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#how to attract your soulmate
cosmichighpriestess · 3 months
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How to Fall in Love with Yourself and Attract your Soulmate.
We must give ourselves everything we need to be the best version of ourselves. A hard truth you must learn is that some people only want you when you are not loving yourself, some people only want you when you are toxic because that is what they are used to, they only want you when you are feeling not very confident, feeling insecure, low self esteem, needing external validation, when you beg for them and when you are not truly loving yourself. That makes it easy for them to disrespect you and use you. That makes more sense to them, than you being a healthy minded person with self respect and standards. If people want to deal with you then they have to understand you don't identify as the identity they assigned for you.
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You must set high standards for yourself from the very beginning. "This is how I want to be treated and this is what I will accept." But my love, you must not disrespect yourself again even for that instant gratification. It's not worth it. Understandably, society has programmed you to feel shame about yourself in almost every aspect of yourself, never good enough, never whole as you are now ect. but it's a big lie, it's meant to take you off your higher path to keep you locked into the 3D matrix always searching outside of yourself for the love that's already within you. My love, when you catch yourself beating yourself up, stop become aware and say enough is enough. I love every flaw, every part of myself now as I am. I don't feel l need to fix myself. I need to love myself as I am now.
Never expect love from humans, who cannot even love themselves. Look to the higher dimensions for love if you truly need it when you cannot give it to yourself. Everything you need is within you. You just need the keys to unlock the doors to the house of your consciousness and your heart. You've been programmed to believe that you should just accept you'll never be good enough. Question everything forced down upon you. Why are they trying so hard to get you to do something when you are already whole, complete and perfect already? When you already have everything because everything you desire and need already exists. Your internal reality reflects your outside reality, just shift your perspective to already being that, to already having that desire. It can't change without you deciding. "I am simply deciding I am in love with myself. I am simply deciding I have 10,000 dollars ect." Everything else is a lie being sold to you to get you to question your worth and to get you to chase something outside of yourself.
False, illusion and you were also never taught in school, or in church, by society that if you want others to treat you a certain way, then you must first treat yourself the way that you want to be treated. That is the real reason why most relationships do not last. It's easy to say that these people hurt you are to blame and that they just need to become better people. But if we populate everyone in our reality, if we don't realize we have subconscious negative beliefs about men or women or relationships then we will never reprogram ourselves to attract healthy divine relationships with people who treat us with respect and love.
You've been mistreating yourself my love and seeing that lack of self love reflected back. There are hidden aspects of you that you rejected that are completely loveable, even spirit guides within you that you haven't met yet because you reject those parts of yourself. Unaware, unknowingly, unconsciously. We all have done it at some point. Unless your parents taught you self love from a young age and you never knew people walked around feeling unworthy and unwanted. The universe is a gigantic mirror, and it always reveals to you what’s going on inside of you, rather than what you want the world to think or see. For most of us we were taught that if you want love you have to give all of yourself and become a shell of yourself to receive a breadcrumb of love and acceptance. Lies. False. Illusion.
You are already whole, complete and perfect as you are now. Anything else you experience outside of you is just a bonus. Real love is equal give and take, it's an added bonus of the love that you already have for yourself. You will never need anyone to complete yourself. You can be happy forever single. It's true. If that's what you choose but you deserve people who love you. The golden rule is, treat yourself how you want to be treated. Be the love you want to receive. Be the partner you want to attract. Romance yourself. Hug yourself, kiss yourself, tell yourself everything you've longed to hear from another. Treat your body like you would a loved one, feed it, nurture it, water it, spend time with yourself alone. Gaze into your own eyes in the mirror and meet other versions of yourself in the mirror. Supplement and support yourself.
Tell yourself you will never settle for scraps again. This is your story, this is your life, and your book. You will respect yourself from now on and never settle for disrespect again. Disconnect from disrespect. See it neutrally, don't judge yourself for feeling upset. Then release and forgive yourself for creating the experience unknowingly. You were doing the best you could with the information you had. There's nothing wrong with you. It's not too late to flip the script and change the narrative. You know who you are. You know how they made you feel. They don't. They created a version of you they want you to be but you can be more creative and flip the script on them and be better than they could ever imagine.
But it's not about them. It's only about you, your self conception of yourself, how you view yourself, how you view others, how you view the world, how you define meaningless things, how you believe things will workout for you or don't ever workout for you, how you believe things about yourself and my love it's not selfish, it's wise to have self love and confidence. It's rebellious to love yourself in a world where we are programmed to hate ourselves. People must understand that you don't identify with the person they think that you are supposed to be. You are not the same person as you were yesterday.
Who you are at your core stays the same, but how you perceive yourself and the world changes everyday. You are a brand new person every single moment. You get to rewrite your story and write the story you prefer because you simply don't like the book that you were reading before. " Oh wait a minute I forgot. I'm in a library, let me put this book down and pick up the book of my heart." That is the story that you prefer, isn't it?
So, all you have to do is reprogram yourself to attract what you prefer. All of your beliefs are meaningless so you can erase them and delete them at any moment. You do that by embodying who you want to attract, and you do that by changing your subconscious beliefs and shifting your vibration to match the frequency of your desires. " I only attract healthy minded genuine people. I am in amazing relationships with people who inspire me. I meet people who are who they say they are. I only attract Divine partnerships. I am surrounded by a superior support system. I only attract healthy, loving, genuine men and women." Ect. Your internal world reflects your outer reality. Your internal world reflects your outer reality. Your internal world reflects your outer reality.
You can say these affirmations as much as you want, the more you say them and believe them, the more they generate energy and the more powerful they become. Everything you desire wants you more. You always get what you want. You are more than worthy of everything you desire. You are a God or Goddess or however you identify. Whatever you want others to think and say about you, please think those thoughts and say those things to yourselves. You are nothing short of pure magic. You deserve to be confident in every situation. Abundance is what you are, so that means you will always have more than enough of what you need.
Whatever it is that you want, you can have as much of it as you want. Tell the Universe what you want to see reflected back to you. Say, "Show me Universe how unconditionally loved I am. " Because remember, if it has conditions it's not real love. It's fake. You are good enough alone as you are. You don't need another person to complete you. But you definitely deserve a loving partner if that is what you so wish and desire to have. You have so much more to give others when you first feel whole and complete in yourself my love. I love you. I believe in you. You are loved beyond measure by the Universe.
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vulturevanity · 11 months
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normal thing to say about your dear friend who you think is really cute and charming and hard-working and basically the perfect wife material
#hamefura#my next life as a villainess#otome game no hametsu flag#aaand rewatch done! now my honest thoughts#good start. the middle is kinda boring. ep 8 doesn't exist don't worry about it#this anime draws me in in the same way that Futari Wa does#in that it has a fascinating main cast and a very vague skeleton of a worldbuilding that leaves me wanting to overthink it#unstructured thoughts incoming:#Geordo's still a creep and no matter how much the story wants me to like him I just can't#Keith's siscon is very Yikes! and that's so bad because I love his and Katarina's relationship as siblings#Katarina lowkey thinks Sophia is a freak but never kinkshames her and that's so bestiecore of her. they're soulmates your honor#Mary is SUCH A LESBIAN holy shit. I did not remember how much lesbian she is#I'm lowkey annoyed that the show frames her attraction to Katarina as “haha funny isn't she weird?!”#like in the sleepover episode she was describing the things she'd like to do with her beloved and she's being like. normal about it#but the soundtrack does a silly and I'm like. wow this anime does not like her huh#I swear Geordo and Keith are even weirder about Katarina than she is but the anime always gives them slack about it#unless they're having their homoerotic squabbles. which is to say the anime does Not Like The Queer Coding of the story#I'm sure there are worse examples of weeb homophobia but there are a couple moments I saw in the manga but not here!#anyway where was I. Oh right. Ascart Sibs Autusm 👍🏼#Nicol doesn't have much presence in the story due to his quiet nature which is so sad because his inner world is intriguing#he's such a good friend. loyal and caring. I wish we got more of him in this season#and finally: Maria. God. what is there to say about her that I haven't already#the girl came in with a 7 year disadvantage on her rivals and yet Katarina is all over her!#rewatching season 1 is so weird because I could swear she had more presence than she really does because holy shit#Katarina loves her! so much! wtf#maybe I'm remembering season 2?#anyway these are my thoughts on doomflags season 1#2nd watch edition#oh I almost forgot#romance in chiaroscuro
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mazojo · 1 year
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Please do yourself a favor and go watch Smiley
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hardtreekoala · 9 months
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The Quest for True Love: How Will You Find Your Soulmate?
Finding your soulmate is a journey that many people embark upon with hope and excitement. While the path to meeting your perfect match may seem mysterious and uncertain, there are certain steps you can take to increase your chances of finding that special someone. In this article, we will explore some strategies and insights that can help you on your quest to find your soulmate.
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Know Yourself: Before you can find your soulmate, it's essential to have a clear understanding of who you are and what you want in a partner. Take time to reflect on your values, interests, and life goals. Consider your strengths, weaknesses, and the qualities you admire in others. By gaining a deep understanding of yourself, you'll be better equipped to recognize a compatible soulmate when you encounter them.
Define Your Priorities: Clarifying your relationship priorities is an important step in finding your soulmate. Think about the qualities and values that are non-negotiable for you in a partner. Consider what kind of emotional connection, communication style, and shared interests you desire. This will help you prioritize and focus your efforts on finding someone who aligns with your vision of an ideal partner.
Expand Your Social Circles: One of the most effective ways to meet potential soulmates is to expand your social circles. Engage in activities and hobbies that genuinely interest you, as this will increase the likelihood of meeting like-minded individuals. Attend social events, join clubs or groups, and consider online platforms that cater to your interests. By actively participating in activities you enjoy, you're more likely to encounter someone who shares your passions and values.
Foster Genuine Connections: When you meet new people, approach interactions with an open mind and an authentic attitude. Building genuine connections requires active listening, empathy, and a willingness to be vulnerable. Engage in meaningful conversations and show a genuine interest in others. By fostering deeper connections, you increase your chances of meeting someone who resonates with you on a profound level.
Embrace Self-Improvement: Working on personal growth and self-improvement not only benefits you but also enhances your chances of finding your soulmate. Focus on developing your emotional intelligence, communication skills, and self-confidence. Cultivate self-love and practice self-care, as a healthy relationship with yourself lays the foundation for a fulfilling partnership with another person.
Trust the Process and Be Patient: Finding your soulmate is not a race; it's a journey. It's important to trust the process and remain patient. Understand that it may take time to meet the right person, and there may be setbacks along the way. Embrace the opportunities for personal growth and enjoy the experiences and connections you make along the path. Remember that timing is often crucial, and your soulmate may come into your life when you least expect it.
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Conclusion: Finding your soulmate is a unique and personal journey that is different for everyone. By knowing yourself, defining your priorities, expanding your social circles, fostering genuine connections, embracing self-improvement, and practicing patience, you increase the likelihood of meeting your perfect match. Ultimately, the key lies in being open to love, trusting the process, and having faith that when the time is right, your soulmate will appear in your life.
Yes, we CAN predict your perfect match The Universe knows your Soulmate - do you?
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How to Attract Your Twin Flame or Soulmate - Attracting Twin Flames and ...
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randomcanbian · 2 years
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sabrinaboglund · 20 days
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Law of Karma - 5 Things You Should Know about the Universal Law of Karma
The Law of Karma is a Universal Law that most people THINK they know, but actually don’t fully understand because the Law of Karma is NOT the same as the Karma Law. The Karma Law is a more general concept that whatever you send out will come back to you. The Universal Law of Karma has a few more nuances than what you send out comes back. They are similar but still different. So, I completely…
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bunnykibun · 4 months
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WATCH FULL VIDEO HERE
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hawkinsbnbg · 9 days
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Steve got Good boy inscribed on his butt, just on the right cheek.
It would be funny if it was a tattoo Steve had gotten one time when he was too drunk and on a dare.
Except it wasn't a tattoo. At all.
Even though it kind of looked like one.
It was the first words his soulmate would say to him.
When Steve first got it, his friends had given him odd looks in the locker room.
Tommy would use many excuses to touch and even Billy wouldn't shut up about it.
As for Carol, she just cackled her head off when he showed it to her.
Still, whenever Steve was alone, he would look at the words in the mirror and feel kinda giddy about the whole thing.
Who would call someone they had just met "good boy"? What if they were far older than him?
And what would his words be for them? "Yes sir"? "Hello sir"?
Soon, he found his answer when he learned about the BDSM world, which Robin had jokingly mentioned one time.
And Steve sort of fell down the rabbit hole since then.
He met many men and women who would call him "good boy", and occasionally "good girl".
But none of them felt right.
Until he heard about Kas.
Who was known to be an experienced dom and knew how to treat his subs right.
Most of the subs in Steve's circle put the man on a pedestal. They practically worshipped the ground he walked on.
And Steve had become curious enough to seek him out.
A quick text over the phone and Steve already had a date with Kas at a hotel on Friday night.
Once the day arrived, he dolled himself up a little, knowing many doms liked how rosy cheeks and pouty lips he was.
He even wore lipgloss and mascara just for good luck.
His outfit was simple enough to take off, but cute nonetheless.
A yellow and pink graffitied black sweater that was a little baggy on him, a tiny pearl choker, silver bracelets, a pair of jeans shorts, and baby pink sneakers.
He looked like a twink, all things considered.
It wasn't his first time dressing like this and it wouldn't be the last time, either.
Steve just..
Well, he just wanted to make sure if he stumbled on his soulmate who happened to be a dom, he wouldn't disappoint them too badly.
It had been years since his word first appeared. So he had the right to be a little bit desperate.
Steve didn't know why, but by the time he got to the hotel, he was a puddle of nerves.
He figured that maybe it was the "Kas' effect" that many people had told him about.
When the door opened to let Kas into the room, Steve just knew this man was going to rock his world.
Kas was attractive and tall. Easily having a couple of inches on him.
With long curly hair, big brown eyes, and plump lips, the man looked surprisingly intimidating.
He wore a burgundy shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, showing his tattoos and chunky silver rings.
His pants and heavy boots were made of leather, which Steve suddenly wanted to rub himself on.
He seemed to be a lanky type, but Steve knew better than to assume anything.
As Kas languidly made his way to the bed, Steve unconsciously slid down to the floor and got on his knees, waiting for his order.
Yeah, he was a good boy like that.
There was a reason why many doms had asked to keep him despite knowing he only let his soulmate own him.
Kas wasn't any different.
The man smiled at him, dimpled and warm, making Steve woozy a bit at being praised even wordlessly.
Once Kas sat down, he spread his thighs slightly and patted a hand on his lap.
Understanding the silent command immediately, Steve climbed up on it without being told twice.
He blushed and giggled a bit when strong arms wrapped around his waist securely.
"Good boy," said Kas huskily, smelling of cigarettes and something spicy. "What do you want for your reward, sweetheart?"
Steve felt his breath hitched at that. He knew the chance wasn't high but–
"Can I kiss you, sir?" He asked coyly, playing his role to perfection.
This time, it was Kas who took a sharp intake.
Surprise, disbelief, uncertainty, hope, and finally, joy settled on the man's handsome features.
Kas smiled at him again, more genuine and hopeful.
"Baby boy, do you know that I have those words written on my left ribs my entire life?"
"Show me," Steve demanded, unable to keep up the act when he was so close to finding his soulmate.
Without protest, Kas unbuttoned his shirt and there it was, scribbled on the man's pale skin was Can I kiss you, sir? in his handwriting.
Smiling fondly, Steve traced his fingers on those words.
They sounded so sweet. And yet concerning if being put into the wrong context.
What a pair they made.
"Can you show me yours, sweetheart?" Kas asked tentatively, looking unsure despite having been so confident just a few minutes ago.
"Yeah, sure, of course," Steve scrambled up from the man's lap and blushed as he turned around to unzip and pull down his shorts.
Hearing Kas curse quietly behind him was, perhaps, the most flattering moment in his life.
He could see what kind of an image he made with his baggy sweater bunching up around his waist, white thong, and Good boy being inked on his tanned buttcheek.
Some would call it hot, sexy, or erotic.
But Steve knew how obscene he looked with those words on him.
Especially when he was face down and ass up, waiting to be fucked into oblivion.
Not that he had let anyone fuck him, yet. But he wouldn't mind if Kas did it tonight.
Steve shuddered slightly as calloused fingers brushed on his cool skin, and let out a moan when hot lips placed a tender kiss on his cheek.
Then without pausing, strong hands grabbed his hips before sharp teeth sank into his flesh, eliciting a yelp from him.
It wasn't painful. It just made Steve want to ask for more. So he turned around to do exactly that.
"Kas–"
"Call me Eddie," the man tugged him back into his lap.
"Eddie," he breathed out as he straddled the man's thighs.
"Yes, my sunshine?" Eddie smiled adoringly at him.
"Can I kiss you now?" Steve braced his hands on the broad shoulders with a raised eyebrow.
Tightening the arms around his waist, Eddie pecked him on his chin, sweet and loving.
"How about I let you kiss me for the rest of our lives, my pretty angel?"
"And I'll be yours for as long as we live?" Steve murmured against those plump lips.
"Yeah, gonna treat you right, my good boy," Eddie chuckled before drawing him into a fervent kiss.
Steve was so going to thank that Chrissy girl who had sold him her mascara and lipgloss later.
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"Stuck in a Trap."
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𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 : deer!Alastor x human!Reader
𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 : reader finds herself wandering the woods alone and falls upon a wounded stag stuck in a bear trap.
𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨 : deer Alastor, human reader, marked, soulmate trope in a way
𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 1.3k
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It was a cool night in spring. Nice enough to take a walk outside. You had decided to chose a descent into the woods behind your house. It wasn't dangerous or anything, had a nice gravel path. A few miles into it became an attraction to some tourists. Those who were into the whole haunting thing.
The most you heard were some silly ghost stories. What nonsense, you thought. Some believed there was a portal straight to Hell sitting in the thicket somewhere. Some believed there have victims from past murders buried in there. You weren't exactly into paranormal shit, you've lived and roamed these woods for years now.
No, the closest you have seen were the crazy amounts of dead deer lying on the floor. Hunters perhaps? Maybe mountain lions? Nah. The state of the deer made you feel bad, queezy more like. The poaching of the animals was upsetting to say the least. Whenever you went on these walks, you made sure to break whatever traps you could find. More often than not, all being bear traps. It was illegal in this area after all. Nobody really enforces the law around here considering how scared everyone was with this place.
You had been walking for what felt like a few hours. Your cue being the red and pink sky to head home. Oh but it just feels so right to be there. It wasn't until you heard a loud animal like cry that you stopped in your tracks. You bet it was a deer caught in a trap. What were you thinking following a scary sound like this. This kinda thing should only happen in scary movies.
After a few minutes of wandering around for the source of the sound, the creature in question comes in to view. It was a stag. What a divine animal this was. It was a lot larger than most deer, the biggest set of antlers you had seen. And it's color was dazzling. It was as if it reflected the crimson sky above it. There was no way that it was it's natural color.
Inching closer to it, the reason of it's cry came to your attention. A hoof was caught in a bear trap like you originally thought. Blood dripped from it's ankle, in attempt to soothe it, he licked it. Blood staining around it's mouth. Looks like he'd been there for quite some time.
Bending down to the ground, you hold up your hands hoping the creature would realize you were going to try and release it. All he did was bellow in hopes to scare you away. But you just stared in amazement. Your hand just inches away from the trap, the stag notices and understands your actions. Staying still for a few seconds.
His hoof finally free, you put the bloodied old bear trap in your bag. The beautiful creature bows his head slightly, one of his front hooves folding beneath him, obviously showing a little gratitude. You bent down to meet his gaze, returning the unusual human-like gesture. You didn't really think about it too hard.
Your hand reached out to him, in hopes he'll accept your advances. The stags ears laid back against his head as he pressed his forehead into yours. He backed away slightly, giving the entirety of your forearm a well deserved lick before bounding back into the thicket of the woods.
What a strange interaction. Something you surely won't ever forget whether you liked it or not. Upon looking down, you notice a green glow surrounding the area the creature marked. Looked like it was making out a subtle A-like symbol. Well time to proceed home and wash off.
A few years had gone by and the mark still remained on your arm. After many specialist appointments and surgeries, the doctors were just as stumped as you were. It wasn't a tattoo of any kind, no ink was found in the skin. It wasn't skin cancer. And crazy as it is, after several biopsies the mark simply grew over the scar tissue. It was a complete mystery as to what that mark was. And if you told everyone where you truly got it, they would all think you were nuts.
If that wasn't enough, you often felt prying eyes around your secluded house. The paranormal stories were beginning to sound sane after all the experiences you had. There have been many nights where the stereo would turn on by itself or static would just be heard. Or nights when a dark yet comforting shadow would loom over you as you slept. You eventually became accustomed to these intrusions. Most would have moved out by now.
Whatever was here was like a dark guardian angel. You weren't thinking about the holy ones whom would just, look after you, wish you the best of luck and bring you to heaven when you died. No. This one was different. The type to personally interfere with human affairs to keep you safe. The idea wasn't too off-putting considering you had done been in two severe car accidents and a tornado; somehow leaving all situations unscathed.
More often than not, you would have dreams about the stag you had found in the woods all those years ago. Talking about how you belonged to him. How you live under his protection. He had a name too but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. His voice was really unique and drew you in like a magnet. The dreams you've received were so surreal. Like you've known him all your life.
If this was paranormal, you were going to do some digging. The term typically refers to the dead, right? The town library should have records of your property and the folks who lived there before you.
It thankfully didn't take much to get the information you were looking for. There were several newspaper articles from the 1930's that included details of a man named Alastor. Alastor.. that was the name you heard in your dream. It explained the mark on your arm.
He was a local serial killer who targeted those who were for the most part ill intentioned. Especially toward women. He was found dead in the woods behind your house, burying one of his victims. Mistakened for an animal. Which is why to this day hunting is illegal in those set of woods.
More newspaper articles opened up about his profession. Despite the mans.. er.. hobbies, he was quite the talent as a radio host back in the 20's. Youtube even had some of the old audio recordings. Your heart soared upon hearing his voice. This was him. The stag you saved, the shadows watching over you, and the voice that whispered to you in your dreams.
What didn't make sense was.. why was he a stag of all things? Why did it feel real? Well, as it turns out, the power of the human soul varies in the afterlife. Some could just interact with inanimate objects while others can only muster a sound whether it be naturally or through something called a spirit box. Then, what was Alastor?
Ultimately, you had fallen in love with Alastor. Over the course of your life, you had gotten to know him from your sweet dreams. He often thanked you for your kindness. Never had he met someone that put his faith back into humanity. Who would show such a lowly animal mercy and generosity? And the day that you arrive in Hell, he'll be there to catch you and say.
"The name is Alastor, the radio demon. A pleasure to be finally meeting you properly. Welcome home, ma chère."
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a/n: i would just like to say that none of the pictures are mine, creds to the amazing artists 🎨
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after-witch · 2 months
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Check Out Time is Eleven [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]
Title: Check Out Time is 11 [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]
Synopsis: You're invited to a hotel for a warm meal and a place to sleep by a mysterious stranger. Soulmate AU.
Word count: 7100ish
notes: yandere, kidnapping, mentions of drugging, a really useless and non-philosophical reference to My Dinner with Andre
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The red thread on his finger loses slack for the very first time in his life, and for the smallest of moments, Chrollo Lucilfer forgets himself. His steps falter, expensive, stolen shoes nearly scuffing on the sidewalk, and a startled breath quivers through his chest. His mouth gapes, ever so slightly. 
In surprise.
In trepidation. 
In realization.
The red thread was, had always been, attached to you. His soulmate. Whoever you were. The gentle tugging of the thread meant that after years of fruitless searching, you were finally somewhere nearby, close enough to reach. Probably, given the tautness of the thread, even within walking distance. 
How lucky for him. 
How unfortunate for you. 
You were finally discovered. You were finally within his grasp, fingers itching, warm satisfaction blooming through his skin. How often had he ruminated over the fact that you had yet to belong to him? How often had he wondered what you would look like, how you would feel under his touch? And what you might do to him when he had you in person? Would he find himself changed, however slightly, as the others in the Troupe had been? Or would he mold you with his own presence, looming over you like a shadow?
The mere thought of you is enough to get his heart racing, bring a bead of sweat to his neck. It was so unlike him, and wasn’t that a thrill? 
And then, just like that, the moment is over. He recollects himself and his mouth closes and his mind whirs back into focused gear. 
He needed to find you, first thing. The rest of the logistics could come later. 
His eyes track the movements of the thread, and without missing a beat, he turns on his heels to follow the direction of the movement. It was possible--no, highly probable--that you were close enough to reach on foot. Within the city, certainly, and he didn’t mind the exercise. 
As he continues to walk, the cold gleam of the business district turning into rows of glitzy restaurants and downtown attractions, he’s glad that you weren’t too close. It gives him more time to think about what he wants to do with you. 
The Troupe members that had already found their soulmates--and Chrollo feels a surge of pride in his chest, counting himself among them now, fulfilled in that goal--had taken on different approaches. 
Some merely kidnapped their soulmates and kept them in secure locations. Simple, effective in terms of security, but that would ensure it would take him a long time to win you over. And he knows that he will do just that, eventually, no matter how he decides to keep you. Others took their time, attempting to strike up something of an ordinary relationship before revealing their knowledge of the red thread, and persuading their soul mates to come with them for safety (and romance)’s sake. Surely the more appealing of the two options, but it did come with the downside of expended time and energy. 
What he would do with you depended on so many factors. Did you live in some stationary location, or were you prone to travel? What did you do for a living? Were you already in a relationship, some inferior partnership with someone who could never appreciate you the way that he could, as your only soulmate? 
All of these questions circle heavily in his mind as he walks, following the thread that was becoming tighter and tighter between the pair of you. The ritzy downtown buildings were now gone, replaced by rows of old buildings that had seen better days. In place of fine dining were small cafes and diners that practically exuded grease, laundromats with blinking signs, and the occasional busted out window. The scores of people walking, gabbing, waving around fancy handbags were replaced by only the occasional person walking with clear destinations in mind, eyes in front. 
As the thread becomes even tighter, it leads him down an alley that most people would have surely avoided. But he doesn’t worry about the glances of the people leaning up against heavy exit doors, or the people crouching on the ground with needles against their arms. He thinks about you. Will he find you here, perhaps, curled up in the arms of a drug dealer pumping you full of toxic chemicals that flushed you with endorphins and heat? Or you might be on the other side of the needle, pocketing cash and going on your merry way? 
But, no. Perhaps not. Instead of leading him further into the den of seedy dealings, the thread brings him away, feet crunching on broken bottles, towards some type of fenced-in parking lot. Or it had been a parking lot, once
From a short distance through the metal fence, he can see burning barrels, tents, carts. The smells of cooking grills waft over, greasy foods, easy to cook outdoors. It wasn’t a new sight, in this city or otherwise. Chrollo had seen worse. Had lived worse.
And then, there--at the end of the red thread that weaved in between one of the fence’s metal honeycombs: you.
He sees you for the first time and knows, with a burning intensity that threatens to knock him over, that he needs you. He needs you now. He needs you always. You have something that he lacks and perhaps possessing you will give it to him. 
Is this what the others felt, when they first saw their soulmates? Or is it something unique to you and him? Some unfathomable bond that has shaken him to his core? Not for long, of course, never for long. He regains his senses within moments and catalogs the feeling away for later analysis. 
It’s you that he focuses on, now.  And the fact he will have you, as soon as he decides on the where, when, and how. He wouldn’t be the leader of the Phantom Troupe if he wasn’t skilled at taking what he wanted. 
Today what he wants is not a gallery of paintings or a rare gruesome artifact, but a person. 
You.
What to make of you? 
You’re standing in front of one of the burning barrels, rubbing your hands together. They look red and chapped, even from his vintage point. Behind you is a shopping cart filled with odds and ends. On the side nearest the fire, you had clearly laid out clothes over the edge of the cart--wet ones, from rain or maybe you’d had the opportunity to wash them. Your current ensemble is a simple hodgepodge. Clearly, you wore whatever was cleanest, whatever was warmest, whatever you could find. 
He remembers such a living. 
You appear to be on the outskirts, avoiding the groups scattered around the encampment. No one approaches you and you don’t approach them. A loner… by choice, or not? You wouldn’t be alone for long, if it wasn’t by choice, and in time you might be grateful for it. If it was by choice, well, there were ways to tame feral cats. 
It doesn’t take much analysis to decide what to do with you, to decide how best to approach things. He’s glad that he wore something casual today. Just some simple slacks and a nice sweater. If he was overdressed, it might be more difficult. Not that he couldn’t manage it, but he enjoys advantages when he can get them. 
With no hesitation, he walks through one of the ragged gaps in the metal fence and begins to approach you. 
Your head jerks towards him the moment that his steps become even remotely close. He doesn’t mind. It’s only natural, especially for someone who has been living the way you surely have. There’s a tugging somewhere inside him--memory of himself and connection with you.
He smiles, not broadly, but in a way meant to disarm. 
“Hello,” he says, stopping a few feet away from you. 
You stiffen. 
“I’m Chrollo,” he continues. His voice is undisturbed and calm. As if he was meeting you on a sunny afternoon in the park while you were both buying ice cream from the same cart. That might have been a more charming meeting, he muses, but this one can work to his advantage just as easily. “Won’t you tell me your name?”
You snatch your hands back from the barrel and step, refusing to turn your back to him, behind your cart.
“None of your business,” you say. 
And oh, he thinks, it would be heaven if he could somehow bottle the first time he hears your voice and listen to it on demand. But he supposes, he has the rest of his life--and yours--to hear you speak.
“That’s all right.”  He gestures towards you, the cart, your life. “I see you are in need.” You frown at him, but he continues. “How would you like to go somewhere warm?”
Your lip pulls back in a sneer and you move yourself on the other side of the cart.
“I don’t do that. Fuck off.”
Ah. You thought he wanted you to--well. It wouldn’t be the first time people took advantage of others in less fortunate situations. There had been enough of that in Meteor City. 
“No, nothing like that,” he says, voice going soft. “I should have clarified. I’m a… missionary of sorts. I look for people in need and offer what help I can give. I’d like to buy you a hotel room for the week.” He notices your wary expression. “Or even the day, if that would be more comfortable for you. Somewhere you can get some safe sleep, a shower, something to eat. I wouldn’t even be there.” 
He recognizes the look on your face all too well. Wariness. Suspicion. The face of someone who knows that people are tricky and greedy and cruel. That people will take things that they haven’t earned. Oh, yes-- he knows all of that so well, from both sides.
And he also knows how to get your guard to drop enough for him to accomplish his goal. Sure, mistrust is essential in an environment like this. But mistrust can always be overpowered when there’s something essential within reach. Like comfort. Or food. A warm place to stay, even if it’s just for a few hours. A private bathroom, a toilet, a tub.
“I don’t know,” you say, finally, having given him the appropriate stare down.
He nods his head.
“I understand. I would feel wary myself, in your position. It’s perfectly reasonable.” It is more than reasonable, he thinks, but you don’t need to know that. You just need to believe that coming with him will be worth your while, worth ignoring what he’s sure is a growing pit in your stomach. 
“What I would like to do is accompany you to a hotel where I often book rooms for those in need. It’s a private room, of course. And I will pay for your meals.” He sees the gears turning in your mind at the promise of a bed. The promise of food. “I have my own room in the hotel, but it’s on a different floor, and I won’t have to see you at all,” he adds, and this is how he will make you step over that cautionary line. “I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Everything is pre-paid on my card, of course, and you’re free to order whatever you’d like. What do you say?”
He lets his words hang in the air, wafting like smoke from the nearby barrels. 
You wet your lips. You glance around at the people around you. A few of them have taken notice of Chrollo, perhaps as a mark, perhaps more; but he pays them no mind. He could kill them in a fraction of a second and whisk you out of here just as easily, if he needs to… But he hopes it will not come to that. 
“All right,” you say suddenly, softly. “If… you’re just going to give me a room and feed me, then all right.”
Chrollo smiles. It is, he thinks, perhaps close to a genuine one.
“Wonderful. Follow me, if you please.”
--
The hotel is expensive, but thankfully not terribly ostentatious. Chrollo would hate to put you off by throwing you into some gilded lion’s den. But the hotel is more reserved, classy. Comfort and luxury without any of the ridiculous trappings that often come with them. 
Chrollo does bring you with him to the front desk, if only to reduce the chances that the security will kick you out for looking out of place. And you do look out of place, but perhaps that’s for the better. It will make you appreciate what he’s going to do for you more, won’t it? 
You’re quiet all the while, but that’s to be expected. You only hold tight to your backpack, where everything you hold dear has been crammed, and let him do the talking. A reservation is easily made under the guise that only you are to know the room number--you certainly don’t need to know that he’ll swing back and reserve the connected room next door--and the key is given without fanfare from the polite desk clerk who gives you curious glances but nothing more. 
Chrollo walks you to the elevator, ever the gentleman, and hands you the key. You stare at it. The uncertain expression on your face is unbelievably precious, he thinks. He hopes he can see more of it before it inevitably morphs into shock and anger and fear. 
“Would you like some new clothing?” Chrollo asks, after he pushes the button on the elevator for you. “I can have some sent up from the hotel’s boutique. I’ll tell the front desk, so they can give the concierge the room number. Ah, and I’ll need to know your size, if you’re willing to give it.” 
“You want to buy me clothes?”
You almost splutter out the words, and he has to restrain himself from kissing you right then and there. You are terribly cute, and there’s a slight disturbing tinge to how much he finds everything about you enticing so quickly. The way you furrow your eyebrows at his question. The slight look of embarrassment, the twitch of your lips. 
He needs you so much, and he’s only known you for a few moments.
You tell him your size, then glance at him before staring at the glossy metallic doors. “Um, I need something warm. No useless stuff.” Your head gestures back towards the hotel lobby, where a few women are walking on the arm of male companions, dressed in sleeveless dresses and likely heading for the restaurant. 
“Of course.” Chrollo does not tell you that he can envision you wearing all sorts of useless things in the future his mind is creating, brick by brick. You would look heavenly in something strapless, something slinky. Something that hangs off your shoulders. He would drape a fine wrap over them, were you behaving enough to go out with him--no one else but him will be privy to such delicacies. 
For now, though, he resolves to send you the clothes he knows you want. Things will be a little more seamless if your guard isn’t entirely raised. 
The elevator doors open.
Chrollo steps aside, and gestures for you to enter. 
“This is where I take my leave. I will let the restaurant host know your name, and you can order whatever you’d like. It’s on my card. Please, don’t feel the need to hold back.”
You take a step inside the elevator and ah, there it is. Just the slightest hesitation. The slightest jerk of your head as you look back at him. Do you feel bad, leaving him in a lurch when he’s giving you charity? Do you feel beholden to him in some way?
“I guess it’s okay if we share a meal. You’re paying for it, anyway. It’d be awkward otherwise.” You stare down at the elevator carpet as you say the words, and Chrollo realizes that he’s perhaps misjudged the gesture. Your sense of shame, maybe, outweighs your desire to be rid of him and his potential alternative motives for assisting you.
That might come in handy.
He nods, as you turn around and make brief eye contact with him. 
“Well, then. How about we meet here in 5 hours for dinner? I can send something dressy to your room, if you’d like.” 
You shrug your shoulders as the doors close, which is as good as assent in his view. The string on his finger rises with the elevator, but now there is no fear that he’ll lose you. The string, something which had been maddening in its slackness for so long, is now something of a treasure itself. A little leash, keeping you to him, wherever you go.
Which, for now, is your hotel room--meaning he needs to get moving. He won’t pick anything too flashy out from the boutique; something modest, something simple. There are delicate steps to take to avoid making you feel ashamed without offending your sense of dignity all in one go.
Thankfully--for you and himself--he’s attuned to such needs. 
5 hours. That would give you enough time to take a shower or bath, to change into the fresh clothing he’ll send up, to take a nap. Perhaps you’ll stare out the hotel window at the view or curl up in the bed, rolling on the fresh sheets. 
Five hours would give you time to freshen up and relax, yes. And it would give him enough time to get hold of Shalnark and procure anything he needs to make your removal from the hotel as smooth as possible.
--
The shower is running again. He doesn’t blame you. He remembers days where a hot shower was a luxury beyond imagining. 
He keeps his side pressed against the door connecting your rooms--not that you know he is on the other side with a key to yours, of course--and holds back a contended sigh as he watches the red string on his finger twirl and shift with your every movement. 
What are you thinking about? He wonders. Are you thinking about how long it’s been since you had a hot shower? Are you thinking about slipping the shampoo bottles into your backpack?
Perhaps more inviting… are you thinking about him?
He knows what’s on his mind, and has been for the last few hours now. You. 
What were you like, deep down, underneath your layers and justifiably guarded stance? Maybe you liked to read, maybe you once had a dream of being a dancer before life went to hell, maybe you were shy, maybe you liked to get drunk and sing your favorite songs at full volume. 
What would  you be like, once you were fully his? 
What do you look like, underneath all of your clothing? What has nature and nurture shown fit to bestow upon you, your skin, all those secret places you keep hidden? 
The thread bobbles again. Are you stepping out of the shower soon, or still scrubbing yourself? You’re so vulnerable, naked and unawares, just a few feet away from him. The water running is a delicious sound to his ears, because he knows that you’re underneath it. 
He imagines what you might look like naked. He imagines what sounds you might make, underneath him, gasping and--
Oh, but he’s getting ahead of himself. He smiles and shakes his head at the rush. He should slow down, yes. Slow down and savor it all.
He clenches both of his hands. In one is the duplicate key, in the other is a syringe. Both go into opposite pockets, awaiting their respective time to shine.
--
The dress that arrives at your door with a prim knock from a porter is not quite what you expected--which is a relief. You expected the stranger to send up something ridiculous. Something slinky and glittering, maybe with only a half shoulder. 
But instead it’s a simple dress with a flared skirt, all made from dark blue fabric. The sleeves are elbow length, the neckline isn’t too low, and there’s a matching black belt to go with it. He’s even sent up a pair of nylons, which are something you haven’t worn since you were a little kid, desperately trying to mimic your mother’s fancy outfits. 
He also--and maybe this is overkill--sent up a few pairs of shoes in different sizes, along with a transcribed note instructing you to call the front desk if none of them fit, or simply wear your own shoes if you are uncomfortable with it. 
This stranger--Chrollo--is awfully accommodating. And kind. And considerate. 
Which is exactly why, when the dress is on and your nylon-clad feet are resting in the shoes easiest to run in, you tuck your switchblade into one of the dress pockets for safekeeping. 
Maybe he is just kind. Or he’s one of those people that makes themselves feel better by occasionally being charitable; he’s harboring some sort of guilt that can be alleviated, however temporarily, by buying a person a sandwich or two. 
But maybe he’s not. You’ve known people who have been hurt or killed or sometimes worse by so-called charitable people. People that lure you in with showers and hotels, meals and clothing. People that slit your throat before or after they have their way with you.
Life was dark and life was shit, and you weren’t born yesterday. If this stranger had any nefarious intentions, you certainly weren’t going to walk into them like a bleating lamb. 
And yet, and yet… some part of you wanted to believe he had good intentions. You’re not sure why, exactly. You weren’t the type to look on the bright side or always see the good in people--or at least,  you hadn’t been that way since childhood. Yet something about this Chrollo made you hope that he was a good person. That you’d have a nice conversation and he wouldn’t do anything more than give you a nice afternoon and a place to sleep comfortably for a bit. 
It was an almost primal feeling, which made it all the more stranger. Your gut feelings usually told you something like: this place is dangerous, this guy’s probably got a gun, that alley’s too notorious to use as a shortcut. 
Your gut didn’t give you silly notions, like wanting to trust someone, hoping they would talk to you during dinner, wondering if they’d be pleasant to be around for longer. 
--
At least, not before today.
“And the lady will have the cailles aux raisins.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“Quail,” Chrollo says, allowing the waiter to take the leather-bound menu from his hands. As if your issue was with the choice of food--okay, you didn’t know what it meant, but still--and not that he ordered for you. “Stuffed with shallots, grapes, liver, and ah, I believe, some cognac, if I’m not mistaken.”
“That’s correct, sir,” the waiter says, not giving you a second glance--you didn’t even get a menu, which irked you, but considering you had nothing to pay with and perhaps the hotel staff knew it, it was a practical snub.
Your lips twist into a frown, although you suppose you can’t complain. The dish does sound good.  Not that you’ve ever had quail. But it can’t be that different from chicken. Or duck. You had duck, once, as a kid. Your mother brought you to a hotel just like this for a Mother’s Day brunch and you sat at a table with an embroidered cloth and wore a pair of your mother’s white gloves, so that you would look extra fancy.
“I apologize,” Chrollo tells you. “I should have asked your preference first.” The strangest part is how sincere he sounds, like he really didn’t want to offend you. Like he actually might be interested in what you want to eat. Part of you can appreciate that, and part of you wants to finger the handle of your knife inside your pocket.
“It’s fine.” You shrug it all off. Because you can, and you choose to--but also because you’re famished and the smells wafting from the other tables is enough to make your stomach growl. “People usually don’t order things like this for me, anyway. If they do give me anything.”
Chrollo tilts his head slightly, looking at you like a particularly interesting painting on a wall. “No?” 
You smile thinly. “Nope. I’m lucky if I get someone’s leftover fries from a fast food shop.” 
“What a shame.” He places both hands on the table, clasping his fingers together. His gaze bores into yours. You look away, briefly, but find yourself wanting to look back. How odd. “I’m sure,” he begins, talking slowly, measuring out his words, “that must be demoralizing--to be treated as lesser-than.”
You can’t help the snort that comes out your nose, or the quick words that follow. “Yeah? And what would you know about that?” Your eyes rake over his outfit, your mind whirls over how much money he’s spent on you alone, as if it was nothing. A drop in the bucket. Some rich man playing with his money. Or daddy’s money, depending on the circumstance.
Of course, you expect him to get offended. You expect him to call you ungrateful and cancel the order and ship you out of here like yesterday’s trash. It wouldn’t be the first time someone has gotten angry that you didn’t play into their savior fantasies. Your muscles even prep to stand, your face goes stony, ready to block the anger that he’ll throw your way.
Only... none of that happens.
His face looks--it’s hard to describe, really. It’s almost like it glitches for a moment, and you see something you weren’t meant to see. You’re not even sure if he realizes it. And then his expression gets so remote and so quiet. He looks away from you for perhaps the first time, looking instead, at his hands.
“I know a lot about that, actually.”
It’s not offense in his expression but… sympathy? No, that’s not it either. You know “sympathy face” like the back of your hand, for all the good it does you. 
It’s empathy. Trace, but there. A shared experience between you. Maybe that’s why you’ve felt inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt all day. Why you went with him in the first place, hunger pangs aside. 
“So you’ve been…” You begin, but is there a need to finish. He’s been homeless, or something like it. Downtrodden. On the bottom. 
He nods.
“Sorry.” The word comes out blurted but soft. Well, I’m an asshole, you think. 
He smiles at you, a soft, thin thing--almost like a gloss that covers up his previous expression. “No, don’t be. You had no way of knowing, dear.” 
Dear.
The word hangs between you silently, as if it’s being dangled on some sort of invisible string. He opens his mouth slightly--maybe to apologize--but shuts it when you don’t say anything. Instead, he simply blinks, and watches you.
Perhaps a minute ago you might have bristled at the nickname, might have sought to cut it right down, in fact. But for now, you brush it aside. He’s being nice--he knows what you’re going through. And sure, there’s some sort of guilt relief in his actions, but it’s not coming from the place of a rich man making himself feel better. It’s coming, you think, from a place of not just knowing where you’ve been but having been there himself. 
Before either of you can speak, the waiter returns with your appetizer and despite the guilt in your gut, your hunger practically sings at the sight of the plate of bread and butter. It’s fancy bread, already cut, gleaming with what smells like garlic butter spread over the top. 
The flavored butter is shaped like a rose and it’s only after you childishly dip your bread right into it and take a loud, chewy bite of the delicious goodness that you realize you’ve committed a faux-pas. There’s a tiny butter knife on the plate, obviously meant to delicately smear the butter onto your bread. And here you are, gnawing on the piece like some sort of medieval peasant during a bad harvest. 
A pang of shame tingles over you. It’s a silly kind of shame--inconsequential, really. Who cares how you eat bread at some hotel you’ll never step foot in again in your life? But it lingers terribly. Until Chrollo picks up a piece of brand and dips it right into the butter, too, taking a chewy bite with far less graciousness than you imagined with his sophisticated appearance.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” He asks, not even bothering to cover his mouth.
You smile. You almost-snort. And the shame dissipates like ice crystals on a sunny day, as you and Chrollo both finish off the appetizer. He lets you eat more without saying a word, which you appreciate.
There’s a lot to appreciate about him, really. He’s been kind. He hasn’t been terribly condescending, dinner order notwithstanding. And he seems to know how to approach you with actual empathy and not just the sticky, coddling sympathy that most people do.
And you won’t lie--he is nice to look at. He even smells nice, but with the amount of money he had to spend on the clothing he sent up to your room, he can likely afford to buy expensive cologne.
If he notices you staring, he says nothing. Instead, he half-closes his eyes and appears to be deep in thought. Over… you? Or dinner? 
He hums a bit under his breath, and you realize: it’s the music. It’s a delicate song being played by a small group of musicians set up on a stage in the corner. It’s familiar… your brain strives to catch up with your ears. 
“You like this song?” You ask, because the silence has stretched too long, and the bread is now gone.
Chrollo opens his eyes and regards you with a sober smile. “Yes.” He pauses, then. “It’s--”
“Elgar's Chanson de matin,” you blurt, before he can. “I know it.”
His eyes widen, just a tad. Enough to show that he’s curious. A funny bit of pride thrums through you. It can be retribution for the quail earlier, you decide.
“You’re familiar with his work?”
You feel your cheeks heat up, even though you don’t get the sense that he asked to be cruel. He seems actually interested. Like he wants to know you. It’s nice, and confusing, and a little startling. 
You nod, wishing there was more bread to break up the conversation. “What, you think someone like me can’t be interested in classical music?
“Of course not.” He answers swiftly, resolutely.
 He reaches his hand towards yours and grasps it before you can think to pull away. It seems silly to yank your hand out of his, so you don’t. Even if the way he looks down at your interlocked fingers makes goosebumps dance up your arm. 
His expression is so strange. He looks… lonely. And desperate. And relieved. But why? 
Both of your gazes meet for one electric moment and for that moment, you feel like he sees you. And you see him. Not as clearly. But you see something inside him that is not quite on the surface. Something which does make you pull away, but not with distaste. You withdraw your hand from his slowly, like he’s a wild animal that you don’t want to startle.
The waiter, impeccable timing as ever, arrives with the main courses just as your hand makes its way into your lap. 
And just like that, the spell is broken. Ripples of water dash whatever it was between you, and he’s speaking charmingly to the waiter, who appears swiftly again with a glass of champagne for each of you. You weren’t intending to drink, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt. It could calm your nerves.
Neither of you talk much for the rest of dinner. It’s not tense, exactly, but you can tell there’s something in the air. Questions unspoken, maybe, or just an awkwardness between two strangers who seem to both understand and misunderstand each other in equal measure.
The hotel’s restaurant begins to thin out after your main courses are taken away. A dessert menu is brought, and Chrollo orders a simple slice of cake for both of you. 
Real vanilla bean frosting is on your lips when you ask your question. Quiet, but with most of the other guests gone, he has no trouble hearing it.
“So you were… homeless, before?”
You’re not sure why you need to know this. To confirm that he’s not some rich boy playing with his father’s money? To see how much he can really understand you? Maybe the champagne went to your head. You don’t normally drink, it wouldn’t be impossible.
His fork stalls as the question comes out. He glances up at you and there’s nothing offended or hurt in his eyes. He seems to weigh his answer before he gives it. It doesn’t really surprise you; he could be just as mistrustful of you as you are of him, couldn’t he?
“Something like that.” He rests his fork on his plate. “I suppose you are trying to decide just how much I can sympathize with your… situation.”
Heat floods your cheeks, and you’re grateful the water brought another glass of champagne that you can sip from to loosen the tightness in your chest.
If he notices your flushed countenance, he doesn’t remark on it. You like him better for it. He continues speaking, looking at you with a measured expression. Like before, his words come slowly and carefully, given to you with something akin to grace.
“Our situations were not exactly similar. I don’t find it terribly useful to compare them. Better in some ways, worse in others. Like anything.”
“Better?” You dab at your mouth with a napkin. 
“Ah.” He seems to weigh his next words with even more scrutiny before he decides on them. “I had something you didn’t, which surely benefited me.”
“Which was?”
There’s something wistful in his voice now. It makes you lean forward over the table. With most of the other guests gone, it feels strange to talk so openly about clearly delicate matters. Chrollo mimics your lean, and while he doesn’t take your hands across the table into his, you get the feeling he’d like to, if you let him.
“Companionship,” he says simply. The word settles in the air like a brick that seems to land right on your chest. You blink and feel the beginnings of tears in your eyes. You really did have too much champagne, and this is all getting to be a lot. You start to lean backward when he speaks again.
“Aren’t you lonely?”
“No,” you lie. The shock of the question does make you lean back fully. Then, to be spiteful. “Are you?”
He doesn’t answer. He only looks down at his hands and the empty spot where yours used to be, and then back at you. 
Nothing more is said on the matter. He pays for the meal and leaves a nice fat tip for the waiter--who has, you think, been lurking nearby either to witness your drama or to make sure no one swipes his tip from the table--before escorting you back to the elevators.
Shame slams back into you while you’re standing in front of the elevator doors.
“I’m sorry.” Sure, he asked it first, but fuck--you hate being rude. If you were rude. It was hard to tell how Chrollo felt about anything. The champagne making your head fuzzy doesn’t help. Not at all.  
He tilts his head a little. “What for?”
Your eyebrows furrow together. “You know, for asking… for being…” You wave your hands around a little. It’s too hard to put into words. You’re tired, you feel out of sorts, and you’re tipsy bordering on drunk. You can give yourself some forgiveness in a lack of coherency in this matter, at least.
Chrollo regards you for a moment before he shakes his head, scoffing a little as he smiles.
“For being yourself? Or at least showing some small part of it to me? I don’t mind.” He holds out his arm and you, unsteady champagne fuzz in your head, take it. “I’ll escort you to your room, if that’s all right. I don’t feel comfortable letting you go there alone.”
You should tell him that you’ll be fine. You should. But the champagne in your brain and the way you feel drawn to him--however slightly--makes “should” fly out the window. So you nod and let him lead you into the elevator, where the ride up makes you dizzy enough that Chrollo has to steady you carefully, and you mumble out another apology. 
He only chuckles a little and helps you walk out of the elevator without stumbling over the threshold. Your room is just down the hall and he keeps a steady grip on you the whole way, even though you’ve told yourself that you won’t stumble anymore. It feels weird, to have someone so close to you; to smell his cologne and feel the warmth of his skin.
It feels weird, yes, but giddy too. He is handsome. And he did buy you dinner. And clothes. And he’s not as shitty as you thought he might be at first. The way he ate the bread in solidarity with you earlier--you can’t forget that, can you? It was… cute, even. If someone like Chrollo could be called cute.
Is it the champagne, the newness of this stranger-but-not-entirely, the rich disarmament that comes with a full stomach and freshly washed face? All of the above? Whatever it is, it’s got you thinking too much about Chrollo as he gently takes the key from your hand and opens your hotel room door.
A gentleman, he only sees you just inside before taking his leave, promising to meet you for breakfast in the morning--if you’d like.
You would like, you tell him, and the door shuts and locks swiftly afterwards. Chrollo’s cologne lingers in the air, or maybe it rubbed off on you from all the steadying he had to do. 
The hotel room is just as you left it. Clean and pristine, smelling vaguely of lemon. Your duffel bags and personal belongings are shoved in the corner. Maybe you’ll try to read one of your books tonight, before you sleep? It would be the first time you read on an actual bed in ages. Maybe you could even call for room service? A little midnight snack? It’s not like Chrollo would mind, or at least, he probably wouldn’t. It’d be something small anyway, nothing wild. 
Unless you wanted a bubbly nightcap. 
Full of ideas, you take your giddy champagne self back to the bathroom to change into pajamas that he sent up earlier, humming Elgar’s Chanson, thinking about bread and quail and… Chrollo. The knife in your dress pocket gets left on the bathroom counter. It was silly to bring it, now that you think about it. 
Still humming, you flop on the bed and grab the menu for room service. It wouldn’t hurt to order some extra dessert. And another glass of champagne. Maybe two… 
You’re so out of sorts that at no point for the rest of the night, before your weary head hits the soft pillow, do you stop to wonder how Chrollo knew your room number.
--
There are few things Chrollo truly regrets in his life. One of them, he knows, will be that he couldn’t plant himself in this town for a few months in order to properly court you; to introduce you, gradually, to the concept of nen. To the knowledge that you were his soul mate.
But it can’t be helped. He has to leave tomorrow night, come hell or high water. And he certainly won’t let you drown here a moment longer. It’s for your sake. You’ll come to realize that eventually, just as you will--in time--come to forgive him for what he must do.
You’ll no doubt regret letting down your barriers in the morning. But if you hadn’t been so keen to trust in someone, to trust in him, then he wouldn’t have gotten to see something of the real you underneath all of that built-up survival instinct. And didn’t you see something of him, too? He thinks you did. Just a moment, a spark, but it was there. 
You sweet thing. He could hear you humming through the door earlier; heard you order room service (champagne and desserts) and he regretted not having Shalnark swoop in during dinner to set up some security cameras. 
The key to your room feels heavy in his hand. On this side, he is simply himself, staring ahead as the red thread of his soulmate leads away from him. But once he turns it into the lock and quietly opens the door, there will be nothing between you but sleep.
He opens the door and relishes in the way the thread sags even further downward. If only you could have seen how beautiful the thread looked during dinner, all tangled up as he clasped your hand in his. That’s how the thread was meant to look. Not tight and taut and unforgiving.
You’re fast asleep when he silently enters the room and unlocks the deadbolt so that Shalnark can help him remove you from the premises. Curled up underneath the covers, you look like you’re in bliss. It’s likely the first restful sleep you’ve had in a long time. Months? Years? 
How awful for you, to wake up tomorrow and realize that you’re no longer in the hotel bed. And that he’s the one to blame for it. How awful for him, too, to lose his grasp on the tentatively pleasant and revealing evening you had together. But he doesn’t think you’ll be empathetic on that matter. Not for a while, anyway.
He sits down on the bed next to you and it takes a considerable amount of self-control not to curl up against you. It’s not worth the risk of you waking, although the tranquilizer in his pocket could be jabbed into your thigh early, if need be. 
Besides… you’ll have a lifetime of nights together after this. 
There’s no need to rush what is finally his to keep forever. 
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astrow1zar6 · 5 months
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Venus Sign Observations- 011
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Venus in Leo’s are those girls in hs you think “how early does she get up to get ready?” You rarely ever see this placement have ugly days they are all so well kept & usually smell incredible. The types to wear their hair in really trendy styles, wear designer outfits and perfumes. BIG on luxury. In a relationship they LOVE being shown off and given lots of attention and compliments. they also love when their partner begs for their attention.
Venus in Libras are really easy to impress lol, all you really have to be is semi attractive. My libra Venus friend every time we go out would be like “OMG THAT GUY IS SOOO CUTE” but say that about 15 other guys that day😂 the women can be VERY obsessed with the opposite sex. They are such flirty people.
Venus in Taurus gives conventional housewife vibes lol. They are into classic feminine hobbies such as sewing, cooking, making jewelry/ clothes, art. If you marry a women with this placement you hit the jackpot.
Venus in Scorpio men tend to be cheaters. Everyone talks about their loyalty but they are only really loyal once they feel they’ve truly found their soulmate (in most cases are rare cuz they’re picky) a lot get bored of their relationships once the passion dies (similar to Aries Venus). They tend to prefer emotionally complex women to keep them on their toes.
Venus in Aquarius’s tend to look really good with circle frame glasses. They pull it off soo well. Also if you have this placement and are looking for new fashion ideas. Look up cyberpunk/Dystopian aesthetic. Y’all would look amazing in that type of style.
Most Venus in Virgos I meet are not big on the physical aspect of love. It takes them SOOO long to open up physically. This causes a lot to get friend zoned. They express their love very differently from most Venus signs which can cause some confusion in their relationships. They are big on acts of service & the intellectual side of love.
Venus in Aries usually always makes the first move when liking someone ( man or woman) they can jump into relationships fast just for it to end just as quick. They really date for the excitement and fun of having a new crush. But once that it becomes deeper than a crush and gets serious most usually back out. Also they can get turned on my arguing. When things become dull they will normally create some issue to keep the sparks alive. To more sensitive signs this can be very draining.
Venus in Geminis are very hard to pin down. I notice their feeling for their partners never seem quite genuine? I notice even in relationships they try to seek out attention from other people. They need a lot of mental stimulation to keep their full attention on one person. And if they’re partner fails to stimulate them they’ll find someone else who can. It’s very rare they catch true feelings for someone but when they do they’re surprisingly loyal.
Venus in Pisces kinda irritate me lol. The men are always talking to different women. They are big on following their heart, but if their hearts tells them to talk to five girls they would😭 it’s very rare to see the men of this placement settle with one woman. The women of this placement I notice are amazing lovers but tend to give it to usually terrible neglectful partners:( I’ve seen women with their placements bust their ass for men that barely give them the time of day.. y’all deserve a lot better than that.
Sagittarius Venus’s tend to date people who are a different ethnicity as them or date from foreign countries. They have a deep appreciation for culture and traveling. So they may also travel with their partner a lot. This is imo the most loyal Sagittarius placement. I’ve seen people be in relationships for years with this placement.
Cancer Venus’s are extremely sweet and nurturing in a relationship. Gives Mommy vibes 🥺. The types to bring you home cooked meals get your bath water running. A lot a notice tend to be very submissive/vanilla. They require a lot of emotional attention and babying even themselves. They types to prefer at home dates compared to traveling or going out.
Capricorn Venus tends to take partnerships like it’s a job (similar to Virgo Venus) they see attending to their partners needs more like a duty which is why they can appear cold in their affections even though they mean well. Emotionally it can be harder to connect with this sign but once they trust you they’ll show you a very sensual romantic side they’ve been hiding. They mostly express love through gift giving. These partners give some of the best most expensive gifts. Just know you’ll be taken good care of if this placement loves you 👌🏽
Venus in Scorpios look AMAZING in black. Any dark aesthetic look great on them. And they may prefer partners with a darker aesthetic as well
Venus in Aries women tend to feel more comfortable having male friends than other women. Usually we’re tomboys growing up
Libra Venus’s are usually really good at makeup or look amazing with a full face of makeup.
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navybrat817 · 3 months
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How often does Dad!Bucky get hit on when he's in the baby aisle grabbing diapers?
A lot, Cia! And you get to see it one day.
The Dad Diaries: Diaper Aisle
Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You witness a woman flirting with Bucky, but you don't react the way you expect. Word Count: Almost 1.2k Warnings: Fluff, flirting, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), parenthood, random woman thirsty for Bucky (we get it), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Next part of The Dad Diaries and from your perspective. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky doesn’t like to make a big deal out of people flirting with him. For starters, he’s a married man and has made it clear that he has no intention of ever stepping out on you. He would never. You are his wife and soulmate, the love of his life, and the mother of his child. You’re all he needs.
Second, he’s unassuming. You tell him regularly how handsome he is, but he isn’t arrogant about his looks and doesn’t think every woman who looks his way has the intention of hitting on him. He may give a polite smile or nod if he catches someone staring, but will immediately divert his attention back to the task at hand, such as getting those diapers for Jamie.
Fatherhood is sexy on him.
“Your Dada is amazing,” you say to Jamie as you wait beside your cart for Bucky to grab the box.
You smile to yourself when a woman nearly runs her cart into the shelving when Bucky walks past. Not that you blame her for staring. With his luscious locks flowing free, his worn jean jacket fitting like it was made for him, and the sweatpants leaving little to the imagination, you would’ve gawked at him, too.
Which you did earlier and were now.
“Excuse me,” the woman calls out loudly, making Bucky pause as he puts the box under his arm. “So sorry to bother you, but would you mind grabbing a jar for me off the top shelf? I would really appreciate it.”
“No problem,” he says, giving you a small smile from across the aisle as he goes to help the woman.
You wait patiently as the lady thanks him with a grin. You get why she wants Bucky close by. Beyond his overall gorgeousness and kindness, he displays a responsible side of himself when he walks through the baby aisle. He never carries himself in a way that says he’s annoyed or inconvenienced by being there. Carefully selecting the diapers and anything else needed shows how attentive he is. And responsible.
You understand the appeal.
Though, you do wish the lady would stop undressing your husband with her eyes. You practically hear her inhale when he’s close enough. He does smell good, but does she have to step into his space?
“This one?” Bucky asks.
The woman has to blink a few times before she responds. “Oh, sorry. The one next to it. You really are too kind,” she answers, sweeping her gaze over him from head to toe as he reaches over for another jar. You have to bite the inside of your cheek when she takes it from his hand. “It’s too bad you can’t help me bring this stuff in when I get home.”
Yeah, it is too bad.
Clearing his throat, Bucky nods in your direction. “Well, my son might miss me if I’m away for too long. And I’ll miss him and my wife.”
The woman goes rigid as she looks your way. “Your wife?”
Bucky smiles from ear to ear when you wave. “Yeah, my wife,” he proudly states, making your heart skip a beat.
Any jealousy or bad feeling you have slips away when you see some of the light leave the woman’s eyes and the sag in her shoulders. It’s almost like seeing her in a different light because you know how you’ve felt since giving birth. At times, you feel less attractive than normal, that your body won’t be the way it used to be. You wonder if Bucky still wants you.
And you want to be seen.
While you don’t know her story, you understand the need to feel wanted and desired. It doesn’t go away when you become a mother. You don’t even know if she is a mother or if she’s in the aisle shopping for a sister, friend, or someone else. Maybe her partner isn’t giving her the attention she needs. Maybe she isn’t with anyone.
Maybe she just needed a win today.
“Take care,” Bucky says politely before he walks toward you, leaving the woman alone to stare after him. “Anything else we need?” He asks once he puts the diapers on the bottom of the cart, giving Jamie a small tickle and making all three of you smile.
“I think we’re good,” you say, glancing down the aisle. You could grab Bucky’s hand and stake your claim as the woman makes eye contact with you, but you give her a small nod and a sympathetic smile instead before you push the cart away. “That was nice of you to help her,” you say once you’re out of sight.
Bucky raises an eyebrow as he glances your way. “I don’t usually say this outright, but I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.”
“Oh, she was,” you agree.
“Does that bother you?” He asks, brushing a kiss to your temple and making your heart race.
You shake your head as you think about it. “It did at first because it’s only natural to feel that way, but it went away pretty quickly. I have no reason to feel jealous or defensive. If it would’ve been bad or crossed a line, I would’ve stepped in. But you proudly proclaimed that I’m your wife and she backed off right away. And I know you’re coming home with Jamie and I, so why would I let it bother me?” you explain, spotting something soft in his gaze.
Like he’s amazed by you.
“That makes sense,” he says.
“I can only hope that someone like you comes along for her,” you add, your heart going out to the stranger.
The blue of Bucky’s eyes shine a bit brighter when you catch his gaze. “I love you,” he says so tenderly that you feel butterflies in your stomach and heart.
“I love you, too,” you promise before you nudge him. “And you know what? I don’t fault her at all. You know what wearing those pants does to people. It’s like some sort of sexy magic.”
His nose crinkles as he laughs, the sound making a few turn their heads. Once again, you don’t blame them for gawking. “Did you just say ‘sexy magic’ in front of our son? Is that why you like these pants?”
“Oh, yeah. You put a spell on me,” you smirk before you smile gently at your son. “And I’m very lucky for that because now I have you.”
You don’t know it yet, but Bucky will write in his diary to Jamie about how you handled yourself today. How you could’ve stormed over and grabbed him or made a snide comment to the woman, but you didn’t. And that if you felt jealous, even for a moment, you didn’t let it cloud your judgement. You know when to observe and when you need to step in. You know when to lead with your heart.
Just one of the many reasons Bucky Barnes considers himself lucky to call you his wife and the mother of his child.
And no matter how many times he gets hit on in the diaper aisle, he’ll always come home to you.
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I adore this family. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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How to Attract Your Twin Flame or Soulmate - Attracting Twin Flames and ...
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eleganzadellarosa · 3 months
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pairing: newlywed!mingyu x newlywed!fem reader
genre: SMut 😏 and fluff
warnings: MDNI (kinda drunk sex? definitely pussy drunk Gyu, dacryphilia, overstimulation, pleasuredom! gyu, size kink (it’s obvious), daddy kink, breeding kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), slight exhibitionism? slight dumbification, pet names (baby, angel, princess, pretty))
word count: 1.8K+
A/N: just a lil something because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. As always, enjoy and thanks for reading :)
For better, for worse
In sickness and in health
Till death do us part
The words flowed so naturally between the both of you, waiting for this day to come after being engaged for a year. It’s not like you weren’t used to kissing him, but this kiss was special. A kiss that only happened once if things went well. A kiss to be cherished for the rest of your lives.
Everything had gone according to plan, the day was absolutely perfect. Mingyu was your soulmate, you clicked the first time you met and the rest was history. He knew you like the back of his hand and vice versa. You never thought you’d find someone like him, but now he was yours till death did you part.
There was something so seductive and attractive about knowing you were his and him, yours. A promise of loyalty and love. He sat across from you sipping on his third bottle of soju, looking absolutely ravishing. He ditched the suit jacket and tie that he had worn just a few hours earlier and the first few buttons of his white collared shirt were undone.
Maybe it was the vibes of today or the amount of shots you downed, but the way he looked had you feeling feral. It came from deep within, like the only thing that would help is if he fucked you so hard you would feel it in your throat.
“Whatcha staring at angel?”
His words snapped you out of it, his voice not helping your problem. His chest peaked through the open fabric, so tan…you wanted to run your tongue over it. He leaned forward, waving a hand in front of your face.
“Baby, come talk to me.” He patted his left thigh, beckoning you over. Was he really going to have you sit on his lap out in public?
You shakily stood from your seat, thighs rubbing together to hopefully do anything to stop this agonizing throb. He looked up at you but just barely due to his tall stature. You sat down, his arm wrapping around your waist and his hand softly patting your butt.
“What’s going on pretty? What’s on your mind hmm?” He planted a kiss on your lips, patiently waiting for you to answer.
You could easily just tell him the issue and he would immediately take you home to fix it. Yet, the feeling was so overwhelming that even him doing nothing, his cologne filling your nose, had you dripping wet.
He ran his other hand under your dress and up your thigh, making you pant. “Just as I thought. Need Daddy to get you out of here?”
You nodded as you played with the collar of his shirt, a blush creeping on your cheeks. He quickly called the waiter for the bill as you returned to your seat. You gathered up your things as Mingyu paid and followed him to the car. He opened the door for you like the gentleman he is and even leaned in to buckle your seatbelt.
He got in on the other side, smirking when he saw your hands pressed together between your thighs. God why was this so hard? You were on the way to the hotel Mingyu rented out for the two of you; all you had to do was wait.
He saw how desperate you looked as you tried your very best to contain the pulse running through your pussy. Mingyu thinks you’re so cute when you get this horny and he loved being the one to fix it for you. There was a red light and a few cars in front when the idea popped in his mind.
“Lay your seat back and spread your legs for me angel.”
You looked over at him confused, only because your mind didn’t fully register what he said. Your body started to move when his hand worked your dress up your legs. You’d already changed out of your wedding dress for the reception and opted for something shorter and more form fitting.
You followed his orders and laid the seat back slightly and spread your legs wide, or as much as the car would allow. He licked his lips and moved your panties to the side. You could’ve made him crash with the way your pussy glistened under the passing street lights. You were absolutely soaked.
No need to wet his fingers before hand, being able to plunge two thick fingers inside you with the utmost ease. Your jaw fell slack, a moan escaping your lips.
“Fuck baby you almost made Daddy crash, you’re so wet.”
You looked over at him with heavy lids. He tried so hard to keep his eyes on the road, but you had a tight grip on his arm as you bucked your hips up to ride his hand. You were moaning and whimpering with how good it felt at this angle and with the width of his fingers. He pumped them faster, feeling your walls contract and your pussy leak more slick.
“Be a good girl for Daddy and cum on his fingers.”
He used his thumb to rub circles on your clit and that’s what does it. Your whole body tensed up and you let out breathy moans as you came down from your high. You hadn’t noticed you were parked in the hotel lot until you see Mingyu turned in his seat watching you.
“Gyu, I…I need more.” You clawed at his arm desperately and his brows furrowed.
“Trust me, with how hard you have me right now, I wouldn’t want anything else.”
He sucked your juices off his digits and quickly got out the car to rush and open your door. He helped you fix your dress and kissed your forehead as he lead you to the check-in desk. The hotel looked fancy from the outside so you could only imagine what the rooms looked like.
Not even two seconds after you walked in did he have you in his arms bridal style, taking you to the bedroom. Guess a room tour would have to wait. He laid you down on the edge of the bed gently and sunk down on his knees. He tugged on the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs. He pressed your legs apart, big strong arms holding you in place.
“Look at this pretty pussy all for me…” he was in complete awe of how tasty you looked. If there was one thing he loved doing, it was eating you out. You tasted better than anything he’s ever had, Mingyu thinks.
He licked a fat, long stripe from your entrance to your clit. Your legs tried to move down but he was not letting up on his grip. He was eating you out so messily, spitting and licking everything back up; fingers playing with your leaking hole. He slurped on your clit then moved down to fuck his tongue into you, his nose brushing against your bundle of nerves.
Your chest heaved as you cried out his name, hands tangling in his dark locks. Your ears picked up on how he moaned too, you know he was having the time of his life. You felt that familiar tightness in your stomach, signaling your orgasm was coming soon. You were tugging on his hair now, ripping deep groans from him.
“G-gyu gonna cum!” Your head felt fuzzy. You were almost sure you were going to faint from the pleasure.
As impossible as it sounded, he felt himself get harder. “Go ahead pretty, cum all over my tongue.”
A few more curls of his fingers and sucks on your clit, you came violently on his face. He stopped after you settled down and stood up, chin glistening. It was him now who felt like he couldn’t wait any longer. He removed his clothes and yours after. He pushed you up further on the bed and rested his hips in between your legs. His dick felt warm and heavy against you and you were already just as turned on as you were a few minutes ago.
“You’re so beautiful baby, I love you so much.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he rolled his hips into you. He looked down as he slowly inserted his dick in you, moaning at the feeling of your walls so tight around him. “Fuck, I don’t know if I can go slow, you feel too good.”
“Don’t go slow, fuck me dumb Gyu.”
That’s all he needed to hear. He set a vicious pace from the start, stretching you out deliciously. No matter how many times you had sex with him, he seemed to never fail to open you up. You grabbed onto his biceps for stability, not able to reach anything else with how wide his body is.
If he’d known how intoxicated you would have him, he wouldn’t have drank so much soju. You were his everything, his world, his partner for life. You looked so gorgeous underneath him, writhing in pleasure from his deep and fast thrusts. He hoped this feeling never faded and you loved him as much as you do now for always and forever.
You sounded so pretty whimpering and stuttering out his name. Your knees were back at your chest as he pinned you under his large frame, making you feel so small in comparison. This new angle had him hitting new depths. He maintained eye contact as he moaned and sped up this thrusts. You weren’t sure how much longer you would last. Your mind was slowly going blank the more he pressed down into you.
“S-so good Gyu, feels so good. W-wanna cum for D-daddy. Can I please cum?”
He noticed but the feeling hadn’t settled in your mind yet; tears were rolling down your cheeks. He never admitted it but this expression made you look ethereal. Mingyu loved seeing you cry from being fucked dumb on his dick. How did he get so lucky?
“My pretty princess…of course, fuuuck- today is your special day, you can cum as much as you want. I’ll give it to you all night.”
“Fill me up Gyu, wanna feel it in my tummy.”
His head was spinning; you were his kryptonite. His thrusts became sloppy, preparing for his release. “Want Daddy to fill you with his seed? Make your belly big with his baby?”
You looked at him with teary eyes, nodding frantically. How could he not cum seeing that? He shoved his fat dick deep in you, cumming in spurts as he felt you reach your climax with him. Your body was spasming against his, milking him for every drop. He pulled out slowly to watch his cum drip out. He scooped it up with his fingers and fucked it back into you, your pussy clenching from the sensitivity.
He got out of the bed to fetch a warm cloth to clean off the both of you before pulling you close to him under the blanket. You were already dozing off by the time he got settled but you know he’d be following close behind.
“Gyu?” You continued when he looked down at you with a hum. “Thank you for making today the best day ever.”
He sighed contently and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Anything for my amazing wife.”
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