and I can't fathom why you are pretending to be so right now.”

“I….” You hesitated, a small blush forming on your face, ““I had my reasons for that, Riddle.” You sneered, and he ignored the spines of your words and walked toward the other side of the cauldrons.

“I don't doubt that.” Tom hummed, “But don't go preaching about rules on a moral high ground you clearly do not have.”

“I…” You couldn't answer. Words caught in the back of your throat, and Tom simply sat down on the floor, looking up at you with the most neutral face you've ever seen.

Ah, his impassive look was back.

“Now,” he continued,“ You see this?” He picked up a small jar of crushed rose stems.

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Rose stem,” you answered cautiously. “And…thorns, I think.”

“Good.” Tom set it down, then lifted the powdered pearl. “And this?”

“Powdered pearl. It's used as a buffer,” you said. You’d read once in a footnote, but your confidence faltered for a second. “For…consistency?”

“Not bad.” Tom’s eyes narrowed, approving in the smallest way, and for a reason unknown to you, a foggy yet fuzzy feeling brewed in the depths of your stomach.

He then reached for the Ashwinder egg. “Now, pay close attention, little witch. This,” he said, “is where most students ruin it.”

You blinked. “Why? It’s just a heat component.”

“That,” Tom corrected softly, “is what the book tells you.”

He stepped closer to the cauldron and drew his wand with smoothness. It was like him, and his wand was one. Just another part of his fingers.

The tip hovered above the fire, and the fire obeyed him, lowering its flame, as if it were his servant.

“Heat is not the point, see?” he murmured. “It’s timing.”

He set the egg beside the cauldron but didn’t add it.

You frowned. “Then when do you—”

“When the potion asks for it,” Tom cut in, and his eyes met yours. “Not when the book does.”

“What? How the hell are you supposed to know that?” You snorted, “Does the potion talk now?”

“Oh, you'll know, I assure you.” Tom's dark eyes fixated on you, and he tapped the space beside him. “Come on, sit. Put your observation skills to the test. This is where you'll need it most.”

You eyed the space suspiciously, your brain recoiling at the mere thought of his suffocating company so close to yours, yet your body followed his words, addicted to their allure.

You sat right beside him, your eyes never leaving the inside of the cauldron, ignoring the presence beside you that felt like a blade against your throat.

“Look inside,” he said simply.

You did exactly that.

The potion was still, not a flciker of movement inside. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying your best

“What do you see?” Tom asked.

“A potion,” you replied flatly.

His gaze slid to yours. “Try again.”

You swallowed. Your eyes returned to the surface. You forced yourself to find an anomaly. Observe the potion the way you did people—any flicker, any small tell that would serve as a clue to deciphering this riddle.

“The…consistency is changing,” you murmured after a moment. “It’s…thicker than it should be.”

Tom nodded, and you continued to watch as the potion continued to change, but it was so minimal that only an observant eye could spot it. You then see a faint bubble burst, almost in slow-motion, as if the potion were asking you to feed it, and then you exclaimed, “Now. Add…the ashwinder eggs?”

Tom smirked and added three ashwinder eggs to the cauldron, and the potion changed its colour to a faint purple, almost turning pink. You bit your lip, watching every change, every minimal tell, as if the potion was just another Hogwarts student you always deciphered.

You cleared your throat, “Rose thorns…? To make it pink?”

Tom hummed and poured the rose thorns into the cauldron, and the potion turned a strong pink, but still not the faint colour it required. “Your hesitation is pulling you back. You need to trust your words, even if you are not sure they are correct. When you have confidence, a mistake isn't an error, because no one doubts you.”

You gulped, your eyes never leaving the brewing. It shimmered again, the pink deepening, the surface tightening into something almost glass-like.

Observe.

Your eyes narrowed slightly, tracking every shift, every subtle movement, then, finally, it started turning a light pink as he stirred and stirred.

“There. You can stop stirring.” You let out a breath you were holding and turned to a stone-faced Tom Riddle. “Did it work?”

“Only one way to find out.” He gestured to the smoke coming out of the cauldron, “Smell it. If it smells awful, it didn't work. If it smells pleasant, well—you have your answer.”

You swallowed.

Then, slowly, you leaned forward.

You closed your eyes and inhaled. The smell was a breeze of curious scents, and your mouth spoke before you could even decipher what was coming out of it, “I-I…smell a quill’s ink and….the smell of stones after a night of rain and….. something metallic?”

You blinked your eyes open and stared at the potion, “That's weird…I thought it was supposed to smell what attracts you? Isn't it supposed to smell like flowers or something?”

Tom glanced at your face with an eyebrow raised, “Flowers?” he repeated, voice smooth, almost amused. “Is that what you expected?”

You frowned slightly, shifting your weight. “Well…yes. Something like that. Something…normal.”

Tom hummed under his breath, turning his attention briefly to the cauldron. The pink glow reflected faintly against his features, softening nothing, only making him look more unreal.

“Amortentia does not concern itself with what is normal,” he said coolly. “It reveals what you are drawn to. Whether you understand it…or not.”

“Maybe I failed?”

Tom blinked, his eyes moving to stare at the smoke, “No. You got it right. I've done it before.”

“Huh.” You hummed, “Well, what do you smell?”

Tom stays silent for a moment, tension thickening the air and almost grabbing your throat. You almost started overthinking, that maybe you shouldn’t have asked him, but then he broke what he created.

“Nothing.” He said cooly, his eyes fixated on the cauldron, “I smelled…nothing.”

“Huh? How can you not smell anything? Maybe I did do it wrong—“

Tom got up abruptly, causing you to follow suit. “Our lesson had finished, little witch. I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time.” He muttered something under his breath, and the cauldron and ingredients disappeared. And before you could open your mouth, Tom walked out so fast, you would think he apparated away.

You shook your head, startled, but those venomous vines of curiosity only grew more. It was a parasite in your brain, digging its thorns into your skin, begging you to relieve the pain by indulging in it. But you couldn’t. You already watered it too much today by asking too many questions for your liking, and if you were to make it rain, a storm would pour into your life.

So, you did what you did best: you ignored it and walked toward your bedroom, ignoring intrusive thoughts that wanted to get louder for your attention.

You did your nightly routine, ignoring the chatters of your roommates, and instead of reading before sleep, you let your thoughts drift. You replicated the events of the evening—of Tom’s dark yet alluring eyes, his instructions, his eerily curious lessons.

Until one specific memory came to mind, of Tom making the ingredients disappear….

Did he do wandless magic?!

[hamzakamehroomkurta]

𝔅𝔶𝔬𝔪𝔨𝔢𝔰𝔥 𝔅𝔞𝔨𝔰𝔥𝔦 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰

(I'm not experienced at all, so i apologize for any mistakes,etc. Take this with a grain of salt and a glass of thanda aam r juice xoxo)

𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 1

♤intellectual, loves riddles, solves cases like it's the next easiest thing, daaba/chess champion

♤intentionally leaves the first two buttons of his saada farshi kameez open, so that you can play with him later👅

♤khopa te golap guje deowa, loves owning you, dom, loves leaving you w bruises from last night,(my man's genuinely freakyy) loves seeing u yearn under him, tumul eye contact, doesn't wanna wear thick glasses, but wears them when you want him to see u in just gamcha and bheja chul.

♤loves eating you out, knowing no one can do it the way he does(he says years of gache uthe aam parar experience helps), sometimes vanilla, pins you to the lazarus khaat, gently unfurling the moshari as its woven threaded tapestry falls to the floor

♤His daaknaam for you is Satya(my truth), as he calls himself Satyanweshi(truth-seeker)

♤gramaphone paglu. Loves buying you ur favorite records and plays them as yall get freaky, so that ajit doesn't hear(he does😭)

♤chaand er raate chaad e giye golpo gujob, shares case details, looks at you as if the moon's reflection from ur iris is all that he needs to see. When asked, he says, 'amar chaand amar chokhusomokkhe thakle, akash er ta toh boyei gelo'~

♤bhor sokal yawns, as he wakes up and notices u sleeping, he whispers 'subho sokal satya' and leaves, but not without waking u up 5 mins later with ur fav Darjeeling cha and a rather long makeout sesh disguised as a 'missed you sara raat'(as if yall didnt do each other sara raat)

♤wears dhuti and golden pocket watch, a gift that u gave him, everyday without fail. When he goes out to solve cases, especially when he needs some extra courage, he holds onto that pocket watch tightly, as if gaining shokti from his Shakti.

♤he loves when u sing his favorite songs, and hold his biceps tightly during pujo pandel crowds, but will never say that. Gotta keep up the Satyanweshi image in front of others, but he is always the no 1 boupagluuu

tagsss:

@catharsis-9 @rosesandpeoniesthings @sparksfromhell @yearnerray @gloriouspurpose01

[ramayantika]

Hi btw is someone in contact with simran? She was alhad-si-simran on Tumblr

[ramayantika]

Mujhe jaise insaan jisko thand mein bhi garmi lagti hai kaise yeh garmi jhelega

[ramayantika]

I just remembered how much of a big crush I had on the adult male actor playing Shubh in that Asur webseries

[iheartyuyu]

5 times sukuna was heavily yearning + 1 time you finally noticed.

oblivious, lonely reader who’s used to doing things alone x downbad!sukuna. jealous!sukuna. gn!reader. reader wears glasses. uncle!sukuna. sukuna calls reader angel. he’s so down bad bro. ooc sukuna as usual. mentions of nsfw contents.

— ☆ —

1. movie nights.

you had a specific, detailed, high maintenance routine for watching movies. you had slowly perfected the process— a mental to do list popping up every time a new movie dropped that you needed to watch.

first, you needed to be in your designated ‘movie night pajamas’, the most comfortable you owned. your favorite blanket had to be there, along with your favorite pillow for support. you liked watching in your home more than cinemas, because you disliked the idea of not being able to pause the movie for whatever reason. who decided to make bathroom breaks that short, anyways?

for snacks, chips poured into your favorite bowl, your favorite niche flavor. a chocolate bar sat beside it just incase the movie got intense enough for you to crave it. your favorite drink was set beside them in a thermal cup, allowing you to drink it as slow as possible without it melting too quickly.

your phone had to be on dnd, blocking out every notification. the room had to be cold, and you avoided any distractions because pausing the movie on piracy websites meant three minutes of closing ads to turn it back on.

tonight, everything was perfect.

you were perfectly wrapped in your blanket, eyes wide as it watched the screen perfectly, chips tasting perfect, drink perfected, everything absolutely perfect—

bzzz.

you immediately groaned. who could possibly be showing up? you hadn’t ordered food. no one was invited over. it was late. what could possibly be urgent enough to prompt someone to ruin your little routine?

you paused the movie (which took three minutes of pressing ‘x’ on ads urging you to ‘text hot, single ladies in your area’, and ‘ai bots who can make you cum in three minutes!’), pushed the blanket off, and pulled the door open with a soft pout you didn’t even register, just to pause when you saw sukuna standing there, eyebrows furrowed, frowning.

you and sukuna weren’t that close, really. you were in the same friend group, but you always felt nervous around him. he was intimidating, scary, too cool for you. he always stared at you blankly, and you decided he was judging you for… everything. you were awkward, nervous, a little odd.

so, him showing up to your home at midnight was a little… nerve-wracking. his red eyes slowly scanned your comfortable, worn out pajamas, messy hair, tiny pout that faded as your eyes widened, before he blinked blankly. “sorry for showing up unannounced.”

he didn’t sound apologetic. at all. his tone was monotonous, almost unamused.

“can i come in?”

you slowly blinked, before realizing how dumb you must look. you grimaced internally, stepping aside, letting him in. immediately, his eyes landed on your little set up, and he arched an eyebrow. “movie night, huh? watching part two of your little movie series?”

“how did you know?” you mumbled, genuinely confused. much to your surprise, his lips twitched up in something that looked like admiration, amused, and it was the closest you ever got to see him smile.

holy fuck, he was so gorgeous it felt unfair. now that you were actually focusing on the man towering over you, dressed in a black shirt and gray sweatpants, tanned skin peaking from under his clothes, muscles on view—

“it’s your favorite series, and it just dropped. i can recognize the sketchy ass website because you hate netflix. you have your little movie night routine, pajamas, chips, and drink.” he murmured casually, nonchalantly, as if it was normal that the guy you thought disliked you knew this much about you. “i listen, you know.”

your jaw was slack, eyes wide. he only snorted, arching an eyebrow. “don’t tell me fucking gojo was right and you really think i hate you.”

you paused. “well…”

“are you serious?” sukuna scoffed. “you’re my fucking favorite in the group, dumbass.”

“what?” you mumbled back, more confused. “you always glare at me. you never talk to me. i was starting to think you didn’t even know my last name.”

he stared at you, almost as if you were insane, then sighed. “you really are oblivious, huh?”

“hey—“

he shook his head, still looking mildly amused. “here’s the notes suguru said he would drop by to give you and forgot. i know you like studying early.”

“oh. you didn’t have to—“

“i wanted to.” he immediately stated, face serious. “‘ll leave you to it, can’t have someone ruining your perfect night. goodnight.”

with that, he was out, leaving you even more flabbergasted.

what. the. fuck.

2. hangouts.

you were still getting used to the idea that sukuna told you that not only did he not hate you, but that you were his favorite in the group. to you, the idea was unbelievable. flabbergasting. maybe even a little more scarier than being hated by him for some reason, but you managed pretty well.

at least you were more comfortable hanging out with your group now.

however, you had a tiny little habit. you hated the coffee at the place your friends loved, so often, you just walked away to the place next to it to buy your own coffee. it provided you a break, making the little pit of your stomach that grows when having to be around people, even your best friends, for too long reset, and you just get a chance to catch your breath.

today wasn’t different. in the middle of the hangout, you grabbed your wallet and slipped out, enjoying the tiny walk in fresh air before you stepped into your favorite cafe.

the familiar barista immediately lit up at the sight of you, boredom fading from his face. he was your age, friendly with a cute grin that grew whenever you two chatted— something that made you feel at ease when ordering.

“my favorite customer,” he immediately greeted, grinning. the bell at the door chimed, and you both didn’t pay any mind to it. “i wonder what you will order this time.”

you snorted. you both knew you ordered the exact same thing every single time. “yeah, i wonder too.”

he chuckled, eyes flickering to the screen. you could feel a figure stopping behind you. “well, you know your total.”

you hummed, about to pay, when the familiar scent of sukuna’s signature perfume finally registered in your mind as he moved to step beside you, eyes narrowed, jaw slowly twitching. “make it two.”

you slowly glanced up. the barista looked up in surprise, before he nodded calmly. “of course.”

before you could register it, sukuna’s card was pressing against the machine, paying for you both. your jaw went slack for the second time this week, flabbergasted once more, but sukuna was already pulling you out of line so that the people behind you could pay.

and, more unfazed that he should be by his own actions, he casually held out the receipt. “here. you take the code and collect points on their app, right?”

“…how the fuck do you even know that?” you mumbled, utterly confused. “why are you here? how did you find me— did you even know what you ordered—“

“easy there, angel.” he murmured, calm. “you always carry the receipt and i see you type something from it on your phone often. ‘m here because the coffee in the other shop is ass. you always come here, so i figured i would try my coffee with you. i know what i ordered because i know your order.”

you openly gaped at him. he only reached over, grabbing both drinks, arching an eyebrow. “are you gonna gape at me forever or drink this sweet shit?”

“…did you just call me angel?”

his amusement immediately faded, ears turning red as he shoved your drink your way, looking away. “absolutely not. hallucinations. let’s go.”

that was what he chooses to deny? not that he knew your movie night in details? that he knew your exact drink? that he knew you secretly collected points from your favorite coffee shop?

you let out a tiny chuckle, amused, following behind him. that somehow managed to make his ears even more red, a scowl pulling on his pretty lips.

fuck. he was gorgeous, and adorable.

how horrible for you.

3. aquarium.

you laid face-down on shoko’s bed, face showed between the pillows, eyes shut in pure horror. “‘m so screwed.”

she sighed for the nth time from where she sat on the ground, studying. “you quite literally could not be more not screwed.”

“i have a crush on him, shoko. i never have crushes. and now i have one, on fucking sukuna. the guy once punched a guy for breathing ‘his’ air. he fucking hates people. i am so utterly fucked. he will kill me.”

she glanced up, as if she knew something you didn’t. “he won’t kill you. kiss you? maybe.”

“stop being delusional.” you mumbled, voice muffled as you buried your face into the sand further. “‘m so fucked.”

she sighed. “you’re delusional too if you don’t realize what’s happening. anyways, isn’t it the twenty seventh? your monthly aquarium night?”

you jumped up, gasping. “it is! fuck!” you quickly grabbed your phone to check the time, before opening the aquarium’s instagram page just in case there were any updates.

and, unfortunately, right there on their instagram story, posted twelve hours ago, was a simple statement.

‘couples only day!’

“oh, fuck my fucking life.” you mumbled, eyes on the story, shoulders drooping. “shoko, be my aquarium date.”

“couples only, huh? if only these weren’t the conditions,” she mused, almost flirty, before tilting her head.

“yes.”

“ask sukuna to go with you.”

you blinked once, twice, before pulling up your phone, nodding, serious. “good idea. ‘m asking gojo or geto.”

“that is quite literally not what i said.”

“you’re a genius.”

you sent off a quick text to geto and gojo, jumping off her bed to head to your own apartment to get ready. after dressing up all cute for the sake of your loved marine animals, you glanced down at your phone, where a vague text from gojo said he couldn’t, followed by maybe three million crying emojis (which was maybe because he had begged before to accompany you said no. aquariums were a single, you-only trip), and geto sent back a simple ‘he’s almost there’, and a thumbs up.

what kind of reply was that? you frowned, sending five questions marks, about to ask who the fuck ‘he’ was, when your doorbell rings.

you pulled the door open, and freeze when your eyes landed on the one and only sukuna. he glanced at you, eyes blank, and nodded once. “let’s go.”

“…where?”

he raised an eyebrow. “the aquarium. date night. let’s go.”

“…are you sure?” you immediately mumbled, voice uncharacteristically low. “‘m, uh, kind of enthusiastic about this. nerdy. geeky. um, annoying.”

his lips twitched up into an endeared smile that he immediately pushed back. “i know what ‘m getting into. let’s go.”

you grabbed your jacket, eyebrows furrowing. “suguru could have just said he couldn’t come. i’m sorry he sent you instead.”

“oh, he could come.” sukuna stated blankly, stepping into the elevator behind you. you glanced up at him, confused, and he stared back blankly, as if waiting for you to collect dots you didn’t even see. he only sighed after a few minutes, shaking his head. “this is both cute and infuriating. so, which stupid creature is your favorite?”

you expected a night with sukuna to be awkward. tense. uncomfortable. a night where you had to hold back so you don’t become labeled as talkative, or annoying, or too much.

you didn’t expect for him to be a good listener. nodding at whatever you said, asking questions at first to keep you talking until you were comfortable rambling. you didn’t expect him to hold your things so you could comfortably get closer to the glass, or stay longer at your favorite animals, or ask you about ones that seemed interesting, his eyes soft and lips twitching upwards just the slightest. you didn’t expect him to disappear at one point and come back with a few limited-edition items from the small gift shop either, dumping them in your arms wordlessly as you two were walking out.

“thank you for being my fake date for the night, kuna.” you mumbled as he was dropping you off, sleepy, eyes soft and voice slurred. he paused at your words, lips twitching into a frown before he eyed how sleepy you were and only sighed.

“of course, angel.” he muttered, reaching over and nonchalantly pressing a kiss to your forehead before he turned around, walking away. “…sleep well, goodnight.”

gaping at him seeming like a new routine, except this time, your sleepy eyes were set on his back as he left, almost getting distracted by his muscles showing through the fabric. oh, you were so, utterly fucked.

4. the beach.

you sat quietly on the sand, wrapped tightly in a towel, eyes ahead as you watched gojo, geto and shoko shoving each other in the water. choso was on a towel beside you, deeply asleep and snoring. toji was playing around with megumi and nobara and yuji, who was yapping about how his uncle dropped him off and disappeared. everyone was enjoying themselves.

you were freezing.

you had gotten there earlier, having known they would all show up too late. you liked swimming alone with no eyes on you, so with too much sunscreen, you stayed in the water under the sun in what you knew was the perfect time for you. by the time everyone else arrived, you were already drying in the shade.

oh, how you wished you had a dry towel—

a dry towel dropped into your lap before the thought even finished. you froze, glancing up at the sky, before immediately closing your eyes again and wishing for a million dollars just in case.

“don’t stare at the fucking sun.”

ah. your genie.

you peaked through your lashes at sukuna, who glared at you, a hand going to shade your eyes from the sun. he was dry, holding a small bag which you assumed was for his wallet and phone and car keys and towel, the sun kissing every spot on his perfect body, as if purposely teasing you.

fuck. how could someone be so pretty?

he sighed, pulling a cap out of the bag. he pushed it on top of your damp hair, shading your face, and slumped beside you. “switch towels. mine is dry.”

“hi.” you mumbled dumbly, blinking a few times to snap yourself from the daze seeing his beautiful red eyes in the sun put you through. his lips twitched, face softening, and he only pulled the cap down further. you finally remembered how to think. “don’t you need your towel dry?”

“‘m not going into the water this late.” he stated. his eyes flickered to choso asleep, and he rolled his eyes, standing back up. you watched shamelessly as he effortlessly pulled the heavy umbrella so it was covering the sun kissed stoner, sighing, voice lower. “that dumbass.”

“i spray him with sunscreen every two hours. flipped him once.” you mused, taking the chance of sukuna being distracted to switch towels, sighing in relief once the warm, dry, soft towel wrapped around you. “thank you, kuna.”

“don’t mention it.” he grunted, then frowned once he registered your words, “you rub sunscreen on him?”

“oh, no, it’s a spray.” you hummed, pulling it out. “isn’t it cool?”

he glanced at the spray bottle, shoulders slowly relaxing. “mhm. it is. can you spray me?”

you nodded, moving to stand up, immediately stumbling in the towel. firm fingers immediately steadied you, and you deeply hoped he couldn’t feel the warmth radiating off you from being flustered as he slowly let go.

you slowly sprayed him, the sunscreen leaving a shiny coat that made him look even more beautiful. after making sure every part of him was covered, you slowly sat back down. “try to rub it to make sure it’s even.”

he hummed, eyes shut, slowly spreading it out, spreading it out on his tan skin.

what a fucking sight, really. he was so, unbelievably gorgeous. you were so fucked.

“…you went early, huh?”

“…yeah.” you mumbled, eyes still on him, hoping he keeps his eyes closed.

“tell me next time. ‘ll go with you.” he sighed. “these idiots always come when it’s already too cold.”

you nodded slowly as he finally finished, slumping next to you on the little beach mat gojo had gotten, so close that his thigh was pretty to your covered figure. he frowned. “your lips are pale. still cold?”

you grimaced. “‘ll be okay. thank you for the towel—“

he sighed, an arm wrapping around your shoulder before he was pulling you towards him. you missed the way his body relaxed, lips twitching into a repressed grin, the face of a man finally achieving one of his long lost goals.

holy fuck. you were pressed to his side, his body oozing warmth. he smelled great, and you could feel his muscles every time he shifted. as you stared ahead, trying to pretend like you weren’t malfunctioning, your eyes landed on shoko, gojo and geto staring back at you guys from the water, jaws slack.

well. at least it wasn’t you this time.

5. studying.

as much as it seemed otherwise, studying with gojo actually helped you. you both kept each other in check— you stopped him whenever he started yapping, and he distracted you whenever you were spiraling. you both were a team when studying— having been one since the first semester, when you both met.

during breaks, however, was when you really liked studying with gojo. you both sat with thirteen expensive pastries in front of you, gojo’s treat, and he grinned excitedly. “oh, this will be so good. you go first.”

“you don’t have to tell me twice.” you mumbled, picking one up. you immediately moaned in delight, holding the rest to gojo, who reached over and took the rest from between your fingers. “fuck. this is so good.”

gojo let out an even louder moan. you both ignored the disgusted glares from the people around you, happily chewing. “oh, these are fucking godsent. thank you for being my taste buddy.”

“thank you,” you mumbled, grabbing another one. “you’re the one spoiling me with these. you’re, like, my dream man right now.”

gojo let out a loud laugh, before pausing, shivering in horror at whatever he imagined. “do not let sukuna hear you saying that. he’ll have my head.”

“why would he have your head for that?” you mumbled, mouthful, and distracted by the heavenly taste of these. you weren’t even a fan of pasteries, but these were on another level. you tried another, and immediately groaned. “fuck. try this one.”

you immediately extended your hand out to gojo. he, as usual, ate half of it off your fingers instead, and dramatically melted in his seat. “ten out of ten. perfect. stunning. i will marry whoever made these.” he swallowed, and quickly ate the rest off your fingers to. “and he will because he’s, like, in love with you.”

“you flipping liar.” you mumbled, unamused with the obvious fake news. “he doesn’t. he’s just a good friend.”

“he’s not a good friend,” gojo snorted. “he almost shoved my head into the toilet bowl yesterday because he was bored. he likes you.”

you did not believe him the slightest. “uh-huh. wanna try the red one?”

“yes, please.”

later that night, you were curled up in bed— going over everything you had studied earlier to lock the information into your mind. the groupchat was blowing up after choso was caught kissing someone (you already knew the news. choso blurted about his ‘secret’ crush to you before when he was high, and forgot.) and you just shot back a sticker laughing, said you were studying and you needed more caffeine to deal with this, and shut your phone off completely.

you really needed caffeine.

everytime you shut your eyes, all you can see is a cold, cup of your favorite coffee from your favorite shop. the condensation running down, the inviting taste, everything—

fuck. you needed one so bad. you frowned, turning your phone on to glance at the time, and paused when a notification stood out from between the ones on the groupchat.

sukuna: pick u up for coffee in five?

you stared at the message, then slowly glanced down at the sweatpants and oversized hoodie you were in, your hair messy, broken glasses on because you were too lazy to get these specific ones fixed and you lost the other, before sighing. you needed caffeine too bad to worry about how you looked in front of him right now.

you: please :c

a car honked downstairs a few minutes. you quickly grabbed your wallet and your half-dead phone, rushing downstairs, grabbing an oversized jacket on the way so you could tug it on top of your thick hoodie, grimacing at how much of a mess you looked. you slid into the passenger seat, and sukuna only stared at you, eyes slowly taking in your appearance, lips softly pulling up.

“don’t say anything.” you immediately mumbled. his smirk widened, but he didn’t speak, immediately resuming to drive, eyes ahead. “‘m so sleepy.”

“uh-huh. let’s get some caffeine in you.” he murmured, turning more serious. “don’t overwork yourself tonight. did you have dinner?”

you nodded, ignoring how your heart felt like it was twirling in your chest. “i did. ate and drank and slept well.”

he hummed. “good.”

in the coffee shop, he got the same as you, paying despite your complaints. once the drinks were out, he grabbed both, wrapping yours in tissues to keep your fingers from being cold before handing it over, humming.

you were looking over notes in your phone, too tired to register his actions. you only quietly took the cup, immediately sipping, shoulders slowly rolling down, tense muscles relaxing. “thank you, kuna.”

he clicked his tongue. “don’t mention it.”

in the car, you focused on sipping the coffee, and he cleared his throat. “gojo said you two were on a study date this morning. pastries and shit. said you called him your dream man.”

you snorted. sukuna glanced over, utterly unamused, almost pouting. “i love gojo.”

his lips immediately formed a scowl. “you love him?”

“not like that,” you snorted. “he’s just… he was the first person who was nice to me in university, you know. the first person who made sure i never felt like a burden. he means a lot to me, platonically.”

he was silent for a while, then nodded, pulling up in front of your building. “good. you deserve to never feel like a burden. you… mean a lot to me.”

was he trying to kill you? you immediately shuffled out, heart beating like it was trying to escape your chest, cheeks burning. “you mean a lot to me too, kuna. um, goodnight. thank you for picking me up.”

“don’t mention it, angel.”

+1.

against your will, you were dragged to a party.

you would have been enthusiastic, really, if finals hadn’t just ended— leaving you too sleep deprived that you couldn’t even walk straight. gojo had came over to force you out and picked your outfit out for you, keeping in mind your pleads for it to be something warm, and you ended up in the passenger seat of his car, asleep soundly, vaguely aware of his whining about you needing to be awake as he drove you there.

you could only remember little snippets between your tiny naps, really.

gojo having his arm around you as he dragged you in.

you slumping down beside choso, immediately falling asleep on his shoulder.

sukuna crouching down in front of you, concerned, eyes worried.

sukuna covering you with a blanket.

sukuna sitting beside you, pulling your head into his shoulder instead.

geto replacing choso. you shifting, head falling into his shoulder because he was warmer.

sukuna immediately pulling you back towards him, an arm falling around your waist to keep you close, bickering with geto.

after that, you drifted into deep sleep— the kind that only came after a week straight of pulling all nighters. and, when you woke up again, you were wrapped in a blanket, on the roof, on a tiny couch with your head on sukuna’s lap and a cigarette between his lips.

the second he registered you awake, he pushed the cigarette into the ashtray, eyes soft, fingers on your shoulders to help you sit up. “you okay, angel?”

“mhm. sleepy.” you mumbled, blinking slowly, still half asleep. you yawned, rubbing your eyes. “thank you for watching over me, kuna. you’re, like, my angel.”

“…don’t mention it.” he whispered— although, it sounded more like a pained whimper. “i… yeah. don’t mention it.”

it was silent for a few minutes. you both stared up at the sky, lost in thought, before sukuna cleared his throat.

“…the stars are pretty.”

“mhm.”

he paused, before speaking again. his voice was low, soft, but it was laced with quiet frustration that you could tell wasn’t pointed at you. “we’re, uh, done with the semester.”

“…mhm.”

he clicked his tongue, and sat up, like he’s restarting. “…we’re good friends.”

“we are.” you mumbled, still dazed from your delicious, needed nap. he let out a small groan, face buried into his palm.

“fuck.”

“…kuna?” you murmured, voice soft, sleepy. his eyes finally flickered up, frustrated and almost disappointed in himself, and you only gave him a small, sleepy smile. “i like you too.”

and finally, it was his turn for his jaw to go slack, eyes widening, before he turned to you quickly. “you’re not fucking with me, right? you like me?”

you nodded, sleepy, but focused. “i like you.”

he didn’t hesitate before dropping to his knees in front of you, eyes soft and almost pathetic. “say that again. please.”

“i like you, kuna.” you repeated, quieter, softer, more serious.

he let his head drop, face pressed against the blanket covering your thighs briefly, voice muffled when he spoke. “…you have no idea how many years i have been dying to hear this, angel. fuck.” when he lifted his head back up, his red eyes were almost glossy. “‘m marrying the fuck out of you one day.”

that managed a sleepy laugh out of you. “take me on a date first, at least. we haven’t even kissed yet.”

his eyes lit up at the mere thought— before you watched him visibly holding himself back, trying to appear more relaxed, probably to not scare you off, despite his reddening ears at the idea. “right. dates. i will date you so fucking good, i promise, you will never think of anyone but me again. not even that stupid barista who clearly wants you so bad. only me.” he nodded, serious, scowling, before his eyes softened again. “best dates of your life. where do you want to go? dinner? coffee? aquarium? your little movie night routine at my place? do you want me to make it a surprise? i will be the best boyfriend— wait, fuck, not that yet—“

you reached over, softly pressing your lips to his,

he froze, eyes probably wide, then immediately melted the second your fingers gently cupped his face to pull him closer, letting out a soft, little sound into the kiss that had his face flushing further.

once you pulled away, your eyes met his dazed ones, and he slowly sucked in a deep breath. “….fuck.”

“dinner sounds good.” you whispered back, thumb brushing over his bottom lip, and he shut his eyes, as if it took visible effort not to groan. “next week?”

“you think ‘ll make it to next week?” he let out a sharp laugh. “you have me fucking kneeling for you, angel. tomorrow. 8. please.”

“okay.” you murmured, voice soft. “now, come back up, i will want to continue napping on you.”

“…anything you fucking want, forever.”

[kosmogrl]

[geminiagentgreen]

Or, or...a reminder that good is still in the world, that the warm, radiant sun is still shining.

I know I've needed that reminder. Often.

[syamakrishna]

Sri Ranga Rangapravesham

(Hello!

I'm back.

Again.

I am a bit too jobless in my vacations so...... another story!

so I wrote this inspired by the idea given by @desikanya

So i could've made huge mistakes in this with regards to few dance terms, but i tried my best for them to be accurate. everything i've written about the dance and the movements comes from my mom and the multiple performances i've seen.

so please excuse my mistakes. )

The backstage holding room of the Sri Krishna Gana Sabha auditorium was an absolute mess of anxious chaos. It was totally cut off from the peaceful grandeur of the stage just beyond the heavy velvet curtains. Inside, the air was thick with the competing smells of jasmine strings, camphor, melted pancake makeup, and the sharp tang of nervous sweat.

Bhargavi stood rigid, frozen right in front of a wobbling pedestal fan. The appliance oscillated with a rhythmic, metallic groan, its rusted blades doing little more than shifting the heavy, humid air from one corner of the dressing room to the other. Outside, the pre-monsoon heat was completely unforgiving, but inside Bhargavi’s chest, a different kind of fire was burning.

She was already dressed in her full Kuchipudi attire. The heavy pleats of her silk costume, which was a striking combination of deep temple red and forest green bordered with intricate zari work, felt like an armor of lead. The fans of her pleated dhoti hung perfectly between her legs. They were designed to flare out like a lotus in bloom whenever she assumed the deep, seated posture of the Ara-mandi, but right now, those pleats felt completely constricting. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, rapid breaths. Sweat was already pooling beneath the heavy brass vaanki bands gripping her biceps, and a persistent trickle was threatening to ruin the meticulous, curved lines of the paint adorning her forehead.

An hour. In exactly sixty minutes, the heavy bronze bell would ring, the curtains would part, and she would step out for her Arangetram. This was her formal debut on the stage, the culmination of twelve years of rigorous, bone-breaking discipline.

What if I trip during the jathis, she thought, her fingers trembling as they unconsciously checked the tightness of her gajje. The hundreds of brass bells tied around her ankles gave a muted, nervous jingle. What if my foot slips on the brass plate? What if my mind goes blank during the slokam?

"Bhargavi."

The voice was not loud, but it possessed an inherent authority that instantly cut through the noise of her internal panic and the distant chatter of stagehands.

Bhargavi turned around. Standing in the doorway was her guru, Acharya Vasanthakumari. The elderly woman was a vision of timeless dignity, draped in a crisp, starch-white cotton sari with a simple gold border. Her silver hair was pulled back into a neat, tight bun, and her eyes, though weathered by decades of teaching, held the sharp, discerning clarity of a master craftsman looking at their finest piece of work.

"Guru Garu," Bhargavi breathed, her voice cracking slightly.

The Acharya stepped into the room, her gaze sweeping over her student. She didn't offer a hollow phrase of comfort. Instead, she walked over and placed a firm, cooling hand directly over Bhargavi’s racing heart.

"The air in this room is heavy, but your spirit cannot afford to be," her guru said, her expression softening into a warm smile. "Look at me, my child. You have not prepared for this for just a month or a year. You have practiced with all your heart since you were a little girl who could barely balance on her own two feet. Every tear, every bruised heel, every sleepless night, it was all a gathering of wood. Tonight, you simply have to let the fire burn. You will do well. Do not worry."

The warmth in her guru's voice acted like a total lifesaver, smoothing out the jagged, frantic edges of Bhargavi's breathing. The sheer weight of tradition, of lineage, and of unconditional belief flowed from the teacher into the disciple.

Deeply moved, Bhargavi bent down. Despite the restriction of her stiff costume and the heavy jewelry dangling from her neck, she folded herself completely, reaching out to touch the calloused, dust-stained feet of her guru. It was the ultimate surrender of the ego, an acknowledgment that whatever happened on that stage belonged to the lineage and not to her.

As her fingers brushed the elder woman's feet, Vasanthakumari placed both her hands upon Bhargavi’s head.

"Everything will be fine," the guru blessed, her voice dropping into a solemn, sacred register. "Saraswati kataksha sidhi rastu. May the grace of the Goddess of Wisdom and Art flow through your every limb tonight."

When the darkness finally descended, it was absolute. Bhargavi stood in the wings, where the heavy stage smelled of old wood and burnt theater lights. The auditorium was packed to capacity, and she could hear the low, collective murmur of hundreds of patrons, critics, family members, and rasikas waiting out there.

Then, the mridangam player struck the first celebratory note on the drum. The sharp, resonant rhythm vibrated through the wooden floorboards, traveling up through the soles of Bhargavi's bare feet and settling right into her spine.

The curtains drew back. The stage lights flared to life in a brilliant, blinding wash of amber and gold that completely cut Bhargavi off from the physical world. The audience dissolved into a vast, pitch-black void, leaving her utterly alone in a sea of light.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the sacred space.

The performance began with the Purvaranga, the traditional preliminary rituals. As Bhargavi moved across the stage to offer flowers to the idol of Lord Nataraja resting at the corner, the nervous sweat that had plagued her backstage seemed to undergo a total transformation. It was no longer the sweat of anxiety, but the sacred condensation of prayer.

Her first few movements were deliberate, anchoring her body to the earth. She sank into the Ara-mandi with her knees bent wide and her back perfectly erect, creating the foundational diamond shape of South Indian classical dance.

Then came the jathis, the complex, mathematical sequences of pure rhythmic dance.

The nattuvanar sat cross-legged on the side of the stage alongside her guru, striking the bronze cymbals with sharp, crystalline precision.

Bhargavi exploded into motion.

Any lingering doubt vanished, replaced by an ancient, muscle-memorized fluid precision. Her feet struck the stage with thunderous, rhythmic authority. The hundreds of brass bells around her ankles didn’t jangle randomly. They spoke a language of perfect synchronization, matching every subtle inflection of the drum. She raced across the stage in diagonal patterns, her arms extending fully into the mudras, her chest throwing forward, and her eyes following the precise path of her hands.

The Tarangam followed, which was the definitive piece of the Kuchipudi repertoire. A large, heavy brass plate was placed in the center of the stage. With absolute focus, Bhargavi stepped onto its rim, balancing her entire body weight on the thin, upturned edges of the metal.

The rhythm accelerated. The mridangam player challenged her with a dazzling array of syncopated beats. Moving her feet in lightning-fast patterns while remaining firmly anchored on the plate, she glided across the stage. The rhythmic scraping of the brass against the wood created an intoxicating, driving counterpoint to the music.

From the wings, Vasanthakumari watched, her hands gently keeping time on her lap. Her eyes filled with a quiet, profound satisfaction. Bhargavi was executing a technically flawless performance. Her lines were straight, her balance was impeccable, and her stamina was unyielding.

But as the Tarangam concluded to a roar of spontaneous applause, and Bhargavi retired to the wings for a brief costume adjustment before her final piece, she felt a strange, lingering emptiness.

She was dancing brilliantly, yes, but she was still just executing. She was still the architect of her own movement, controlling every breath, every muscle, and every gaze. She had achieved technical perfection, but the soul of the dance, the absolute dissolution of the self, had not yet arrived.

The final piece of the evening was Jayadeva's soulful Ashtapadi, Radhika Krishna. Unlike the previous items which focused heavily on rhythmic technicality, this piece was an exploration of pure Abhinaya, the art of expression, devotion, and storytelling. It was a song of intense longing, where Radha's friend describes her desperate, lovesick state to Krishna, pleading with him to go to her.

As Bhargavi walked back onto the stage, the lighting had changed completely. The harsh, brilliant gold of the spotlights had been replaced by a soft, midnight-blue hue interspersed with pale amber, mimicking the mystical twilight hours on the banks of the Yamuna River.

The vocalist took a deep breath, and the drone of the tanpura filled the auditorium with a hypnotic, vibrating hum. Then, the violin introduced the raga, playing a soulful, yearning rendition of Bhairavi that seemed to weep and rejoice all at once.

Bhargavi stood in the center of the stage, her body relaxed and her hands folded in a loose Anjali mudra near her chest.

The vocalist began to sing the opening lines of the verse:

“Radhika Krishna Radhika, Tava Virahena Keshava…”

(Radha, oh Krishna, is suffering from your separation…)

As the words filled the air, something shifted fundamentally within the space.

It did not happen gradually. It was a sudden, violent tearing of the fabric of reality.

The stale, warm air of the auditorium completely vanished. In its place, a cool, gentle breeze swept across the stage. It didn't feel like the mechanical air of a fan since it carried with it the damp, rich scent of river clay, the overwhelming sweetness of wild basil, and the intoxicating fragrance of night-blooming jasmine. The breeze caught the edge of Bhargavi’s silk pallu, lifting it slightly and brushing it against her bare shoulder.

Bhargavi’s eyes widened. A sudden, electric shiver traveled down her spine, raising the fine hairs on her arms.

She began the choreography, extending her right arm outward in a gesture of longing while her eyes searched the empty air of the stage, portraying the lonely, suffering Radha calling out into the woods of Brindavan.

But as her arm reached its full extension, her breath caught sharply in her throat.

Her fingers didn't encounter empty air.

She felt a distinct, undeniable warmth clasp around her hand. It was the solid, unmistakable touch of another hand that felt slender, strong, and impossibly smooth. The invisible fingers gently entwined with hers, adjusting the posture of her hand and pulling her wrist upward into a more perfect, elevated curve.

Bhargavi froze inwardly, though her body kept moving. Her heart hammered against her ribs, no longer with the cold grip of stage fright, but with a wild, soaring bewilderment.

"Do not tremble, My beautiful one."

The voice did not come from the speakers, nor did it come from the vocalist. It resonated directly inside the chambers of her own mind. It was a sound so rich, deep, and laced with a playful, teasing tenderness that it felt more real than the music itself.

Bhargavi’s gaze snapped to her right.

The human eye would see nothing but the shifting blue shadows of the stage lights, but Bhargavi’s soul saw him with terrifying, exquisite clarity.

He was standing right there, leaning casually against the air as if it were a solid pillar. His complexion was the deep, enchanting color of a rain-drenched storm cloud. He wore a dhoti of shimmering pitambara yellow silk that seemed to emit its own soft radiance. Around his neck hung garlands of fresh forest flowers, and nestled within the dark, wild curls of his hair was a single peacock feather, its iridescent eye catching the theatrical blue light.

His lips, stained red from betel nut, were curved into a brilliant, knowing smile, and his eyes, which were large, dark, liquid pools of infinite compassion, were locked onto hers.

"You have called for Me for a whole month through your dance," Krishna whispered, stepping closer as the scent of jasmine grew dizzyingly strong. "Did you think I would let you dance alone tonight?"

The vocalist transitioned into the fast, flirtatious rhythm of the song, and the entire energy on stage turned electric. It felt exactly like the Thillana of Rati Manmatha, where the dance becomes a breathless, intimate conversation between lovers, full of teasing shifts, sudden locks, and mirroring movements.

Bhargavi didn't have time to process her shock because Krishna stepped right into her space, perfectly intercepting her next movement as the lyrics entered the phrase “Vimalala kapole, jalada samove…” describing Radha’s tear-stained, pale cheeks.

As she moved forward in a diagonal stride, mimicking Radha's friend desperately searching for him, Krishna suddenly appeared right in front of her. He dropped into a flawless, deep Ara-mandi that perfectly mirrored hers. When she stamped her right foot, he stamped his left, his bare blue foot making no sound on the wood but sending a pulse of pure warmth through the floorboards.

Then, the choreography demanded a sudden, dramatic pause. On a sharp syllable from the mridangam, Krishna reached out.

His hand, warm and incredibly firm, slid around her waist. The pressure of his palm against her silk costume pulled her securely against his chest. Bhargavi’s breath hitched as she felt the solid weight of his arm anchoring her. With his other hand, he hooked two fingers gently under her chin, tilting her head upward.

Her eyes locked onto his. Up close, his dark face was radiant, and his smile was hopelessly teasing. He held her chin for a lingering heartbeat, completely taking control of her gaze, forcing her to look into his bottomless lotus eyes.

"Look at Me, Bhargavi," he whispered, his voice like silk, bringing her face close to his as if to wipe away the tears of separation described in the song. "Let them see how Radha adores her Krishna."

On the next beat, he released her chin, but his hand slid down to catch her wrist. The rhythm picked up speed, mimicking a rapid tug-of-war. Bhargavi spun outward, but Krishna didn't let go. He used his grip on her wrist to pull her back in, sending her spinning in reverse until her back bumped gently against his chest.

He didn't release his hold. He kept his arm wrapped around her waist from behind, his chin resting lightly on her shoulder as they both executed a series of lightning-fast movements together. Every tilt of Bhargavi’s head was perfectly mirrored by his, their expressions completely in sync with the pulsing tempo.

She felt his chest rise and fall against her back, laughing as the nattuvanar called out a complex, winding jathi sequence that simulated the chaotic, intoxicating winds of love.

"Now, break away," he teased in her ear.

With a sudden, playful push against her hip, he sent her gliding across the stage. Bhargavi executed a series of sharp, rhythmic leaps, her brass bells ringing out fiercely. Krishna was right on her heels. He leaped when she leaped, his long limbs slicing through the blue stage lights with impossible grace.

When she turned around to face him, he took the role of the ultimate charmer, leaning back as the singer repeated “Tava Virahena Keshava.” He mimicked holding a flute to his lips, his fingers moving over the invisible instrument, his eyes gazing at her with an intensity that made her knees feel weak. Bhargavi reacted instinctively, her hands forming the Katakamukha mudra as she acted out the role of a Gopi completely mesmerized by his music, losing her breath under his gaze.

She took a step toward him, but Krishna quickly changed the game. He stepped to the side, his hand brushing against the edge of her pleated dhoti, making the silk rustle loudly. He caught her by the waist again, spinning her around him in a tight, dizzying circle. She could feel the cool silk of his pitambara dhoti brushing against her bare ankles, and the scent of wild basil completely filled her senses.

Every time she thought she was leading the dance, Krishna would subtly take control. If her hand position drifted even a millimeter, his fingers would slide over hers, correcting the mudra with a gentle, firm squeeze. If her eyes wandered toward the wings where her guru was sitting, he would instantly catch her jaw with his thumb and forefinger, gently turning her face back toward his.

"I am your audience tonight," he whispered, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Keep your eyes on Me."

They were locked in a relentless, beautiful rhythm. They danced side by side, their shoulders rubbing together, their hips swaying in perfect unison. He would pull her close until she could feel the warmth of his skin, only to spin her away and pull her back by the waist a second later. It was a breathless, euphoric game of touch and release, a cosmic dance of courtship where every single step was an act of pure, intoxicated love.

Bhargavi didn't feel an ounce of fatigue. Her lungs didn't burn, and her legs didn't ache. She felt completely weightless, entirely sustained by the firm hands that kept catching her, touching her, and guiding her across the stage.

The song began its descent into the final crescendo, the Mukthayi. The music swelled into a magnificent torrent of violin, flute, and drum, gathering all the emotions of the evening and hurtling them toward a definitive point of absolute collapse as the final plea to Keshava resonated through the hall.

The lyrics spoke of the final realization that the lover and the beloved are not two, but one, and that the dance and the dancer are inseparable.

Krishna stopped his playful movements and stepped to the center of the stage, facing her.

His form seemed to expand, growing brighter until the blue light of the stage was completely swallowed by a soft, blinding white radiance that emanated from his very being. The peacock feather in his hair seemed to encompass the entire night sky.

"Now, Bhargavi," his voice echoed, no longer a whisper, but a beautiful, rolling vibration that felt like distant thunder. "Give it all to Me."

On the final, explosive triplet of the drum, Bhargavi threw her entire body forward. She didn't just complete a step; she offered her life.

She sank to her knees, her body folding forward over her thighs. Her hands came together above her head, locking into the Anjali Mudra of total, unconditional surrender to the Lord who had answered the call of the Ashtapadi. Her head bowed down until her forehead almost touched the cool wooden floorboards of the stage.

As the final, lingering note of the violin vibrated into the air, a profound, absolute silence blanketed the universe.

In that sacred fraction of a second, before the physical world could reassert itself, Bhargavi felt a soft, cool hand rest gently upon her bowed head. The fingers pressed lightly against her crown, sending a wave of absolute, unadulterated peace through her entire body. Every muscle relaxed, and every cell in her body felt washed clean by a divine river.

His voice resonated within her, a beautiful, "Well danced, My love. Your offering is received."

The fragrance of wild basil and jasmine flared one last time, a sweet, overwhelming wave that filled her lungs, and then, with the gentleness of a fading dream, it dissolved.

A sound like the breaking of a massive wave shattered the silence.

The auditorium erupted.

The transition back to reality was almost violent. The blinding amber spotlights hit Bhargavi’s eyes as she slowly lifted her head. The white sands of the Yamuna were gone, and she was looking at the worn, dark varnish of the stage floor.

The audience was on its feet. The sound of hundreds of people clapping, cheering, and shouting in appreciation was deafening. In the front rows, seasoned critics and elderly rasikas were openly weeping, wiping their eyes with their handkerchiefs, visibly moved by an extraordinary, spiritual energy they couldn't logically explain, but had felt down to their very bones.

Bhargavi rose to her feet, her limbs trembling slightly now as the human exhaustion finally caught up with her. She turned toward the side of the stage.

Acharya Vasanthakumari had stood up from her seat. The elderly guru’s face was completely wet with tears. She wasn't just smiling; she was looking at her disciple with a sense of profound, reverent awe. She knew. She had spent a lifetime in the service of the art, and she knew that what Bhargavi had just displayed in that final piece was not the result of practice. It was the descent of the divine.

Bhargavi brought her hands together, bowing deeply to the audience, then to the musicians, and finally to the idol of Nataraja.

As she raised her hands one last time to greet the crowd, she looked down at her palms. They were still tingling with an impossible, lingering warmth, and tucked neatly beneath the gold band of her left wrist ornament was a single, small, fragrant leaf of wild Tulasi.

She smiled through her tears, looking out into the empty spaces of the hall. The test was over. The world thought she had successfully completed her Arangetram, but Bhargavi knew the truth. She had simply been invited to dance in a courtyard that had no end.

[baraphalloplastyclinic]

I actually do think we should discourage women from becoming housewives. Do not become financially dependent on a man. That's how a lot of women ended up dead over the years. A man gets violent suddenly and you have to choose between homelessness or potentially dying at his hand because you have an enormous gap in your resume and no degrees or certifications or anything that will help you pursue a career that will allow you to be financially independent. He owns your bank account. His name is probably the one on the car. Try and leave and he can report it stolen. Where will you go then?

Don't become a housewife.