we all lie.

18+ /main blog of a writer with too many side blogs.

[rosalie-roses]

Rosalie - 25 y/o - she/her

no posts, just comments & reblogs.

follow my active side-blogs to see my work.

@tokrev-roses → Tokyo Revengers @twst-r0ses → Twisted Wonderland

[hunniiibunniii333]

Jealousy

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: You are starting to feel neglected as Jareth gives more and more of his attention to Sarah. You make some unsavory accusations, Jareth doesn't seem to care about your feelings, drama ensues.

Word count: 1,128

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, y/n kind of calls Jareth a creep, Jareth is an ass in this

A/N: Sorry this took a while to finish! My bestie came to visit from a few states away for two weeks and so I wasn't really writing. But anyways, this idea has been stuck in my head for a while now. There is definitely going to be a part 2, it's already half way finished so it should be out sometime this week! :)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Jareth watched as Hoggle stumbled away, his hand clenched around the enchanted peach he had given the goblin. If he was smart, which Jareth highly doubted, he would heed his threat and give the sweet fruit to Sarah. If not.. Well, he will make good on his threat and make an example of the vile creature. 

"Hm.. I see there's yet another human in the labyrinth.." He whirled around at the voice, his mitch-matched eyes narrowing at the sight. There you were, the shadow that constantly mocked him and his authority. You sat among your crows, one leg crossed over the other, in a dead, twisted tree. You stared at him with a look of contempt, dark eyes narrowed. It seemed the jet black birds around you did the same, tilting their heads and looking at Jareth with equally judgmental eyes. "though.. She seems a bit young, don't you think?

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Jareth asked with a sour face, crossing his arms over his chest. He was not in the mood for this, already in a foul mood. Sarah shouldn't have gotten so far so quickly, and his own subjects were conspiring against him it seemed. 

"You know what I mean.." You tilted your head, eyes leaving his as you scratched the underside of a crow's beak. The crows bristled contently, hopping on the knee, talons gripping the silk fabric of your dress, "I'm quite disappointed, actually. I know you always had a.. thing.. for mortals.. But to go for one that's barely even started her life? Tsk tsk.. Shameful, really." You scolded, narrowing your eyes at him with disgust.

Jareth bristled, much like the bird on your knee, a revulsion washed over him at such a thought. How dare you! Making such accusations! 

"You know nothing!" He scoffed, waving his hand, as if hoping to wave you away, "I will not even entertain such a notion!"

He turned on his heel, only to be stopped dead in his tracks when you were there. Your arms crossed over your chest, head still tilted, eyes still narrowed. There was glitter on your cheeks, sparkling in the sunlight in that way that made his heart thump in his chest.

Even with your disapproving, jealous expression, you were still as beautiful as the day he met you, his darling wife. 

"I know nothing? Well, I know that look in your eye when you look at her." You said, face scrunching up, "I know you, Jareth. I know how you think, how you feel. And I know that look." You jabbed him in the chest, glaring at him. 

A wave of rage crashed over Jareth at such a notion, his hand shooting out to grab your wrist, "You think you're so smart don't you?" He sneered, stepping forward, you instinctively going backward until you felt your back hit one of the stone fictures. His hand let go of your wrist, only to grasp your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

"Is that what you think of me? Some low life who would go back on the vows I made with my very heart and soul?" His grip on your jaw tightened, making your breath hitch, "You would learn best to not question your husband, your king. And learn to keep that jealous spark under control." 

You sneered at him, those enchanting eyes still having that spark of jealousy seared into their very retinas. Because how could you not be envious of that girl? He spent all his time ogling her in his crystal ball, much too interested in the young girl for your liking. 

"If you don't wish to be questioned, you shouldn't do questionable things." You scoffed, pushing his hand away from your face. "But fine. Yet again, you are doing nothing of the sort. Like the time before, and the time before that!" 

It was Jareth's turn to scoff, before pulling away from you. He was sick of having this discussion with you over and over again. He just didn't understand what the problem was. It wasn't like he was bringing these people into your marriable bed. He would never even think of doing such a thing to the being that captured his entire heart. But a flirty remark? Or a glance that lingers a bit too long here and there? That was simply in his very nature. 

"There was nothing happening before, just as there is nothing happening now! Why must you be so stubborn?" He huffed, pinching the brim of his hooked nose, as if this was more stressful for him than it was you. Jareth didn't take your feelings seriously on the matter, and you knew it. 

You bristled up, much like the crows who were stilling watching from their branches. They eyed the quarrelling couple, shifting from foot to foot, clearly nervous. They knew you would blow up at any time, and Jareth was doing nothing to help.

"I am not stubborn!" You shouted, getting defensive. You weren't the problem here! He was! "You just refuse to listen to me!"

"There is nothing to listen to. You are speaking utter nonsense, woman!" 

That was it. You couldn't do this anymore. He refused to listen to you, to see things from your point of view; Refused to acknowledge how his actions were making you feel. You just couldn't deal with feeling like a second choice in your own marriage anymore.

"Fine! You're just soo tired of dealing with a jealous rampages?" You yelled, tears stinging your eyes as you took off the crystal ring from your ring finger, "You can go be with that girl for all I care! I'm sure she'll be much more manageable" 

You threw the sparkling ring at him, which he caught. He looked at you, then the ring in his palm, back to you- Only to see you had already vanished in a whirl of black feathers. 

Jareth stood there, a lump in his throat as a feeling a kin to guilt gnawed at his stomach. His first instinct was to search for you, to look for his beloved wife and plead for forgiveness, but his pride is what stopped him.

His face hardened, his mind set. He would let you have your little temper tantrum. You'd be back, you always were. 

For now, he had to keep Sarah from reaching The Goblin City.. Hoggle should be giving that peach to her soon anyways. 

And with that, he too disappeared, in a puff of sparkling glitter. He had a job to do, after all, and didn't need you distracting him with your pesty jealousy.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

[lvl1l1]

“I didn’t finish”

telling the lads men you didn’t finish during night time activities!

tags: nsfw, slightly silly

!MDNI!

[Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus and Caleb]

Xavier

you're both still tangled in sheets, morning light slanting through the blinds, his arm slung heavy over your waist. he's half asleep, hair a mess, lashes fluttering like he's about to drift off again. you stretch lazily, yawn, then mumble into the pillow,

“xavie, please don’t feel bad but i didn’t finish last night.”

silence follows.

his eyes snap open. blue so bright it's almost glowing. he doesn't move at first, simply stares at the back of your head like he can laser vision the words out of existence. then slow. so slow. he props himself up on one elbow, hair falling into his face, voice all soft sleepy danger.

“...what did you just say?”

you shrug. keep facing away. “nothing. just saying. last night was nice but... y'know. didn't quite get there.”

he makes this tiny wounded noise, like a kitten getting stepped on. then he's rolling you over in one fluid motion, pinning you under him, thighs bracketing yours. sleepy bunny gone. “you’re telling me,” he says, low, lips brushing your ear, “that i had you moaning my name, clenching around me like you were trying to keep me forever, and you didn’t come?”

you bite your lip to keep from laughing. “maybe i faked it a little-”

his hand slides down, cups you through your panties. thumb pressing right where you're already getting wet from the shift in his tone.

“faked it?” he repeats, almost offended. voice cracking just a little. “my love. i felt you. i tasted you. i know what you sound like when you're close.” he rocks his hips once, hard enough you feel how fast he's getting hard again. “so either you're lying... or i need to fix it. right now.”

he doesn't wait for a response. mouth on your neck. fingers slipping under fabric. slow circles over your clit while he grinds against your thigh.

“so tell me,” he murmurs, breath hot. “do you really think you didn’t finish last night?”

you manage a shaky laugh. “xav- wait it was a prank-”

too late. he's already sliding down, shoving your thighs apart, tongue flat and insistent.

“prank's over when you come. twice. maybe three times. until i believe you.”

he doesn't stop until you're shaking, crying his name for real, legs locked around his head. when he finally crawls back up, chin glistening, eyes heavy lidded and smug.

“better?”

you nod. boneless.

“good. next time you wanna play games... just ask me to ruin you properly.”

Zayne

you walk into the kitchen, it’s early morning. he's in his work clothes already, making tea like the responsible adult he is. you shuffle in, wearing a(his) oversized hoodie, hair wild, and lean against the counter next to him. casual. too casual.

“morning. about last night… i didn’t finish.”

his hand freezes mid-pour. tea splashes. just a drop. but it's zayne. he doesn't spill. ever. unless something catastrophic happens. like this.

he sets the pot down. turns. slowly. glasses catching the light so you can't quite see his eyes at first. then he removes them. deliberate. folds them. places them on the counter like evidence.

“explain.”

voice calm. neutral. the tone he uses when he has to ask his patients something.

you pick at your sleeve. “just... y'know. sex was good. really good. but i didn't... y'know. finish.”

his jaw ticks. once. twice. then he steps into your space. towers. one hand plants on the counter beside your hip. the other tips your chin up. thumb brushing your bottom lip.

“you came multiple times,” he says flatly. “i counted. your pulse was 142 at the peak. you soaked my fingers, my tongue, the sheets. your thighs shook for a full minute after the last one.”

you try not to grin. “i was faking it-”

his eyes narrow. dangerously

“you think i can't tell?”

next thing you know your ass is on the counter, legs spread around his hips. his hand between you, pressing firm over your mound through the hoodie.

“tell me again,” he murmurs, lips at your throat. “tell me i failed to satisfy my girlfriend.”

“zayne-”

“no.” he rocks once. slow grind. you gasp. “you don't get to lie about this.”

fingers slip under the hem. find you already slick. he groans low. circles your clit with that precise, maddening pressure only he has.

“i'll make you come until you can't form sentences. until every time you think about last night, you throb.” his free hand pins your wrist to the counter. “apologise.”

you laugh breathlessly. “it was a prank- oh god-”

he curls two fingers inside. hits that spot. he’s relentless.

you come hard. fast. shaking on his hand while he watches carefully. then he licks his fingers clean. kisses you deep. tastes like tea and smug victory.

“next time,” he says against your mouth, “say it to my face while i'm inside you. see how long the lie lasts.”

Rafayel

the two of you are in his studio. paint everywhere. he's shirtless, jeans low, hair tied back in a tiny ponytail, brush in hand. you're perched on the stool watching him work. he glances over. grins that sly grin.

you sip your drink. then deadpan:

“hey. i didn’t finish last night.”

brush clatters. paint splatters the floor like blood. he whips around so fast the easel wobbles. eyes wide. betrayed..

“excuse me?” hand to chest. “what did you just say?”

you shrug. “yeah. it was fun. but... no big climax.”

his mouth opens. closes. opens again. then he's stalking over, paint on his cheek, abs flexing, looking at you like you just told him you don’t love him.

“it was fun?” he echoes. voice cracking. “fun. i worshipped you. i had my tongue so deep-”

he grabs your thighs. yanks you to the edge of the stool. wedges between your legs. hands gripping hard enough to bruise.

“you’re telling me the sea god didn’t make his bride come?”

he's already hard. grinding against you shameless.

“liar,” he hisses. but his eyes are glassy. needy.

you try to laugh. he kisses you stupid instead. its messy and desperate. hands shoving your shirt up. mouth on your tits. sucking hard like he's trying to leave hickeys visible from space.

“gonna paint you coming,” he mutters against your skin. “gonna make you squirt all over my canvas. then frame it. title it 'proof rafayel always finishes the job.'”

fingers between your legs. rubbing frantic.

“say it again. say i didn't make you come.”

“raf- prank-”

“too late to back out now.”

he drops to his knees. shoves your legs over his shoulders. devours. tongue flicking. sucking. fingers curling. moaning into you like he's the one getting off.

you come screaming. he doesn't stop. keeps going until you're pushing at his head, oversensitive.

he pulls back. lips swollen. glistening. grins feral.

“finished now?”

you nod. wrecked.

“well i'm not done. not even close.”

Sylus

you’re in his penthouse. it’s late afternoon. he's lounging on the couch, reading something on his tablet, one arm behind his head, sleeves rolled up(as always). you walk in from the kitchen, glass of water in hand, sit down next to him.

sip. then:

“please don’t get mad sy but i didn’t finish last night.”

his tablet lowers. slowly. then red eyes flick to you. unreadable. then one brow arches. he’s amused.

“...come again?”

“no that's the problem,” you say sweetly. “i didn't.”

he sets the tablet aside now. next, he stands. towers. then drops to one knee in front of you. hand on your thigh. squeezing.

“kitten.” his voice is velvet. “repeat that. slower.”

you hold his gaze. “last night was hot. but i didn't come.”

his laugh is low. his thumb strokes higher.

“you did. four times. i counted. you begged. you cried. you scratched my back raw. liar.”

he leans in. nose brushing yours.

“but if my girl thinks she needs more...” hand slides between your legs. cups. possessive. “i'll gladly give more.”

you're on your back before you blink. couch leather cool. him between your thighs. pants shoved down just enough. thick cock rubbing against you through your underwear.

“say it,” he growls. “tell me i left you wanting.”

“sylus- wait- i was just kidding-“

he rips the fabric aside. slides in. one slow deep thrust. fills you completely.

“kidding,” he echoes. mocking. hips rolling. “cute.”

he fucks you slow. punishing. every drag deliberate. thumb on your clit.

“you come when i say. not before. not after. when i decide you've learned.”

once you come, you come hard. shaking. he doesn't stop. keeps going. over and over. until you're babbling apologies.

finally he pulls out. comes on your stomach. marks you.

leans down. kisses your forehead. soft now.

“next time you wanna play... be ready to lose.”

Caleb

he’s over at your place. he's cooking breakfast with his apron on. humming. you lean in the doorway. arms crossed.

“caleb, i didn’t finish last night.”

his hand freezes mid stir. he turns. brows up. then down. processing.

“...you serious?”

you nod. solemn.

he sets the spatula down. walks over. gentle. cups your face. thumbs stroking cheeks.

“pips...” voice soft. worried. “why didn't you tell me? i would've-”

the guilt trip starts. you almost crack.

“i just... didn't get there. s'okay.”

his eyes darken. not angry. he’s just determined.

“not okay.” he lifts you onto the counter. steps between your legs. hands on your hips.

“i take care of you. always.” kisses your forehead. nose. lips. soft. then deeper.

“let me fix it.”

hand slips under your sleep shorts. fingers gentle. exploring. finding you wet. he groans.

“you’re soaked already...” circles slow. teasing. “tell me what you need.”

“caleb- wait it was a-”

he kisses you quiet. fingers sliding inside, curling. his thumb on your clit.

“shhh. let me make it right.”

slow build up. he’s patient. whispering praise. “so good for me. always so pretty when you fall apart.”

you come trembling. clinging. he holds you through it. kisses every tear.

then pulls back. grins sheepish.

“better?”

you laugh. breathless. “prank. it was a prank.”

he blinks. then laughs, bright, boyish. he pulls you into a hug.

“you little menace.” kisses your hair. “next time warn me. my heart almost stopped thinking i failed you.”

then softer. against your ear.

“but... if you ever really don't finish? tell me. i'll spend all day making it up. promise.”

[lvl1l1]

Hard as a rock

he’s so down bad for you, watching you do even the simplest things gets him all hot bothered!

or: he gets hard in an unconventional situation because of you

tags: nsfw, suggestiveness, exhibitionism

[Sylus, Rafayel, Xavier, Caleb, Zayne]

SYLUS

it was supposed to be a lowkey evening. just you and sylus slipping through the n109 zone’s back alleys like shadows, no big plans, no agenda beyond grabbing street food and pretend you’re normal for once. he’s got his arm slung loose around your shoulders, fingers playing absentmindedly your hair, red eyes half lidded and lazy like the city’s chaos can’t bother him when you’re this close. you’re laughing at some dry comment he made about the questionable vendor when the air shifts. 

three figures peel off from the crowd behind you. black coats. hooded. moving too deliberately. sylus notices first, his arm tightens around you, thumb brushing your collarbone once in silent warning. “kitten,” he murmurs, voice calm but edged with something colder, “keep walking. don’t look back.”

you don’t. but you feel them closing. footsteps syncing. the faint metallic click of a safety being flicked.

sylus sighs like he’s mildly inconvenienced by a train delay and steers you into a narrower side street. the kind with overflowing dumpsters and flickering neon that paints everything bloody red. the moment the alley swallows you both, he spins you behind him, coat flaring like wings.

“stay put,” he orders, voice still soft when acknowledging you.

you roll your eyes. “like hell.”

the first one lunges, knife out, fast. sylus catches his wrist mid swing, twists until bone cracks, then slams him face first into brick. second guy comes from the side, gun raised. sylus doesn’t even look. just flicks his wrist; red energy coils, yanks the weapon clean out of the guy’s hand, spins it mid air, and shoots the third attacker square in the shoulder before the guy can even draw.

it’s over in seconds.

except the third one, bigger, meaner, laughs through the pain, pulls a second blade, and charges straight at you instead. like he knows the fastest way to hurt sylus is through what’s his.

big mistake.

you move before sylus can. duck under the swing, slam your palm into the guy’s elbow – crunch – then drive your knee up into his gut hard enough he doubles over. grab his hair. yank his head back. slam it into the dumpster with a metallic clang that echoes. he drops. out cold.

silence. just heavy breathing and distant traffic.

sylus turns slowly. coat still billowing. eyes wide. pupils blown black. chest rising and falling like he just ran a marathon.

you dust your hands off. “what? you said stay put. i stayed put… mostly.”

he doesn’t speak at first. just stares. red gaze dragging from your flushed cheeks to the smear of blood on your knuckles to the way your chest heaves under your jacket. the way you’re standing there, hair mussed, lips parted, looking like you just stepped out of a fight club and still somehow managed to look like his favorite sin.

his cock twitches visibly against his trousers.

you notice. of course you do.

“sylus-“

he closes the distance in two strides. hands framing your face. kisses you hard, teeth and tongue and desperation like he’s trying to crawl inside your skin. you taste copper and smoke and him. he groans into your mouth when you bite his bottom lip, hips grinding forward so you feel exactly how hard he is. thick. insistent. leaking already.

“fuck,” he rasps when he pulls back just enough to breathe. forehead pressed to yours. voice wrecked. “watching you fight… the way you moved. the way you didn’t hesitate. protecting yourself. protecting me.” another grind, slow, filthy. “i’m so fucking hard it hurts, kitten. you have no idea what you do to me.”

you laugh breathlessly, a little dazed. slide your hand down his chest, palm flat over the bulge straining his pants. squeeze once. he hisses. hips bucking into your grip.

“then do something about it,” you whisper. nip his jaw. “right here. right now.”

his eyes flash with danger and adoration. 

“careful what you ask for,” he growls. already spinning you, pressing your front to the rough brick wall. hands sliding under your jacket, yanking your shirt up just enough to bare skin. one palm cups your breast, the other dives between your thighs, fingers finding you soaked through your panties.

“already dripping,” he murmurs against your neck. teeth grazing. “my violent little wife. fighting like that and getting wet for me after? filthy.”

you moan when he pushes the fabric aside, two fingers sliding in deep. curling. hitting that spot that makes your knees buckle.

“gonna fuck you against this wall,” he promises. free hand working his zipper down. cock springing free, heavy, flushed, leaking. “gonna fill you until it’s running down your thighs. until every bastard in this city smells me on you.”

you arch back. push against him. “then do it.”

RAFAYEL

the gala is in full swing, crystal chandeliers dripping light like liquid gold, champagne flutes catching every flicker, the air thick with expensive perfume and the low hum of art world chatter. rafayel’s latest collection is everywhere: massive canvases of stormy seas and fractured light, all moody blues and violent pinks that somehow still feel like they’re staring back at you. he’s in his element, black velvet suit tailored to mae him looks irresistible, lavender hair swept back, grin playing on his lips while collectors and critics orbit him like moths.

you’re right there at his side the whole night, arm looped through his, fingers occasionally brushing the inside of his elbow. you’re wearing a deep teal gown he picked out himself (“it matches my favorite painting of you,” he’d murmured while zipping you up, teeth grazing your shoulder). the slit rides high on your thigh every time you move, and every time it does, his gaze drops for a split second before he forces it back up, professional and gentlemanly.

but then the night drags on.

a particularly pushy curator, tall, slick outfit, too much perfume, corners rafayel near the central piece, the one everyone’s calling “the masterpiece.” their hand lands on rafayel’s forearm while they gestures wildly about “the emotional resonance” and “the references to lemuria.” rafayel’s smile stays polite, but you see the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth, the way his shoulders stiffen just enough to notice.

you don’t think. you just act.

you step in smooth as water, slide your hand up rafayel’s back until your palm rests possessively at the nape of his neck, fingers threading into the soft lavender strands there, tugging once. light. enough to make his head tilt toward you on instinct. then you lean in, lips brushing the shell of his ear, voice pitched low enough that only he hears:

“sorry to interrupt, darling,” you say the last part loud enough for the curator to catch the endearment, “but i need my husband for a moment. private business.”

the word *husband* drops like a stone into still water. rafayel’s breath hitches, barely audible, but you feel it against your cheek. the curator blinks, flustered, mutters something about “of course, of course” and backs off so fast they nearly spills their drink.

you don’t let go.

instead you turn rafayel toward you fully, keeping your hand at his nape, thumb stroking the sensitive skin just below his hairline. your other hand smooths down the lapel of his jacket, slow and proprietary like you’re fixing him, claiming him, reminding every single person in this room who he belongs to. your body angles just enough to block the curator’s view, hips brushing rafayel’s in a way that looks accidental from the outside but feels anything but.

his eyes snap to yours. pupils blown wide. that trademark teasing smirk is gone, replaced by something darker, hungrier. his throat works on a swallow. you feel the tremor run through him, subtle but unmistakable.

“careful,” he whispers, voice wrecked velvet. “you keep calling me husband like that and i’m going to have to drag you to the coat room right now.”

you smile, sweet, utterly unrepentant. lean in again, lips ghosting his jaw.

“i meant it,” you murmur. “you’re mine. and i don’t share.”

his cock jumps against your hip, hard, thick, straining so suddenly you can feel the exact shape of him through the fine material of his trousers. he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. one hand flies to your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, anchoring himself.

“fuck,” he hisses under his breath. glances around, quick and frantic, then angles his body to hide the obvious tent in his pants behind you. “you can’t just- say shit like that in the middle of my own gala. i’m supposed to be networking, not leaking in my suit because my wife decided to stake her claim like a goddamn siren.”

you hum. innocent. trail your fingers down his chest until they rest just above his belt buckle, close enough to tease, far enough to torment.

“problem?” you ask sweetly. thumb brushing the edge of leather.

his eyes flutter shut for a second. hips twitching forward into your touch before he catches himself.

“big problem,” he grits out. voice cracking on the last word. “huge fucking problem. and if you keep looking at me like that- talking like that- i’m going to paint the inside of my trousers before we even make it to the car.”

you laugh, delighted and finally step back just enough to give him breathing room. but you don’t let go of his hand. lace your fingers through his. squeeze once.

“then behave,” you say, echoing the words he’s thrown at you so many times. “or i’ll have to remind everyone here exactly who you belong to.”

his laugh is low, strained, almost pained.

“too late for behaving, cutie.” he leans down, lips brushing your temple in a kiss that looks chaste to anyone watching. “you already ruined me. now i have to spend the next two hours pretending i’m not painfully hard while i smile and shake hands and pretend i’m not thinking about bending you over the nearest priceless canvas and fucking my wife until she screams my name loud enough for the whole place to hear.”

you squeeze his hand again. harder.

“promise?”

his eyes flash, dark, desperate and loving.

“oh, i promise.”

he adjusts himself discreetly behind the cover of your body, exhales slow like he’s trying not to come apart right there, then straightens his jacket with shaking fingers.

“come on,” he mutters, tugging you toward the next cluster of guests. “let’s go pretend i’m a civilized artist for another hour.”

you smile. sweet. victorious.

“only if you say ‘please, wife’ first.”

he groans and pulls you closer.

“please, wife,” he breathes against your ear. “ruin me all night.”

XAVIER

the mission is simple on paper: infiltrate the high end underground auction in one of the n109 zone’s districts, blend in, eavesdrop on the buyer list for that black market protocore shipment, get out clean. no combat unless absolutely necessary. undercover means civilian clothes, nothing too flashy, just expensive enough to pass as bored rich kids with too much time and money.

you’re in a slinky black dress that hugs every curve, slit high enough to move but low enough to distract. xavier’s in a tailored charcoal suit, tie loose, top button undone, blond hair artfully messy like he just rolled out of someone’s bed (technically true; he rolled out of yours an hour ago after “pre-mission stress relief” that left you both flushed and still a little shaky). comms are in-ear and subtle. you’re posing as a couple, easy cover, familiar roles, so his arm is around your waist the whole time, thumb stroking slow circles over the silk at your hip.

the auction room is dim, velvet drapes swallowing sound, air thick with cigar smoke and whispered deals. you’re pressed into a shadowed alcove near the back, close to the stage but hidden enough to listen without being seen. the buyer’s voice crackles through hidden speakers; numbers climb, bidders murmur. you need to stay quiet. still. focused.

xavier’s chest is flush to your back. one arm banded around your middle, keeping you tucked against him. his other hand rests on the wall beside your head, caging. protective. possessive. his breath fans hot across your ear every time he leans in to murmur updates into the comms.

“target just bid. three million. stay alert.”

his voice is low and controlled. but you feel it, the way his hips shift forward every few seconds, subtle but deliberate, pressing the hard length of him against the small of your back. he’s been half hard since you walked in wearing that dress. now? fully. painfully. the thick ridge of his cock throbs against you through his trousers every time someone on stage says something that makes you tense or shift.

you try to focus. really. but his hand, the one not on the wall, slides lower. slow. palm flattening over your lower belly, fingers splaying wide. thumb brushing the underside of your breast through silk. 

“xavier,” you breathe, barely audible. warning.

he hums. soft. dangerous. lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“shhh, baby. auction’s still going. can’t make noise.”

his hips roll once, slow, filthy grind that drags his cock along the curve of your ass. you bite your lip hard enough to taste copper. thighs clench instinctively.

“you can be so quiet when you want to be,” he murmurs. voice dropping to that rare, gravel edged tone he only uses when he’s losing control. “but i can feel how wet you are already. dress is clinging to your thighs. bet if i slipped my hand under this slit right now i’d find you soaked through your panties.”

your breath hitches. he chuckles against your neck.

“careful,” he warns. “sound carries.”

but he doesn’t stop. his hand drifts lower. fingertips teasing the high slit of your dress, brushing bare skin. higher. until he’s tracing the edge of lace where thigh meets hip. he hooks one finger under the fabric, slow pull, letting it snap back against your skin. you jolt. tiny whimper swallowed fast.

“xav-“

“need you to stay still,” he breathes. lips brushing your pulse point. “but i need something too.” another slow grind, harder this time. you feel every vein, every throb. “been hard since you walked out in this dress. every time you lean forward to listen, every time your ass brushes me… fuck. i’m losing it.”

his free hand slides between you, discreet, hidden by his body and the shadows. unzips just enough. frees himself. hot, thick length springs against your lower back, skin on skin now. leaking. slick at the tip.

you freeze. heart slamming.

“xavier-”

“quiet,” he growls soft but commanding. dominant in that quiet way only he can pull off. “no one can see. just… help me. please.”

he guides your hand back. wraps your fingers around him. groans low when you squeeze instinctively. starts guiding your strokes, slow, tight drags from base to tip. thumb swiping over the slit on every upstroke. his other hand stays at your hip, holding you flush so he can rut shallowly into your fist while staying pressed to your back.

“just like that,” he whispers. voice wrecked. “good girl. keep it slow. keep it quiet. don’t want anyone knowing i’m jerking off in your hand while we listen to million dollar bids.”

you’re dripping now, thighs slick, panties ruined. every stroke makes him twitch harder. leak more. his breathing turns ragged against your neck.

“fuck- close already,” he hisses. hips stuttering. “you feel so good. always feel so good. gonna come in your hand, baby. gonna make a mess right here while everyone thinks we’re just a boring couple watching an auction.”

you twist your wrist on the next stroke, tight at the head. he chokes on a groan. buries his face in your hair. body locking up.

“coming- fuck-”

hot pulses spill over your fingers. thick ropes coating your palm, dripping down your wrist. he keeps your hand moving through it, milking every drop until he’s shaking. oversensitive and spent.

he exhales long, trembling. kisses the back of your neck reverently.

“good girl,” he murmurs. voice wrecked but tender now. “so fucking good for me.”

he tucks himself away, carefully and quiet. wipes your hand on the inside of his jacket like it’s nothing. then wraps both arms around you again. chin on your shoulder. back to normal. almost.

except his cock is still half hard against your ass.

and the auction’s still going.

“your turn later,” he whispers. promise in every word. “when we get home. gonna eat you out until you cry. then fuck you slow. make you come on my cock while i tell you how pretty you looked holding me through that.”

you clench around nothing. thighs trembling.

he chuckles,

“focus, baby. mission’s not over.”

but his hand stays low on your belly.

possessive.

loving.

ready for round two the second you’re alone.

CALEB

it’s a lazy saturday afternoon at the outdoor farmer’s market on the edge of linkon, sun warm but bearable, air smelling like fresh bread, roasted corn, and cut flowers. you and caleb are wandering the stalls hand in hand like any normal couple, no missions, no emergencies. just… normalcy. he’s in faded jeans and a plain white tee that clings a little too nicely to his shoulders, dog tags tucked under the collar, hair still damp from the shower you shared this morning. you’re in a simple sundress, light yellow, thin straps, skirt swishing around your knees every time you turn to look at something.

nothing special. just existing.

you stop at the fruit stall because the strawberries look obscene, bright red, glossy, begging to be bitten. the vendor hands you a sample punnet. you pick one up, inspect, then pop it between your lips without thinking. bite down slow. juice bursts. a tiny bead of red runs down your chin before you catch it with your tongue, quick flick, absentminded, like you do it every day.

caleb freezes mid step beside you.

you don’t notice at first. you’re too busy humming approval, reaching for another berry, popping it the same way, slow bite, soft hum, little pink tongue darting out to catch the drip. completely innocent. domestic. boring, even.

except caleb’s breathing changes.

you glance over. his jaw is tight. pupils blown. he’s staring at your mouth like it personally owes him money. you follow his gaze down and there it is: unmistakable bulge straining the front of his jeans. thick. obvious. twitching when you lick strawberry juice off your thumb without thinking.

“caleb,” you say, half laughing, half exasperated. “seriously?”

he swallows hard. throat working. voice comes out rough. low. “what?”

you gesture vaguely at his crotch with the half eaten strawberry. “that. we’re literally buying fruit.”

“i know,” he mutters. shifts his weight. tries to angle his hips away from the crowd like that’ll hide anything. “it’s not my fault.”

you raise a brow. take another deliberate bite, cruel, maybe, but you’re feeling petty. juice drips again. you swipe it away with your finger this time. suck it clean. slow. eyes locked on his.

his breath hitches. audibly. hand flexes at his side like he’s fighting not to grab you right there.

“you’re obsessed,” you say. fond but pointed. “it’s strawberries, leb. not lingerie.”

“it’s you,” he counters. voice cracking just a little. steps closer, close enough you can feel the heat rolling off him, smell soap and sunshine and him. “it’s you eating strawberries like that. lips all shiny. tongue flicking out. looking so casual and perfect and mine. how am i supposed to-” he cuts off. exhales hard through his nose. “i’ve been suffering since we left the apartment because you bent over to tie your shoe. then you laughed at my terrible joke. and now this? i’m dying here.”

you stare at him. see the flush creeping up his neck. the way his eyes keep dropping to your mouth. the tiny tremor in his fingers when he reaches out to brush a stray droplet from your chin, thumb lingering too long.

you sigh. exasperated. affectionate. step right into his space so your chest brushes his. tilt your head up.

“get a grip, caleb,” you murmur. soft but firm. “we’re in public. you can’t just pop a boner every time i do anything.”

he groans quietly, pained. forehead dropping to yours. hips shifting forward on instinct so you feel exactly how hard he is, thick, insistent, trapped against your lower belly.

“i’m trying,” he whispers. wrecked. “but you keep doing normal stuff and it’s killing me. i’m so fucking in love with you it’s embarrassing. one strawberry and i’m ready to drag you behind the honey stall and fuck you against a crate until you’re the one dripping.”

your thighs clench. traitorously wet now. but you hold your ground.

“later,” you promise. pat his cheek once, gentle but commanding. “when we’re home. you can lick the juice off me then. every drop. but right now? breathe. pay for the strawberries. and walk behind me so no one sees your… situation.”

he exhales a shaky laugh. nods. adjusts himself as discreetly as possible (not very). grabs the punnet from your hand, pays with trembling fingers, then takes your hand again like it’s a lifeline.

“you’re evil,” he mutters as you start walking again. voice still rough. “pure evil.”

you smile. sweet. innocent. pop another strawberry into your mouth.

“and you love it.”

he groans again. louder this time. pulls you closer.

“yeah,” he admits defeated. “god help me, i do.”

ZAYNE

it’s a rare saturday with zero emergencies, no hospital calls, no hunter alerts just you and zayne in the kitchen of his house, sleeves rolled up, aprons tied (his is pristine white, yours already has a smear of flour across the hip like war paint). the plan is simple: make those little custard tarts you saw on some cooking reel last week. nothing fancy. just buttery pastry, smooth vanilla custard, and a quick sugar glaze on top that caramelizes golden under the broiler.

zayne is methodical, of course. measures flour by weight. separates eggs with careful precision. temperature checks the cream before it even touches the stove. you’re the chaos to his order, dipping a finger into the warm custard when his back is turned, licking it off with an exaggerated “mmm” that makes his ears turn faintly pink. he pretends not to notice. fails spectacularly.

the real trouble starts when the tarts are cooling on the rack and it’s time for the glaze.

you melt sugar and water together until it’s bubbling clear, then brush the hot syrup over the tops of the tarts. the sugar catches the light, turns glossy and sticky. a drop falls from the pastry brush onto your knuckle. without thinking, you bring it to your mouth, slow swipe of tongue, lips closing around your finger to catch every last bit of sweetness. eyes half closed. soft little hum of satisfaction.

zayne freezes mid reach for the spatula.

you don’t notice at first. you’re too busy glazing the next tart, humming off key, hips swaying just a little to whatever song’s stuck in your head. another drop lands, this time on the inside of your wrist. you twist your arm, drag your tongue along the sticky trail from wrist to fingertip, sucking lightly at the end like it’s the best thing you’ve tasted all day.

his breathing changes. shallow. controlled. but you hear it.

you glance over. catch him staring with pupils blown, jaw tight, white knuckled grip on the counter edge. your eyes drop automatically.

oh.

the front of his gray sweatpants is tented. unmistakably. thick outline pressing insistently against the soft fabric, the head already flushed dark enough to show through. he’s hard. painfully. visibly throbbing once when your gaze lingers.

you bite your lip to keep from laughing. fail.

“zayne,” you say, voice sweet and teasing, “are you seriously getting hard because i licked sugar off my finger?”

he exhales through his nose, trying to calm down.

“it’s not- ” he starts. stops. swallows. “it’s not just that.”

“not just that,” you echo, amused. step closer. set the brush down and lean one hip against the counter right in front of him so he’s trapped between you and the cabinets. “what exactly is it, then? the pastry? the vanilla? or me being a messy eater?”

his gaze flicks to your mouth, still shiny from the glaze then back to your eyes. throat works again.

“all of it,” he admits. voice low. rougher than usual. “you in my kitchen, wearing my apron, humming, licking your fingers like that. looking… content. domestic. mine.” he shifts his hips, tiny, involuntary rock forward. “it’s overwhelming.”

you laugh and reach up to brush a streak of flour from his cheek with your thumb. let your fingers trail down to his jaw. tilt his face so he has to meet your eyes.

“poor dr. li,” you murmur. teasing. fond. “so composed in the OR, but as soon as i’m around you, you’re ruined. hard as a rock just from watching me taste test custard. pathetic, really.”

his cock jumps visibly at the word pathetic. a tiny wet spot blooms at the tip of the outline in his sweats. he groans, head tipping back against the cabinet door.

“don’t,” he rasps. but his hips cant forward again. seeking friction. “don’t say it like that.”

“like what?” you lean in closer. lips brushing his ear. voice dropping to a whisper. “like you’re so obsessed with me you can’t control yourself? like you’re throbbing in your pants because your girlfriend licked glaze off her wrist? like you’re this close to coming untouched just from me making fun of how easy you are for me?”

he shudders. full body. one hand flies to your waist, gripping you hard. the other braces on the counter behind him like he needs the support.

“yes,” he breathes. wrecked. honest. “exactly like that.”

you pull back just enough to look at him, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy, lips parted. beautiful. ruined. yours.

“then maybe,” you say, dragging one finger down the center of his chest, slow, teasing, “you should do something about it. or are you just going to stand there leaking in your sweats while the desserts get cold?”

his control snaps.

next thing you know your back’s against the counter, his mouth on yours, desperate, tasting like sugar. hands everywhere. apron strings yanked loose. dress rucked up. fingers already slipping between your thighs to find you soaked.

“brat,” he growls against your lips. voice shaking with want. “gonna make you lick the rest of that glaze off while i fuck you right here. then we’ll see who’s pathetic.”

you laugh into his kiss. breathless. victorious.

“promise?”

he groans. lifts you onto the counter. spreads your thighs. already working his sweats down.

[witchboxco]

2025 Witches' Calendar

January 13 ● Full Moon in Cancer (Wolf Moon) January 29 ● New Moon in Aquarius February 2 ● Imbolc February 12 ● Full Moon in Leo (Snow Moon) February 27 ● New Moon in Pisces March 14 ● Full Moon in Virgo (Worm Moon) March 15-April 7 ● Mercury Retrograde March 20 ● Ostara March 29 ● New Moon in Aries April 12 ● Full Moon in Libra (Pink Moon) April 27 ● New Moon in Taurus May 1 ● Beltane May 12 ● Full Moon in Scorpio (Flower Moon) May 26 ● New Moon in Gemini June 11 ● Full Moon in Sagittarius (Strawberry Moon) June 20 ● Litha June 25 ● New Moon in Cancer July 10 ● Full Moon in Capricorn (Buck Moon) July 18-August 11 ● Mercury Retrograde July 24 ● New Moon in Leo August 1 ● Lammas August 9 ● Full Moon in Aquarius (Corn Moon) August 23 ● New Moon in Leo September 7 ● Full Moon in Pisces (Harvest Moon) September 21 ● New Moon in Virgo September 22 ● Mabon October 6 ● Full Moon in Aries (Hunter's Moon) October 21 ● New Moon in Libra October 31 ● Samhain November 5 ● Full Moon in Taurus (Beaver Moon) November 9-November 29 ● Mercury in Retrograde November 20 ● New Moon in Scorpio December 4 ● Full Moon in Gemini (Cold Moon) December 19 ● New Moon in Sagittarius December 21 ● Yule

[thecupidwitch]

Fruit Correspondences

Apple: spirit work, offerings, love, healing, beauty, wisdom, harvest

Apricot: love, self love

Avocado: beauty, love, lust, fertility, spell work

Banana: wealth, luck, spirituality, religion, masculinity

Blueberry: protection, banishment, curses

Blackberry: protection, fertility, femininity, funerals, afterlife, moving on

Cantaloupe: spell work, protection, grounding, energy work

Cherry: lust, love, fertility

Clementine: childhood, dreams

Coconut: protection, cleansing, femininity

Cranberry: holidays, blood magic, spirit work

Date: fertility, luck, money

Dragon fruit: lust, passion, spell work

Durian: curses, cleansing, protection

Fig: happiness, divination, love

Grapefruit: cleansing

Grape: money, spell work, fertility, offerings

Guava: love, self love, lust

Honeydew: cleansing, energy, love

Jackfruit: divination, spell work, happiness

Kiwifruit: health, love, lust, happiness

Kumquat: luck, health, money

Lemon: cleansing, purification, protection, curse breaking

Lime: cleansing, protection, love

Lychee: love, self love, femininity, beauty

Mango: love, lust, fertility

Nectarine: love, self love, spell work

Orange: cleansing, protection, divination

Papaya: curse breaking, banishing, spirit work, love

Passion fruit: lust, love, passion

Peach: fertility, love, happiness, spirit work

Pear: offerings, happiness, luck, money, confidence

Persimmon: healing, love, luck, protection

Pineapple: protection, health, offerings, money, luck

Plantain: fertility, masculinity, lust, passion

Plum: love, healing, offerings

Pomegranate: offerings, blood magic, fertility, divination, spell work

Prune: cleansing, protection

Raspberry: love, dreams, health

Strawberry: love, wishes, dreams, happiness

Starfruit: lunar/solar magic, spell work, cleansing

Tangerine: solar magic, strength, energy work

Tomato: protection, cleansing, love, passion

Watermelon: healing, femininity, lust, love, spirit work, cleansing

Tip Jar

[green-witch-archives]

Guide to Drying Herbs

Drying herbs is a simple practice, and there are several methods to choose from depending on the type of herb and your desire use. Here's how I dry my herbs:

1. Drying on Newspaper

2. Hanging Herbs Upside Down

3. Pressing Herbs

4. Drying Small Petals in Pouches

General Tips for Best Results

Use Breathable Cloths: Wrapping your herbs or laying them on a breathable cloth allows air to circulate freely, preventing mold while catching any small leaves or flowers that shed during the drying process.

Timing: Dry herbs as soon as possible after harvesting to retain their potency and fragrance.

Environment: Choose a dry, cool, and ventilated area to prevent mold or mildew.

Labeling: If drying multiple herbs, label them to avoid confusion.

Storage: Once dried, store your herbs in airtight containers away from sunlight and moisture.

Using Dried Herbs

Always check if the plant is safe for use before collecting it. Do not make tea or touch anything with unknown properties. Always clean your plants before drying.

[floejlskaersild]

Upper left: Arkadiusz Danovski

Upper right: Lavestalu

Lower left: Leonora Carrington

Lower right: Lavestalu

[thecupidwitch]

Herb's Properties

Basil:  money, luck, prosperity, happiness

Bay Leaf: energy, cleansing, can be charged with almost any intention

Camomile: Caring, kindness, luck, growth, self-love growth, confidence, avoiding negativity, happiness

Cinnamon: passion, quick success, fire magick

Chia seeds: Growth, health, kindness, Property

Chilli flakes:  Pride, confidence, power, strength, Passion

Cumin: Courage, bravery, protection, loyalty

Dandelion: wishes, charisma, success, good luck

Dill: sexual love, luck, protection

Eucalyptus: cleansing, healing, purifying, relaxing, comfort

Fennel:  hate, anger

Flax seeds: Prosperity, growth, new beginnings

Ginger: fiery passion, success, and personal power

Jasmine: love, dreams, sensuality, luxury and kindness

Lavender: love and attraction, purification, relaxation, restful sleep

Nutmeg: luck, Health, Fidelity, Love, Prosperity, comfort, loyalty

Oregano:  comfort, love, warmth

Paprika:  Pride, confidence, power, strength

Parsley: Cleansing. purification

Peppermint: healing, purification, love and energy, cleansing, prosperity

Poppy seeds: protection, intuition, self-assurance, hexing and cursing

Rose: love, beauty, harmony, romance, attraction

Rosemary: cleansing, purification, wisdom, protection

Sesame seeds: Prosperity, growth, health, nurturing

Spearmint: love, cleansing, renewal, blessing

Sunflower seeds: happiness, growth, joy

Thyme: beauty, strength, courage

Turmeric: confidence, creativity, energy

Vanilla: love and sexuality

tip jar

[beautifulvalleywitch]

Ultimate Grimoire or book of shadows checklist✨📓✒️🔮

Hey beautifuls,

I’ve compiled a checklist in booklet format of pretty much anything I could think of or find online that you could include in your Grimoire/book of shadows. Please note that this is a very very broad list and you do not need to include absolutely everything listed. Pick and choose what matches your craft!

also if you would like a non-watermarked PDF print version (digital file) I’m offering this for just $3 AUD. You can direct message me here on tumblr or on my Insta account “@beautifulvalleywitch”.

Otherwise enjoy this free version lovely’s 🥰🥰

*copyrighted, please do not share without credit or claim as your own*

[thecupidwitch]

Simple Ways to Practice Magick Everyday

Say a small prayer or do a short meditation before you get out of bed in the morning.

Write down dreams or visions you had.

Stir your first cup of coffee or tea counterclockwise to banish negativity and bad luck or clockwise to bring positive energy.

Draw daily tarot or oracle cards (you can also use a pendulum) for guidance.

Cleansing yourself and home using sound or smoke.

Ancestor or spirit offerings

Pick out your clothes, shoes, jewelry... ect with intention.

Write a sigil or petition paper and burn it.

Take a ritual shower. You can spice it up with candles, herbs, and crystals, or you can simply step under the water and imagine all the negativity and bad energy washing off you. You can also recite a chant.

Every time you look into the mirror, say an affirmation

Take a walk outside and ground yourself to Mother Earth.

Dance!! Dancing is an excellent way to rise the energy, and it helps with opening the sacral and solar plexus chakra and getting in touch with the inner child.

tip jar

[witchboxco]

2025 Witches' Calendar

January 13 ● Full Moon in Cancer (Wolf Moon) January 29 ● New Moon in Aquarius February 2 ● Imbolc February 12 ● Full Moon in Leo (Snow Moon) February 27 ● New Moon in Pisces March 14 ● Full Moon in Virgo (Worm Moon) March 15-April 7 ● Mercury Retrograde March 20 ● Ostara March 29 ● New Moon in Aries April 12 ● Full Moon in Libra (Pink Moon) April 27 ● New Moon in Taurus May 1 ● Beltane May 12 ● Full Moon in Scorpio (Flower Moon) May 26 ● New Moon in Gemini June 11 ● Full Moon in Sagittarius (Strawberry Moon) June 20 ● Litha June 25 ● New Moon in Cancer July 10 ● Full Moon in Capricorn (Buck Moon) July 18-August 11 ● Mercury Retrograde July 24 ● New Moon in Leo August 1 ● Lammas August 9 ● Full Moon in Aquarius (Corn Moon) August 23 ● New Moon in Leo September 7 ● Full Moon in Pisces (Harvest Moon) September 21 ● New Moon in Virgo September 22 ● Mabon October 6 ● Full Moon in Aries (Hunter's Moon) October 21 ● New Moon in Libra October 31 ● Samhain November 5 ● Full Moon in Taurus (Beaver Moon) November 9-November 29 ● Mercury in Retrograde November 20 ● New Moon in Scorpio December 4 ● Full Moon in Gemini (Cold Moon) December 19 ● New Moon in Sagittarius December 21 ● Yule

[nyichuu]

𝐒̲𝐘̲𝐌̲𝐁̲𝟎̲𝐋̲𝐒̲༉‧₊˚.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

≛ ، . ‹ ִֶָ . ָ࣪ ‹ ャ ִֶָ ︶꒷꒦︶ ꒦꒷꒷꒦ ︶꒷꒦꒷︶ ٬٬ ࣪ ،ぬ̳ ⊹ ᨘ໑▸ 𖥻 ˑ ִ 𖦹 ִ ˑ 𖥔 ּ ִ 𖦹 ִ ˑ 𖥻 ๑◕‿◕๑ ❘❙❚𖦹❚❙❘❙❚❘❘❙❘

╲ 𓍯 ࣪🦴 ᳝ ˑ 𐇛̲﹗ ˖ ་ 💭 𖦆 🧠 ぃ ˑ 🐩 ִ ⌨︎ ֺ ָ ֙⋆ 🩰 𖥻 ִ ۫ ּ ִ ۫ ˑ ֗ ִ ˑ ּ 𖥔 𓄼 ࣪⠀ ִ ۫ ּ ֗ ִ ۪ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ᳝ ࣪ 𓄹 ⊹ ᳝ ࣪⠀. ִ ་ ּ 𝟶:𝟶𝟶 ──◍───── 𝟷:𝟹𝟶 ➛ ̨𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ🥛ꜝꜞ ᳝ ࣪ 𔘓 ⎘ ་ ᳝ ◝ 𖥻⏱️ ぃ ˑ ִ ⌨︎ ֺ ָ ֙⋆ 🩰 𓄹 ࣪ ִֶָ 🧂 ࣪ ▸ ִֶָ 𖦹 ࣪˖ . ⊹ 𓄼 ࣪ ꞌꞋ ࣪𓂃 ִֶָ ≡ ⌂ ⌕ ❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ♡゙

˖ ࣪ 💭🎀Ꮺ ! ∩⑅∩ ᘒ ࣪ 🧠˖˙ 𖥦 ⪧ ◟ ˒ ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶ ㇏𖣗𖦆⊹🕷♡̷̷ 𖤐˖﹙﹚女˚ ❥ ⊹ 𓏲࣪ 神 .˚ 𖥨┉┈ ˓ ༿ ⸒ ／ ଓ ઇ ઉ ᧙ ᥐ 𖧧 〞◖ ꩟ ᠀ ◠ ◡ ˙˙˙ ຳ ﹻ ﹟╳× ̟ ˖ ⁺ ₊ ✼　｡ﾟ･　☆　° ｡ ະ ⵓ ꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱ˀˀ 𓏲 ❛⠀text •𓋅 𖧧 ָ࣪ ⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ོㅤㅤ 𖧧 ָ࣪ 𖤐 .% ♡̸̸ ✧ ⊹○ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ 𖤐 ᵎ𓂅 𐀔ɞ ִֶָ ʚ ɞ ◟⊹ 𖧧. ָ࣪ ◝. ㅤ 𓄹 ࣪ ˖ 𓆉 ִֶָ𓂅 𑁍ࠬ ⊹ ࣪˖⁩ ꒦꒷ ʾ˓𖤣 𓆤 ʕ•̫͡•ʔ 𖧧 ָ࣪ 𓏲˖ 𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 ❅ ❥ ˓ 𓏲ִ 𓂃 . ✦ ٬ . ࣪. ˓ ꜜ ᪥ ˖࣪ ゲ! ⸃⸃ 𐇵 ˓𓄹 ࣪˖ 𖤠ะ 𓏲࣪◜𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 ⊹ ꫂ 。⚢˖⁩ ༯ ರ ❁𓂅 𓄼ꕤ༘ ᵎ ⤿ ⸼ ᨓ ◞ ̑̑ ꪶ ꫂ Ꮺ࣭۪ ⵓ𓏲࣪◜ ִֶָ𓏲࣪ ⨾ ˖ ୧ 。𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ༣ ྅ ﻬ˚ ͙ 𑂻𑂴 ♡ 𓍢 ₍ 𓆤 𓏲࣪ . 𓂃 ꈍᴗꈍ 𖨂 ❛ ¸ 𓂅 ៹ 𓂃 ๛∙᷅° 𖦥 ᵎ ⚟ ⚞ ৲ ﷼ ㍐ ૱ ⚑ ⚐ ｡ ⩨͢ ࿓᪶ ະ﹢ ˖ ⁶ ₆ 𓃠 ⊹ ˚. !! 𖤐ʾ ִֶָ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ଘ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈ ꧔ ꉂ🕷ʾ ִֶָ𖧧.៹ 𓂃 𓍯 𖤐˚.) 𓍼 ᝢ ⊹ ˚. ♡﹙﹚㶌 旗 .𑁍ࠬ¸𓍢 𓄂𓄽

₉ ⁹ ₉ ₆ ⁶ ₆ ( ᵒ̴̶̷̤ ꒳ ᵒ̴̶̷̤｡ ) ᴓ˟⁘ ᶻᶻᶻ ｷ ᭕ ꜛ𖤐 ꉂ ҂ 𓄹͓ ˖࣪ 𖥨▐ ▍▎▐ 🕷️ ▍▐ ▍▎¸𓏲࣪ ˚.꒷ 𖤐⤸₊˚ ִֶָ ❜ ✧ (๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑) ᵎ ⊹ ִֶָ ╱ ᨳ᭬ ⸝⸝ 🕷️◞ ◜₉ 𖤐 💀 𓍢 𖤐 ¹ ៹ キ 𓍯 ☠️ ꉂ 🕷️ ₉ ꞋꞌꞋ 精神。ꜛ𓏲♡̸ 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 ִֶָ ִֶָ 𓏲࣪𖤐🕷️⋮ ଡ଼ ꉂ 𓉳 𖤐 text ˖ ࣪ . 𑁍ࠬ 🕷️⊹ ࣪˖⁩

⁹ ₁ ❟ 𖠅 ١ 𖡼 ︎ִֶָ ̽𖧧 ָ࣪ 𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊ 𓄹𓈒 𓏲 ๋࣭ ꕤ ۰⸼ ۫𓂅 ᐢ⸼⸼ᐢ ࣪✦𓂃 ᭥ ̗̀ ̖́𓏲 ❟♡ : 交 響 曲𓈒 ₍⑅ᐢฅ́˘ฅ̀ᐢ₎𖧧 ָ࣪ 🏴‍☠ ⊹ ִֶָ𓏲࣪ . ❜ ﹫oc ⊹ ִֶָ✧ fc ᵎ ִֶ 𓆦 𓏲 ˖ ♡̷̸⁩◞／❥ 𓆷 ᤴ ⸒ ۰ 旗᭟ ；♡̷◞⃕ ⸼ ₉ 𖥶 𖤣 ࣪ ˖ ꜜ ٪ ࣪ ִֶָ 𖥧 𖤥＇、˖ ָ࣪➹ ❛ ᭣֤ࣨ 𑁍֤ ┉┈ 𖣠 ⠀ོ⁩⠀𖥽 ⊮ 𖣽 ⵢ 𑁍. 𓂅 ꜜ ଓ ♡̷̷۫۫ ꕀ 。♡𖤐 𓃠 ◞ ꈍᴗꈍ 🕷️OO ִֶָ✧ : ᕱ ᕱ ❛ ♡ 𓂅 ʚ ɞ ┈─ 𖧷 ꜜ ᩠ ❥ 𓏧 ◟ ༉‧₊˚ ❜ 𑁍✧ 。ꉂ ៹ % 。⸗ ꕤ ˖ ̼ ̼ ̼ ̼ ̼ ̼ ̼ ̼ ̼ ⸼ ❛ ⌗ ↺ ❛ ⤹ ꞋꞌꞋ ִֶָ ꙳໋͙ ⌑ 𓆫 𓌖 ⊹ ࣪˖⁩ 𑁍 ོ⁩❟ 𓏲 𑁍 ꓹ ݃ ﹔𓂅 ˑ ִֶָ 𑁍 . ﹙٫﹚ ૂ ࣪᪥ 𒀭࣪⋆ ✵ ٬٬ ،، · ࣪𐇵 ❟ 𓄹 ࣪˖ ˖ ࣪ 𖧷 𖡎 ◞ 𓏲 ࣪˖ 𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 . ࣪ ˖ ∿ 𑁍 ˓ ⊹ ָ࣪ ˓˓ ˒˒ ، ˖ ࣪𑁍 ˖ ՚༹ ˙˖ 𖥔 ،،̲ ﹕ ، ݃˓ ༨ ༢ ༣ ◜｡◞ さ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ ᯽ .ﾟ‪‪༘༘ ˖࣪ ✦ ଘ ◡̈ ❛❜ ٫ ʾ ִֶָ%˓ ᵎ ✦.˚ ࣪.`⌁ ◜◞ さ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ ᯽.ﾟ‪‪༘༘ ˖࣪ ✦ ଘ ◡̈ ❛❜ ٫ ʾ ִֶָ%˓ ᵎ ✦. ࣪.`⌁ 𑁍 ࣪ ˖ 𓂅 ゲムꜜ ´ ִֶָָ࣪ 𖥔՞˖࣪ ٪ ˖ ݁ . 𔘓 ؛ ៹ ָ࣪❟ ⎙ ⊹ ꓹ ─ ๑ ⨟ 𓂃⁩ᵎᵎ 𖤐 ҂ ╱ ♯ ⸝⸝⸼ ،،﹫♡ ❜ ꒷ ₉ 𓄰 ˖ ࣪ ִֶָ ャ ヽִֶָ𑁍⌕ ʾ ✦᭟𓈒 ᤳ⊹ 𓄼 𓏲𓏸˙˖𓏲 ִֶָ 𓄼𓈒๋ ⊹ ִֶָ ꓹ 𝗮𝘀 𐂂𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 鬼 𓃨 𖥊❟៹ꜥ ﹆⊱𓆇՞.𖥨 ℋ𖧦𔘓𖥔•͈ ┈─❟ʾ 𝙾̲𝙽̲𝙴̲ 𔘓 〞⸒﹗˖ ࣪ ˓༅ꪳ𖧧♥︎¸࣪ ꩜ⴰ ࣪˖𓂅⁩ ᪥㌐ ₀₀ ♡ ៸៸ ｡ ˚ 𓈒 ⨾ ˖ ݁ . 𔘓 ؛𝘩𝘺𝘢𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙝 𓆸﹫ ˖࣪ 𖥨• ꒷ ࣪.𖤣𖥧˚.𓂅 ˓ 𓏲ᵎ ٬ ᤷ ៶𖥨 𑁍ࠬ ˖࣪𖧧 ָ࣪᪥ ˖᯽ ⊹ .꠶❥ 𖥔 ،، 𑁍 ࣪˖ 🎀 ʕ•̫͡•ʔ𓏲࣪ ˖࣪ ✶ ๋࣭ ◜📮◞ ִֶָ𓄹 ˖࣪🌷𓏲࣪ ִֶָ﹫៹ 生𔗫 ִ ֗🔪🕷️ ؛. ָ ֺ 𔘓 ꒷꒦ 𓄹 ࣪ ˖ 🏴‍☠️ ٬ . ִ ֗ ៵ʾ ◗ ⊹ ᳝ ࣪🛢️🧇◌ ִ ໋.ˑ ִ ᥐʾ ֛ 𖥻 ࣪ ᳝ ◌ ̸ᵎᵎ ˖. ࣪ 𖦆 ִ ་ 𖦹𓏲 ˖╲ ࣪ ! : 𖥔࣪ ˖🐰🎀 ¡ ℒ ִֶָ ⊹𓂅⁩ ૮₍ ˃̵͈᷄ . ˂̵͈᷅ ₎ა 𓂃𑁍 ࣪˖ 𖦹 🐰🩰⋆ Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ . ¡! ⋆ ࣪. 🧠. › ᐢ • ˕ • ᐢ ˖ ݁ ˓ 𖣠 ! › 🎀 ๑・ꈊ ⍝ ʔ 𓏲·˚🦴🧠 𖦆 ͙ ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ⑅₎ ⊹ 𖡼 ָ࣪ ˖ 𓏲࣪ 🥛🩰 𓄹𓈒 ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ꐑꐑ ! ‣ 𒀭 ˓ 𖣠 ، 🌷🐰🦷˖ ▹ . › 𖦹 ! ✦ ˖ ٠ 🛁 › ✸ 🧠🥛˖ ۫ ،،̲ ˖ ࣪ 𒀭◞ ฅ ࣪ ˖ 🐰🛁🩰 ∘ ، 🐰🌷🚎 ࣪ . · 𖣠 ˖ 𖥨៹ ─╌ ˖ ࣪ ٬ 🎀💭 ࣪ . ` ✸ ⌁ ▹ 🧠🦷🥛 ꞌꞋꞌ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ˖ ࣪⭑ ❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘❙❙❙❚ 〃𒄬 🜲 ❜ ࣪🔌 ִֶָ ،،̲ ✶ 📰 ◗. ` 🏴 ⌁ ⚔ 𖥔 🏳 ࣪ ˖ ⁽⁾｡

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ 𓂃 ࣪៙͘⸳⭑ࣶࣸ ֺ✦⸼࣪⸳ 𓂃 ⴰ ࣭͘ ⭑ุ 𝁼 ✷ 𝅄 ✦ ⸱࣭ 𓄹 ⭑ ֩ ⸳ 𝁼 ★ ͘ ⴰ ⸰ֺ⭑« ✇ ุ๋ ⸱ 𓄰 ⩩ ៰࣪ ࣭ ﹟🔌🖇 ꒱⸰ֺ ࣭⭑𓄹 ⸒࣪ ▍▎█▍▎▌▍▎█▌▎ █▎▌▏ 𓄰﹟૰ ࣶ 𝃛 𖥔 ֙

𝅄 ャﾞ𒀭𖤩 ˖˚ 𖠿 ‣ ִֶָ ، 𖤘 𖠗 ֶָ 🧠 ʾʾ ۫ ♥︎.⭒ ۫ ׅ 🎀 𝅄 𓈈 𐑺ִ

𖥻𝆬 🏩❕ 𝅄᠂ ⭒ ֢ ꜥ 🥛 ⋅ 🧠 ⩇ ʿ 𓄹 𖠗 🎀 ۫ 𔓘 𝗈︩︪

. ૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა . 𖣯 ⋆ ˖ ࣪ ! 𓈈𓂃⬫ ׂ ׅ 🎂 𓂃 ૮₍ ៸៸ ᵜ ก ₎ა ֶָ ׁ ❁̶ (●´⌓`●) ᘒ ˖˙‹𝟯 ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝ ƚ

ャ ˖ ! 𑁍 ୨ ࣪ ˓ 🥛 ★ ﹆ׂׂ ˖ ◗ ᥫ᭡ ˖ ࣪ ‹ 𖥔 ࣪ ˖ ぅ ་ ᳝ ◝ 𖥻 ぅ. ֺ ָ ֙⋆ ་ ᳝ ◝ 𖥻 ̨𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪◞ せ ルゲ ⚠︎ ☻ ☺︎︎ ☹︎ ▹ 𖥔 ࣪ 📼 # ⋆ ⨾ ⊹ ǂ ⵓ ꒷꒦ ぬ ָ࣪ を あ ✶ ໑ 𓄼 › ✶ ♥︎ ❛ ˖࣪ 𓄹࣪ 𖠌 ✶ ָ࣪ ˖ Ꮺ ≛ ، .𖤩˖࣪ ✦ ₊˚.◗ 𓏲 ࣪₊ 𓍼˖ ᰍ ` ▸ ៸៸ 🐭 . ★﹟や ˖⁩𖦹︎ 𓄹᮫ֺ໋ ៹

˖ ۫♡ ♥︎ (๑•̀ᗢ•́๑) ❛˖ 🔪،͟، 𓂅𓄹࣪ ،، 𒀭 ʿʿ ⋆ ᳝ ֺ を ˎˊ ˗🎱 ✶་ Ꮺָ࣪ ‣ 𖥨 𖤣𖥧 𓂃𑁍 ▸ ⋆ ⭒𓁿 𓆰 ⋆ ꉂ ՙ ،̲،̲ ٪ 𓂅 𖠌 𓄹 ࣪ ˖ ⸼ 𖦹 ᪥ ❁ ˖࣪ ∿ 𐀔 𓇚 𔘓 𐇵 𖡼 ଘ 𐀔 ᵎᵎ ˖ ࣪ ،̲،̲ ⊹ ִֶָ 𖧷 ᖚ ✦ 𓅦 ៹ ꒺ ┈ ❟ ꥟ ❟ ❛❛ ❜❜ ،، 📃 ✽ ،،̲ ‹› ✱ ๑ˎˊ˗ 𖧧 ❛ં ⩩ ⌔ 𖣠 𖥕﹫ ✯ ✪ ⊹ ₊ ࣪𓏲 ͎🥛₊˚✧ ᝰ 𖤐 ꒰ % 🧂 ✦ ◗𓍼 ˖⋆⑅˚₊ 𓍯 ꗃ ⌗ 🏷️ · * ʕ•̫͡•ʔ ★ᰍ ҂ ꒦꒷꒦ ☁︎ ꙳໋͙ な! ☆★

🛒ヤ ✶ 🔩⌗ ! ʾ ૪ ࣪˖ オ ˖˙ ៹ ╲˚ׂᨘ ‣ 𖡄 ،،̲ ‹3 冬 ㆆ •

𓍯 𓂃𓏲࣪ ˖࣪ 𓂅 Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ 𖣠 ✦ ،،

˖ ࣪ 𒀭 ִֶָ ˖࣪ᝰ ָ࣪ ۰ ⸂ぬ ࣪˖⁩ 🧈 ▾

☹︎˖࣪ ⚠︎ᵎ ִֶָ𓂃✶ ˖ ࣪ 𖥔 ،،̲

𔘓 ٪ ˖ ࣪ 𓂃𒄬 ࣪˖ ›⋆ Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰

♥︎ 𐀔ʾʾ. ▭ ⌕ ʾ › ゲ! ⸃⸃

꩜ ៸៸ ᯽ ៸៸ ⊹ ִֶָ𓏲࣪ . ❜

𓆩 𓆪 ʾ ִֶָ%˓ ᵎ ҂ ࣪˖﹫𓂃⌁. ࣪˖

★ ⋆◗ ૪ 𖤩˖࣪ ◖ ִֶָ ໑ ָ࣪ ¡

ꗃ : ˖ ۫◖𓂃⌁.˖ ࣪ ャﾞ

✦%˖ ࣪ ꒷⁩ ࣪˖ ⌕ ャ! ❛𒀭̠𓂃

≛ ָ࣪ 𖥔. ، 𓄹𓈒 ◟⊹! 𓏲˖࣪ ꉂ

𓏲˖🏴‍☠️ﻬ 𓂅 ⋆ ࣪ 🕷 ! 国 ! 🏴‍☠️ ˖

𓂃𑁍 ࣪˖ › ﹙⚠︎ᵎ﹚🕷️─┈ ✦️️ʾ ִֶָ𖧧.

⋆૪ ִֶָ ࣪𖥻✸۫˖ 𓍯۫˖ 🇦🇱𖥔 ָ࣪ ˖╲ʾ ִ 𖤐 👾 ִ ͙▸

ぬ ָ࣪ ฅ 💡🩰 𖦆 ִ ͙▸𓏲˖࣪ ꉂ

،، › ࣪˖ ⌕ 📃𖦹 ! ﹫

⋆·˚ ༘ * 📷

•°. *࿐

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

. ˚◞♡   ⃗ 📷 *ೃ༄

┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

─◌✰್

┊͙ ୭̥⋆*｡

┊͙˚.

.ೃ࿐

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

⊱┊

꒰ ꒱

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

↳ ੈ‧₊˚ ┊͙

..⃗.🕊•̩̩͙⁺゜ ⤾·˚ ༘ ◡̈

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦  📷  ✧.*

..⃗.🕊•̩̩͙⁺゜ ⤾·˚ ༘ ◡̈

⍣ ೋ

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

﹋﹋﹋﹋꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

✎

༊*·˚

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

✧˖*°࿐

‧₊ ❁ཻུ۪۪.;:୭̥.┊🖇 (>_<) ꒱

.🍰₊˚.༄ ೃ -

- ,, 📷 ·˚ ༘ ꒱

📷 .˚ ᵎ┊͙◟̆◞̆

ˏˋ 🍳°•*⁀➷ ❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

⋆ ☄.

·˚ * 🌻

⌦ .｡.:*♡

❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎

·˚ ༘

❁ཻུ۪۪♡

: ̗̀➛

『••✎••』

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

-‘๑’-

｡･:*˚:✧｡

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

★彡

彡★

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

ᵔᴗᵔ ៸៸ ˘ᵕ˘ ପ ‹ · ≀ ૮₍ • ᴥ • ₎ა ꕤ # ๑・ ꈊ ⍝ ˒ ・ ⍈ ∞ ꞈ⠀𓈒 ♡̶ 𓂃 𝆯 𓍯 𓏲 𔓘 ᭡ 𓂅 ꊥꊥ ᯽ ◷ ﹆ · જ ◐ ﹅ ᵕ̈ ♡̷̷ ५ ☺︎ ☹︎ ⸒ ⎙ › ㅎㅅㅎ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ (꜆˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)꜆ ꐦ•̑ ᴥ •̑ ⍉ ٠ •́ ₃ •̀

₍ᐢ˵• ࿁ กᐢ₎︎ υ´• ᴥ •`υ ╴✷ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ଘ( ິ•ᆺ• )ິଓ ꜥꜤ ҂ ੭⠀☆ ( ⸝•ᴗ•⸝) ★ ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ ) › ७ १ (꒪˙꒳˙꒪ ) 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ⇀‸↼‶ ▭▬ 𖧷 ✮ ໒ ❁ ◔ ﹢ 𖧧 𖢯 ৶ 𓇟 ⬭𝆬⭒۟ ׁ𔗫 ⥽

🍥•

☄︎ 𖦥 ⬫ ⬪ ◠ ᨒ ☃︎ 𖠳 ❅ 𖠌 ｡ 命 ꐑꐑ ま ❒ ꧇ ՚՚ ⭒ ⋆ ⾕ 𖣖 ⩇ ⩉ 𖣠 𖤣 ʚɞ ⌯ 𓂅 𓂃 𓏲 𓍯 ᯽ ﹫ ꈍᴗꈍ 𖣯   ݈݇- 𖥻 % ꏏ 〄 ゅִ 𓄼 𓍢 ▨ ▦ ▩ ◌ ◍ ◔ ◕ ❀ ✿ ❁ ✾ ❖ ☆ ★ □ ■ ✮ ✰ ？ ！ ⍝ ∗ ✦ ✧ ꜝꜝ 𖢨 ៸៸𝆬 ᕬ ⎙ ৎ୭ ‹𝟹 ‹𝟥 ♡ ♥︎ 𐇯 𓂺 𓂸 𓃭 𓄇 𓍲 𓍱 𓏊 𓏋 𖠚 𖠅 𖠊 𖠿 𖤥 𖤘 𖤐 𖦹 𝅘𝅥𝅮 𝅘𝅥𝅯 🀋 🀙 🂻 🂽 🃖 🃄 𐇔 𐇓 𐂂 𐂃 ﹪ ﹙﹚ ☹︎ ☺︎ ﹅ ﹆ ⊹ ☕︎

୫ ૪ ໒ 𐂴 ৎ ຊ ∿ ꔵ𖦹 ๑ ໑ ࿔ ७ ५ ୭ ᠀ 𑁯 ੭ ⸙ ຯ ໒ ೨ 𖧧 Ꮺ 𖧷 𓏲 𖥨 ꫂ ২ ζ १ 𖥧 𓂃 ♥︎ ᨒ ๑ ࿔ ⩩ 𖥨 ╰╮࿓ ᘒ ⊹ ✧ 𓂅 𓄹 ๑ ৲ 𖦹 % ҂ 𓈈 ｡ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✦ ⟆ ֊ ꗃ ⌗ ❍ ﹕ཿ ♡ ■ ! ﹫｡ ִֶָ ♡̸̸ ࣪˖𖧧 ִֶָ ⊹ ˖ ࣪✦𖣠 ִֶָ ،، ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪˖ ｡ⵢ ִֶָ ⁄₆⁶₆°⊹.꒦꒷:¨·.·¨: ぬ ָ࣪ ! ʕ•̫͡•ʔ ִֶָ ⊹ ࣪✦ ¡ 𖦹 ₍ᵔ·͈༝·͈ᵔ₎ ♡̸ᵎᵎ:¨·.·¨: ᨳ᭬(੭˘͈ᵕ˘͈)੭ ⸝⸝ ˚. ʾ˓𖤣 ▸ ▸ ⋆ ࣪ ◖ ༮𓍯☆供 ✽ % 𒀭✶ ๋࣭ ꉂ ⌕⌗⨾ 𖥔✧𓂃 𐂂˖ ࣪ 𖡼君𝒮╱𖣠 ᥫ᭡˖ ࣪ ⌑ ˓˓ ˓𓄹 ࣪˖ . ݁ ˓ ៸ ، ݁ ˖ ✹ ˖࣪ 𓂅 ◖،،̲ › 𖥔 ࣪ ˖𖧧 ָ࣪‣ 𒄬 、 ݁، ݁ ˖ ★ ꒷៹₆⁶︎ ࣪˖‣ 𑁍 ࣪˖ ꗷ𓄹𓈒 ꉂ ࣪˖ 𖥔 ♡̷ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ࣪˖﹅❛𖦹 ⊹ 𓄹ᝰ 嫌い𓂃𓏲࣪ ╱ 𖤐𓂅:¨·.·¨: 𝙽𖤐ꕤ﹆𓄹✦ 𖡼 ָ࣪ ˖ 𓏲࣪ 𐀔 ᵎᵎ 𓄹𓈒 ˖ ࣪ . ִֶָ𓂅

‣ 𒄬 ˓ 𖣠 ، ˖ ▹ › 𖦹 ! . ݁ ٬٬ ࣪ ، 𒀭 𖨂 ◗ ▸ˑ 𖣠｡ ! ≛ ، . ‹ 𖦆 冬◞¡ ࣪˖ ✶ʾʾ ﹗ ‣ ֶָ֢֪ 𓂃 ‹ 𖦹 ⋆ ‣ ぁ𓂃𑁍 ࣪˖ ›⋆ Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ ¡! ぬ̳ ، .𓂃𑁍 ﹅ ‣ ៹ ࣪˖⁩ ◞ 𖤐 ࣪˖ ›★ ꒷៹ ₆⁶︎ ࣪˖﹅،، 𖥔 ׅ۬ ! ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ˓𓄰 ָָ࣪࣪ ؛ ࣪˖ 𓂅⊹ 𖧧 ָ࣪ 𖡼 ָ࣪ ˖╲˚ׂᨘ✦ᝳ ▹ . ⊹ ᨘ໑. ♡୨ ࣪ ⊹ ֶָ 𖨂 ¡ . ⊹ ࣪𖣠 ִֶָ ›◞ 𖦹 ࣪˖ . ݁ ٬٬ ࣪ ، ̧ ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪˖ ﹫｡ .¡! ぬ̳ ، .˓ ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪˖ Ꮩ̶ ぬ̳ ݁ ،،̲ ִֶָ . 歡！›ଘ ˖ : 英 ▹ 𖣠 ִֶָ𖤐˚. ࣪ ִֶָ ヤ！ ˖ 𖥧 ִֶָ ˓ 𖣠 ݁ ✦ ִֶָ ࣪ ،ヤ ! ◟⊹ ˚˖ ▹ ℜ 𖥸 ࣪ ، ̧¡ ﹫｡ ! ≛ ، . ‹ℜ ࣪ ִֶָ ✦ ˖ ▹ 𖥔˙˖ . ˖ 𖥧 ִֶָ › 𖦹 ! ˖ ࣪ 𖡼 ָ࣪ 𓄹 ゙ֶָʾʾ ﹗ ̨𖥔 ִ ་ ָ࣪ 𓂃 𓂃 ۪ ⊹ 𓄼 ࣪ ‣ ⌕ ݁ . ｡ ! ≛ ، . ‹ 𖦆 ʾ ִ 𖤐𖡼 ָ࣪ ˖ 𓏲࣪ 𖤐 𓄹𓈒 ˖ ࣪ . ִֶָ𓂅 ݁ . ⌕ 𖦹 !﹫𓈒 ִֶָ 𖡼 Ꮺ ִャ𓄰۪۪

𖡼 ָ࣪ ꒷꒦ ｡𓄹 › ࣪˖ ⌕ ! 𖦹︎ 𖥻 ࣪ 𖡼 ˑ ִ ★ ꒷៹ ₆⁶︎ ࣪﹅،، 𖥔 ׅ۬ ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ʾʾ ﹗ ‣ ֶָ֢֪ ˖ ࣪ ꒷꒦♥︎ ʾʿ˒ˉˍˑ˖˙˛

＃ ☆★ !! #O3 ,  ᵎ ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒷꒦︶ : — — — — — — — ੭ 📕 𓂅 ・・♡ ~（ゝ。∂） ⋆   ࣪ ִֶָ  .   ꩜ ⁘   ︻ 上═  𓂃 % ¿¿𓍼ִֶָ ₆⁶︎ ﹅𖧧 ݃ 𓏲 ʾ˓𖤣 ˖ ㍈ ،، ₆⁶₆ . ୨ ࣪ ⊹𖥔˖࣪ ¡! 𖤐 ˓ ⊹ ˚. ‹ 𓂃◖ ˖ ݁ ˓ ╱ ᵎᵎ ꒦꒷𓄰⊹ ꉂ ˖ ݁ ˓ 𒀭 ˖ ࣪ 𓂃 ꉂ𓄰ダム ִֶָ 𓄹 ࣪ ִֶָ ♡̷͎ ᵎᵎ 𑁍˖࣪ ˓ ִֶָ ♡̸꒷꒦˓ ༿ ⸒˖ ⩩𓄧 𖤐˚.𓂅٬ ⁶࣪˖՞៸៸ ◟.᪥`ﾞʾ ╱╳╲ˀ𓏲! ִֶָ ꒱𓂃✦៹ 𓏰𓏰ՙ۪ 𖥔 ⌇ ♡ ❜ 𓏲 ⩨ 𖤐 ҂ ⊹ ִֶָ ⌗ ִֶָ 𓏲 あ𒀭﹫ 𓄹 ˖ ❫ ɞ 𖥔 ،،̲ ◖ 𖣠 ˖ ⩨ 𓏰𓏰𒀭→變 ،̲،̲◖ਊ ▸ˑ ִֶָ𓂅˖ ࣪ が ˖ ،̲،̲╲﹫ ִֶָ ꒷˖ ؛𑁍˖ ִֶָ ⊹ ˖ ࣪𖧧 ぬ ! ִֶָ˖ 𖥔˖࣪ ¡! 𖤐 𖧧 ִֶָ ʕ•̫͡•ʔ ،،̲ ִֶָ ぬ ָ࣪ ꒷꒦꒷﹫｡ ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ⊹ ˖ ࣪𒀭 ぬ ⠈﹫｡# ˖࣪ ¡! ✽ ˖ʕ•̫͡•ʔ ،،̲ ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪˖ あ﹫〃˖ ࣪ 𖥨 ࣪ ͎꒷𖤐 ʕ•̫͡•ʔ ִֶָ ˖ 𖥔⠈﹫ ! 𖦹 ぬ˖ ࣪،، 𝔖 › ࣪˖ ⌕ ‣ ִֶָ ،  ♥︎.⭒ ۫ ׅ 🌸 𝅄 𓈈 𐑺ִ ꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱  ⊹ ⋆ﾟ꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹ ꙳⸌♡⸍꙳ 𓆩 ♡ ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗༊*·˚ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .༉‧₊˚. ✩☆★ ✼　｡ﾟ･　☆　° ｡ㅤ→ ༄ ‧₊˚ 「 」 ⇢ ๑ ◞♡° ˀˀ ♡⃕ ◡̈ ꒰ ⌦ ✗ ⌜ ⌝ ⌞ ⌟ ↳ ❝ ❞ ➤ ↲ ۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪ ⎧ ୧ ⋅┊ೃ ╰► ꒱ ➛ ↴❱ ✿•˖* ℘ ﹋﹋ ❛ ╯ ❲ ❳ ∞ ‹ ∅ ┊ ➹ ੈ♡‧₊˚ ↱ ᵕ̈ ↷ ೃ ╲ ╱ 彡 ✥ ❥ Ꮠ ➜ ᎒ ☈ ❁⊰ 「❀」 . .⃗ . ༉‧₊˚✧ . ˚ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ*ૢ✧ ཻུ۪۪ ೫` ⃟ ཹ։❀ ፧ ੈ✩‧₊ ૪'ރ፧ ࿐ ° ↳ ׂׂૢ༘ ۵`⌧. →× —✖ 〰〰 ︵ ⚘݄ ⿴݃ *₊˚꒰:: ≡,! ヾ︿︿،، ♡ ⏧·₊̣̇. ❵ ﹏ ❅ೃ ∞. ; ෆ┊¡ ۰ ۪۪۫۫ ❬“= ‹⌇ ☄︎. *. ⋆ ⋰˚ ➶ ︎︎☁ ︎ ➴ ⚛︎ ⚕︎ ⚔︎ ⚓︎ ⚖︎ ⚗︎ ⚐ ⚑ ✤ ✣ ✢ ✡︎ ✟ ✞ ✝︎ ✠ ⚔︎ ☩ ☨ ✙ ✚ ✛ ♱ ♰ ☠︎ ✥ ✧ ✩ ❁ ❀ ✿ ✾ ❂ ⦾ ⦿ ◯ ◦ ▇ ▇ ▇ ʕ ♡ ᵒ̴̷͈ 艸 ᵒ̴̷͈ ॰ ʔ ✧ * ✲ﾟ * ｡ ✧ ٩(･ิᴗ･ิ๑)۶*✲ﾟ*｡✧ ✿ ♬ﾟ +.(｡◡‿◡)♪.+ﾟ♬✿。ﾟ･✿ヾ╲(｡◕‿◕｡)╱✿･ﾟ( ❀⃙⃕⃠⃝⃘⃚౪❀⃙⃕⃠⃝⃘⃚ )+ﾟ*｡：ﾟ+*´∀｀ׂׂׂׂૢ་༘࿐

❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎

·˚ ༘

❁ཻུ۪۪♡

: ̗̀➛

『••✎••』

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

-‘๑’-

ೃ⁀➷

｡･:*˚:✧｡

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢   ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ   𓂃  ࣪៙͘⸳⭑ࣶࣸ   ֺ✦⸼࣪⸳ 𓂃  ⴰ  ࣭͘  ⭑ุ  𝁼  ✷  𝅄  ✦  ⸱࣭   𓄹  ⭑   ֩  ⸳  𝁼   ★  ͘ ⴰ  ⸰ֺ⭑« ✇   ุ๋ ⸱ 𓄰 ⩩ ៰࣪ ࣭ ﹟💌 ꒱⸰ֺ ࣭⭑𓄹 ⸒࣪ ▍▎█▍▎▌▍▎█▌▎ █▎▌▏ 𓄰﹟૰ ࣶ 𝃛 𖥔 ֙

𝅄 ャﾞ𒀭𖤩 ˖˚ 𖠿 ‣  ִֶָ  ، 𖤘 𖠗  ֶָ 🧠 ʾʾ  ۫  ♥︎.⭒ ۫   ׅ 🎀  𝅄  𓈈 𐑺ִ

𖥻𝆬 🏩❕ 𝅄᠂ ⭒ ֢  ꜥ 🥛 ⋅ 🧠  ⩇ ʿ  𓄹  𖠗 🎀 ۫  𔓘 𝗈︩︪𓈈𓂃⬫ ׂ ׅ 🎂 𓂃 ૮₍ ៸៸ ᵜ ก ₎ა

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

[marlboromatt-deactivated2022030]

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

— hey, you beautiful people! i know that i’ve been super inactive over the last couple of months and i apologize for that. my personal life has been very hectic and draining and it’s just now starting to calm down. that being said, i’m getting my motivation back slowly but surely (if you couldn’t tell lol), though i’m having trouble coming up with ideas. that’s where you come in!

WHEN: dec 13 - dec 31 (posting may continue after the end date)

RULES: please be kind and patient, i do still have a life and a job and a family that comes first! i’ll get to every request as timely as i can. i’ll be restricting noncon/dubcon fics for this challenge specifically because i’m not in the headspace to write about those topics at the moment.

REQUEST GUIDELINES:

— please don’t request more than two dialogue prompts at once unless i specify otherwise!

— smut is allowed, though it will be much harder for me to write (no scat, underage, piss, dd/lg, noncon, dubcon)

— max of 3 requests per person in my inbox at a time unless i specify that i’ve written all the ones in my inbox!!

NOTES: everything'll be tagged with #river's resurrection writing event

MASTERLIST

— it’s 4:20 & i love u. (stoner!steve)

— high + dry. (apocalypse!steve)

— goatman 2.0. (college!bucky)

— lover, please stay. (bodyguard!bucky)

** characters, au’s & prompts will be beneath the cut! **

WHO:

bucky barnes

sam wilson

jj maybank

steve rogers

rafe cameron

AU’S:

stoner/skater

college/frat

drag racing

drummer

roommate

apocalypse

body guard

enemies to lovers/rivals

** other prompts may be accepted, please feel free to send in an ask! **

SETTING/AESTHETIC PROMPTS:

hospital

rust

graffiti

an attic

haunted house/building

smoke filled bar

abandoned church

thunderstorm

power outage

midnight

just before dawn

** other prompts may be accepted, please feel free to send in an ask! **

DIALOGUE PROMPTS:

“this isn’t goodbye forever.”

“i can’t do this on my own.”

“i’m not afraid of you anymore.”

“it’s over. we lost.”

“you promised me.” - “promises are made to be broken.”

“don’t do this, don’t go.” - “i don’t have a choice.”

“am i safe here?” - “i’d never let anything hurt you.”

“it doesn’t matter anymore.” - “of course it does.”

“i can’t live without them.” - “you have to.”

“we’ll figure this out.” - “together?” - “together.”

“butthead.” - “what, are you twelve?”

“i told you i’d come back to you.”

“you remember when we first met?” - “how could i forget?”

“i promise.” - “pinky swear?” - “pinky swear.”

“i didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much.”

“this place is creepy.” - “you’re just a chicken.”

“don’t tempt me.”

“bite me.” - “thought you’d never ask.”

“been there, done that. wouldn’t recommend.”

"don't you dare say it."

** other prompts may be accepted, please feel free to send in an ask! **

SONG PROMPTS:

swimming pools (drank) -> kendrick lamar

"i was in a dark room, loud tunes. lookin' to make a vow soon, that i'ma get fucked up, fillin' up my cup, i see the crowd mood changin' by the minute and the record on repeat. took a sip, then another sip."

dipped in bleach -> liam st. john

"well i been baptized by the spirits. yeah, last night i could feel it. bowing my head to the makers, was beggin for truth. how could i ever forsake her? she's always there when i need some proof."

devil in my veins -> yelawolf

"lately i've been afraid of myself, the closer that i get to rain. the more i'm at home, the further i'm away and all that i feel is pain."

change (in the house of flies) -> deftones

"i look at the cross, then i look away. give you the gun, blow me away. and i watched a change in you, it's like you never had wings. now you feel so alive, i've watched you change."

salt and the sea -> the lumineers

"could it be i was the one that you held so deep in the night? on the back staircase you fell to your knees with tears in your eyes. all that you suffered, all the disease. you couldn't hide it, hide it from me."

where did you sleep last night -> nirvana

"my girl, my girl, don't lie to me. tell me where did you sleep last night? in the pines, in the pines where the sun don't ever shine i would shiver the whole night through."

hey hey, my my (into the black) -> neil young

"out of the blue and into the black. they give you this, but you pay for that. and once you're gone, you can never come back. when you're out of the blue and into the black."

i could have lied -> red hot chili peppers

"a mountain never seemed to have the need to speak. a look that shares so many seek the sweetest feeling i got from you. the things i said you you were true, i could never change what i feel. my face will never show what is not real."

fake plastic trees -> radiohead

"she looks like the real thing, she tastes like the real thing. my fake plastic love, but i can't help the feeling. i could blow through the ceiling if i just turn and run."

black flies -> ben howard

"and the river's cracked and cold. see the sky is no man's land. a darkened plume to stay. hope here needs a humble hand, not a fox found in your place."

sleeping on the blacktop -> colter wall

"corn liquor tastes sweeter in this town. could it be it's the same as the last? i swear i've seen ya face elsewhere before, just as familiar as a bottle and a glass."

come as you are -> nirvana

"come as you are, as you were, as i want you to be. as a friend, as a friend, as an old enemy. take your time, hurry up; choice is yours, don't be late. take a rest as a friend, as an old memoria."

something in the way -> nirvana

"underneath the bridge, tarp has sprung a leak. and the animals i've trapped, have all become my pets. and i'm living off of grass, and the drippings from the ceiling. it's okay to eat fish, cause they don't have any feelings."

little lion man -> mumford & sons

"tremble for yourself, my man. you know that you have seen this all before. tremble little lion man. you'll never settle any of your scores. your grace is wasted in your face, your boldness stands alone among the wreck. now learn from your mother, or else spend your days biting your own neck."

rain in soho -> the mountain goats

"no promise sweeter than a blood pact. nothing harder to go through with than a vanishing act. no morning colder than the first frost. no friends closer than the ones we've lost. nothing sharper than a serpent's tooth. nothing harder than the gospel truth, though you repent and don sackcloth and try to make nice. you can't cross the same river twice."

send me an angel -> the mountain goats

"in an hour or two the sun will rise on you, and it will be clear what has happened between us. in an hour or two the wind will come through the window, the wind will tear through the house."

alien blues -> vundabar

"the sun is fun, the land is dandy. i only talk to dogs because they don't understand me. my teeth are yellow, hello world. would you like me a little better if they were white like yours? i need to purge my urges; shame. shame. shame. i need an alibi to justify, somebody to blame. it's a halibut, "party bitch," give it a name."

** other songs may be accepted, feel free to send in a request **

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[whumpay]

What’s up. Are you still recovering from Whumptober and Febuwhump? Do you want more suffering? Here’s another whump event, because I am a chaotic being.

Each day has two prompts, which are opposites or otherwise parallel each other in some way. You can use both prompts, if inspiration strikes, but it’s not required. There’s also a list of alternate prompts, if for some reason neither prompts of the day are something you want to do. You can also combine alternate prompts with days.

I know the description of the blog says it’s a writing event, but if you want to draw or make other kinds of content, that’s cool too.

I’m posting it now so you have all of April to prepare! This is a pretty chill event so you can start posting whenever but I’ll be reblogging posts made to the #Whumpay2021 tag throughout May.

Have fun, tag content warnings (such as noncon, graphic violence, etc) and try not to be crushed by the mortifying ordeal of posting your writing. I’d say be kind to your whumpees, but the less kind you see the more fun it is.

Written list below the read more

Day One: “I thought you were dead.” / “I wish you were dead.”

Day Two: Touch Starved / Touch Repulsed

Day Three: Crying Into Chest / Holding Back Tears

Day Four: Ice / Fire

Day Five: Collapse / Keeps Getting Back Up

Day Six: “Can you hear me?” / “I don’t see you.”

Day Seven: Mercy / Rage

Day Eight: Wake Up / Passing Out

Day Nine: Gentle / Brutal

Day Ten: Screaming / Silence

Day Eleven: “Don’t touch me!” / “Don’t leave me.”

Day Twelve: Not Noticing Injury / Hiding injury

Day Thirteen: Grief / Feels Guilty For Being Happy

Day Fourteen: Slammed Into Wall / Forced To Their Feet

Day Fifteen: Near-Death / Immortality Angst

Day Sixteen: “Put your weapon down.” / “Keep fighting.”

Day Seventeen: Phobia / Recklessness

Day Eighteen: Left Behind / “Take me instead.”

Day Nineteen: Hope / Despair

Day Twenty: Reflection / Darkness

Day Twenty-One: Not Alone / Emptiness

Day Twenty-Two: Mind Control / “I can’t believe you’d do this.”

Day Twenty-Three: “You’re just like them.” / “Don’t be like me.”

Day Twenty-Four: Protected By An Enemy / Hurt By A Friend

Day Twenty-Five: Goodbye / Amnesia

Day Twenty-Six: “Don’t hurt them.” / “Don’t hurt me.”

Day Twenty-Seven: Accident / Betrayed

Day Twenty-Eight: Chains / Running Away

Day Twenty-Nine: Lies / Terrible Truth

Day Thirty: Breaking Voice / Stoicism

Day Thirty-One: “I trusted you.” / “You have to trust me.”

~Alternate Prompts~

1. Sleep Deprivation

2. Apologies

3. Not Believed

4. Small Spaces

5. Fixing Own Injuries

6. Nightmares

7. Shock Collar

8. Found Family

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Touches Ask Game

Prompts for writing human connection, intimacy, belonging.

Hand-holding

The purest form of human connection.

tiny hands in big hands

calloused hands in soft hands

cold hands in warm hands

hands with the perfect ratio to each other for hand-holding

platonic hand-holding

running their thumb over the other’s hand

dancing with their hands holding onto each other

squeezing hand for comfort and encouragement

holding hands across the table

happily doing everything with just one hand, if it means they don’t have to let go

not wanting to lose each other in a big crowd

possessive hand-holding

linking hands together during sex

grabbing hand to show them something

loosely holding onto each other’s hands, laying in one’s lap

only linking the pinkies together, not ready to let go completely

holding hands while skating

excitedly grabbing each other’s hands during a concert, jumping up and down together

playing with each other’s fingers

pressing the other’s hand against their cheek

holding hands while one is balancing on a small wall

grabbing the other’s hand to pull them back from something

holding hands under the table

only realizing it when they have to let go

standing in front of each other, holding both their hands

holding their hands above their head, fingers linked together

passionate hand-holding

grabbing the other’s hand so they don’t fall

holding hands while running through the rain

brushing against each other, linking fingers together for a second

grabbing their hand to grab their attention

not really paying attention, both doing something else, but still holding hands

bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go

holding hands while driving

grabbing the other’s hand to pull them back to them

unconsciously searching out each other’s hand while sleeping

not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out

swinging hands back and forth, skipping like children

holding hands in a museum to pull them to the next exhibition

letting go when there is an obstacle in their way and immediately grabbing each other’s hand again when they pass it

loosely holding onto each other’s hand

dragging the other with them, holding their hand

raising the other’s hand to their lips to kiss it softly

holding hands while jumping down from somewhere together

comparing hand sizes, then linking fingers together

Hugs

A warm embrace.

friendly hugs

hug around the waist

hugging while twirling around

comforting hugs

side hugs

hugging and gently holding the other’s head

pulling someone into a hug

hugging while walking

eye-to-eye hugs

hiding their face in the other’s neck

clinging to each other

hugging while lying down together

group hugs

hugging with head on shoulder

tender embrace

‘not wanting to let go’ hugs

hugging from behind

bear hugs

hugging with hands in each other’s pockets

cuddling

hugs and kisses

hugging and jumping up and down together

familiar hugs

hugging with height-difference

gentle hugs

hugging with patting on back

piggy back hugs

quick hugs

hugging while slow dancing

one-sided hugs

hugging while straddling the partner

long-lasting hugs

‘picking them up’ hugs

hugging while grabbing butt

cuddle pile

Kisses

Showing affections.

goodnight kisses

hand kisses

smiling while kissing

lips barely touching

morning kisses

slow kisses

passionate kisses

kisses on the cheek

first kisses

goodbye kisses

welcome home kisses

kisses on the corner of their mouth

frustrated kisses

kissing each other breathless

soothing kisses

nose kisses

kisses as a promise

short pecks

forehead kisses

kisses on head

“we’ll face this together” kisses

kisses in the rain

life-or-death kisses

kisses for a cover

hard kisses

giggling while kissing

desperate kisses

neck kisses

hushed conversation in-between kisses

eyelid kisses

gentle stroking of cheeks

small kisses

kissing it better

jaw kisses

wake-up kisses

kissing away tears

public kisses

relieved kisses

kisses for comfort

tummy kisses

kisses to shut them up

slowly kissing down the body

“we’ll see each other again” kisses

kissing each finger

sleepy kisses

angry kisses

feather-light kisses

kisses with trembling lips

secret kisses

kisses with their last dying breath

Touching

Feeling another human’s touch.

touching foreheads

running fingers through hair

hiding face in neck

caressing the other’s hand

feeling their pulse

patting the other’s head

holding hands

shielding the other one with their body

listening to the other’s heartbeat

spooning at night

laying their hand on the other’s neck

pushing a strand of hair behind their ear

nudging the other one

putting an arm around the other’s waist

hugging each other

massaging them

holding the other’s chin up

squishing the other’s cheek

high fiving

bandaging/stitching up an injury

kissing the other’s brow

falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

carrying the other one in their arms

whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin

stroking the other’s arm soothingly

kissing the top of their head

pulling the other one towards them

feeling for each other in the dark

tickling the other one

grabbing onto their arm

doing a pinky swear

caressing the other’s back

tasting their smile

washing the other’s body

kissing their bruises and scars

lifting the other one up

putting their head on the other’s chest

stroking their leg

leaning into the other’s side

patting them on the back

sitting close and knees touching

braiding the other’s hair

giving them a piggy-back ride

sitting on the other’s lap

feeling their temperature

linking arms with each other

touching their elbow to get their attention

dancing with each other

holding onto the other’s shoulders for support

putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up

Hand-holding|Hugs|Kisses|Touching

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[screnwriter-old-deactivated2021]

a shit ton of angsty prompts

kissing your lover’s forehead as they’re dying in your arms

being forced to watch the love of your life move on with someone else, you’ve gathered enough courage to tell them you want to be with them, only to catch them holding hands with someone else 

our family won’t approve of our relationship but we have to stick together, until one day you question if the relationship is even worth all this secrecy and i can’t believe that you’d doubt us even for a second

i’m finally ready to be with you, but you’ve finally moved on from me, and i’m too late

we can’t be together but let’s make the most of the night before we have to go our separate ways, maybe watch the stars as we talk about how we would have gotten married, how many kids we would have had, if the odds had been in our favor

coming home to find your lover cheating on you, throwing all their things out the window and cursing them out of your life, wondering how they could do this to you ‘’you can’t claim to love someone, and then go and do what you just did.’’ 

being forced to kill your lover, because only one of you are going to survive, and your lover insists they couldn’t live in this life without you ‘’just promise me you’ll be happy. promise me you will be.’’ 

it’s been months since we broke up and i just found one of your old sweatshirts in my wardrobe and it’s making me miss you 

we haven’t seen each other in years but reunite at a mutual friend’s wedding, things ended badly between us and we both know it’s better to avoid each other but of course we’re seated at the same table, opposite each other 

we’re broken up, you’re over at my house to pick some of your stuff up, and neither of us know how to act, so i just let you inside, you grab your things, and leave as quickly as you came

you’re over at my house to pick some of your stuff up, and as you load the last of your things into your car, you head back to my front door to say goodbye, and somehow… we wind up in bed 

being forced to kill your lover, but you can’t do it, so they take your hand, and help you press the knife into their chest, while the antagonist watches your every move, making sure neither of you try to run 

having to watch your lover die, as you’re restrained by the antagonist, unable to fight your way out of their grip, yet your eyes are glued on your lover’s 

having to say goodbye to your lover, who’s moving across the world, kissing them goodbye one last time before they board the plane. during your last kiss, your lover says they didn’t think you would make it to the airport but ‘’i couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye.’’ 

two character’s dying together, laying outside in the cold, rain, holding hands 

a love triangle in which, lover #2 recognizes how toxic lover #1 is for the main character ‘’one of you will end up killing the other. whether that’s physically or emotionally, one of you will end up killing the other. there’s no dimension in this world where the two of you end up happy.’’

accidentally catching your ex or the person you’re in love with getting frisky with someone else, and having to pretend like it doesn’t bother you

going to your lover’s house to apologize for something you did, but instead of being let in, you get the door slammed in your face ‘‘why are you here?’‘ ‘‘i’m here because i love you, and because i want to make things right.’‘ ‘‘well, i don’t want you here, so go away.’‘

one character, with trust issues, gets drunk one night and spills how insecure they are in the relationship ‘’you don’t. you don’t love me. you only love me when it’s beneficial.’’ or the partner is caught cheating and the character drops those words

your lover telling you that they don’t love you anymore, or that they’ve found someone else, and as you pack your things, you find a photo of the two of you together, from a time when you were happily in love

unrequited love, in which i just poured my heart out to you, telling you i love you and you said that you don’t feel the same way, and then you leave, and i’m standing here, not sure what to do, i can’t even cry that’s how shocked and heartbroken i am

‘‘you’re the worst thing that has ever happened to me. no, listen to me. you’ve destroyed me.’‘ 

a break up in which, one person doesn’t have any feelings for the other anymore, while the other one is still head over heels in love with them ‘’but that doesn’t mean that our love wasn’t real. doesn’t mean that you didn’t love me enough, or that you weren’t loved. you were. you’ll always be.’’ ‘’just not in the way i love you.’’ ‘’no.’’ 

promising your lover that you’ll make it home in time for your anniversary, but something comes up and you’re late, which screws up all your plans for the evening, and instead of celebrating your anniversary, your lover goes to bed, and barely utters one word to you the next morning

it’s toxic, and we’re not good for each other, and ‘’i love you so much it’s killing me.’’

begging your lover to open the door so you can talk things through ‘’i know you’re in there. [character], please, open up.’’ but as they won’t, ‘’at least let me say goodbye.’’ 

a character using their last bit of strength to kiss you goodbye, before they close their eyes for the last time 

two characters are about to kiss, but pulls away last second when one character says ‘’this isn’t right.’’ and the other replies with ‘’you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.’’ 

‘’you said you wouldn’t break my heart, and then that’s exactly what you did.’’ 

‘’i don’t want to listen to a single word coming out of your mouth.’’

‘‘we can’t be together. it’s too dangerous. you understand that, right?’‘

one character, who’s either been brainwashed or cursed by the antagonist into trying to kill their lover, has their lover pressed up against the wall, a knife to their throat, having tried to convince their lover to kill them instead, before they hurt them, in which their lover says ‘’go ahead. do it. if you’re telling the truth, if you’re so convinced you’ll kill me, do it.’’ and the character stares at their lover, who then says ‘’if you weren’t in control, you would have done it a long time ago.’’ and it then leads to the character slowly gaining back control, breaking the curse or whatever. alternatively, if you’re related to the devil himself, you could have the character kill their lover, and then right after they’ve killed them, they snap out of it, dropping the knife to the ground, in pure shock as they watch their lover’s dead body fall to the ground ? you guys wanted angsty prompts it’s not my fault also i’ve done this to my own character welcome to hell

i might make a part two