#...who must be the artist of the family
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bruciemilf · 27 days ago
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Not enough content about Ra’s trying to steal Bruce’s custody from Alfred.
Thinking about Bruce charging through the league after his semi-kind of- it’s complicated father in law kidnapped his youngest again, “Ra’s, I’ll put you in hell even l if I have to make one myself,—“
Ra’s simply dumps a whole ass 200 piece puzzle on the ground and Bruce’s neurodivergent ass gets to work.
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viperra1 · 5 months ago
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i think about young Boone a totally normal amount! ::))))))))))))))
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petz5 · 1 year ago
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hello petz5 nation i am once again on the verge of tears bc of akane tendo
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araneitela · 6 months ago
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Stop, stop, stop. There is only one 'Destiny's Slave' in the boundaries of Honkai: Star Rail, and that is Elio. Whether speaking about Kafka, Blade, Silver Wolf, and Firefly as a collective or as their own individual selves, the Stellaron Hunters are not "Destiny's Slave(s)".
You can call every living entity in HSR a 'slave to destiny' if you so insist, as that is honestly a common perception of destiny in media and in our actual lives, but that does not make it our title. Elio is the only one, the only one, directly referenced (and capitalized accordingly as one would do with a title) as 'Destiny's Slave'. Singular, not plural. Never once is it utilized in plural form, and capitalized like that. So stop taking it from him. Stop giving it out to the others and diminishing what it means for him within the greater narrative of the story.
Here, let me explain the fundamental issue behind taking this from his character, it lays with the burden that he bears. For just a second, imagine being able to see all the ways in which destiny can unfold: you can see the destruction of worlds and of the lives that inhabit them, of which some may be dear to you. You see things that you don't ask to see or may never want to see, but you have to bear it. And then there's the reality that that's the only power you hold, and you are powerless to directly influence it yourself, or stop it from occurring in any way. You know what that makes you? Destiny's Slave. That's one hell of a cruel 'destiny', isn't it; to bear witness, but no more than that?
Seriously, think again before you call Kafka, Blade, Silver Wolf or Firefly 'one of Destiny's Slaves' or 'Destiny's Slave' individually, for it's not what they are. Stop taking something from one character, to then also, quite frankly, mischaracterize the others afterwards.
#[ ooc. ] don't try to make it logical or edit your soul according to the fashion. rather; follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.#[ psa. ] we all think we have infinite possibilities; but every question and answer is constrained by previous choices.#[ salt. ] that breathing sensation? remember it.#[ i just. /i just/. feel SO STRONGLY about this. ]#[ i don't know how so many in this world get this wrong when the game is so point blank obvious about this. ]#[ please by all means-- point me at where 'Destiny's Slave' is every officially used for ANYONE other than elio. ]#[ i must know what feeds this misconception. but it drives me insane. ]#[ sometimes i wonder if i feel this strongly about this because i write kafka and she's noted to be his closest and most trusted. ]#[ and thus likely the one to stand against stuff like this in respect of him. ]#[ ... can i see her /intentionally/ letting someone make a bad assumption about this in game if it works in elio's favor? sure. ]#[ but that's a whole other story. no one has done that though and only the ones not knowledgeable would do so. ]#[ as wanted posters literally are clear on this. ]#[ /shakes the world. ]#[ /shakes the fandom. ]#[ /shakes artists. ]#[ this is how and why fanon sucks actually. ]#[ but it's just. god. don't take from another character who so far-- doesn't even have that much. honestly. ]#[ but also like i once said and will say again: please read. just please read. ]#[ i come back from a family birthday dinner to depart again soon-- and i just. everywhere. ]#[ it's like entering that room on fire and every flame is 'the stellaron hunters are Destiny's Slaves!' ]
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salsflore · 2 years ago
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ummmm
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#oh mika there is beauty in life~ look at your future! everything will be worth it in the end~#my favorite image on this device btw ^#cw negative#cw vent#you know where this is going. apologies my mind is a mess and i really just need to get it out because i find its better than-#-writing a semi formal email to that One (1) emotional support organization and i’m afraid to make a call so#but i just genuinely believe things would be better off if i weren’t alive. a bit of a silly thing to jump to i know but#my tuition fees aren't cheap and i'm not even that great of a student or a daughter or a sister and i-#-have no talents or remarkable feats. i’m not impressive in any way. and i hate hearing shit about how ^_^ its okay! we all have something-#-special about ourselves! for example maybe you have really good hand writing and thats good enough ~ but that doesn't work for me because-#-i have nothing. my handwriting isn't good my singing isn't good i'm not artistically gifted i don't have some random affinity for puzzles-#-i'm not charming or somehow really good at calculation or super creative or a really comforting friend i really have nothing at all#i don’t want to die. i have no plans on doing that sort of thing anytime soon— don’t misunderstand me#i just wholeheartedly believe i don’t deserve to be here anymore not because i’m not loved. i just can’t stand myself and my teenage years-#-feel so long and i'm so fragile how much longer do i have to tolerate. i'm contributing nothing. why should my family have to feed and-#-clothe a burden like me who provides nothing. why should my friends care for someone like me. i’m not really that funny or sweet or great-#-with advice giving or pretty or helpful in any way. why is it that life is genuinely easier for others. what did i do? what can i do?#how much longer must i tolerate this? would you believe me if i said i really did try to change my mindset this time?#i have no one in real life to talk to. therapists are pricey and i don’t think mine was helping me in any way anyways. she was nice though#so every night i sleep hoping i wake up somewhere else. somewhere where i'm happier and i can live all my silly fantasies where i'm a fun-#-and lovely person who has everything she wants and nothing goes wrong ever!!#how much longer must i hang onto the little things. i’m in such an exruciating amount of pain that i want to kill myself without dying? lol#everyone repeats the same stuff. get bit#i can't rely on the joy of having coffee every morning or persevere for the sake of seeing cute cats on insta. nothing will ease the burden
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fan-art-ic · 1 year ago
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#i think the reason ive been sleeping so poorly the last few nights#beyond the swelling and pain and post op recovery#...is i am staring at my ceiling imaginig what if a bomb could through at any moment#not literally but just trying to imagine putting on their shoes#and i am just so filled with worry thinking about how many bombs must be raining down. right this second#injuring and murdering buildings. families. entire lineages. the sheer mass destruction. happening. right now. this second.#not quite below my back on the complete other side of the earth#but a bit closer like if i reached a hand off my bed and my finger pointed#and its not just one genocide being carried out there are multiple! genocides! happening! right now!!!!!!!#NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW RIGHT THIS VERY INSTANT RIGHT NOW#and........the people in power. who with a declaration and some phone calls could. can. impose sanctions. pull money. do something#they. re. fuse. to. it makes me sick with rage#and. back to the sleep thing because i started getting riled up and moving my leg and accidentally disturbed my sleepy cat#(sorry jack❣️)#but i am so sleepless just trying to think of how to be proactive around my hometown. a lot of my ideas involve driving and i cant rn#i dont want to get a facebook. i guess i will if i have to but that seems so tedious and gross. i could try nextdoors? or patch maybe...#ik 100% there would be stuff and people in philly i could find. but i hope theres something a little closer to home#and i mean. my area is a really weird mix between SOLIDLY middle class (i do mean 2 cars and vacations) republicans and VERY middle class#(honestly about the same amount of money) gay ally parents and artists and non conservatives#there HAS to be a way to get them#these people. yknow. im much better at talking to strangers than i was and ive learned that mostly people are kind and a lil dumb!#not like a dumbass but most people honestly are not overthinking all the time about everything somehow!#they just think about whats in front of them. if its not in front of them now. how do i get it in front of them?#shut up mitch#right now might be the weed i dont think high thc is good in an indica for me#i decided to do a picture of jack instead of dot dot dotsss bc looking at him makes me feel better
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timemachineyeah · 1 year ago
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Takarazuka Revue is so funny because it’s like we are a fine upstanding institution of good family values, like homophobia. Please ignore the lesbians making up the majority of people both on stage and in the audience.
Takarazuka Revue is like: we enforce only the strictest gender roles in our troupe as is right and proper, sorting them into the two genders: women who are women, and women who are men. How dare you suggest there’s anything queer about that.
Takarazuka Revue is simultaneously the queerest thing and the least queer thing to ever exist. Takarazuka bucks tradition and is tradition incarnate. Takarazuka is like
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and then is like, “no homo”
and maintains itself as one of the most hierarchical artistic organizations in the world with intense control over its performers. This alternate reality where the talented (and lucky, and connected) few can gain the right to openly perform queerness in the one setting comphet capitalism has carved out for them as long as they follow a different even stricter set of rules for dress and behavior. It dissembles traditional gender by its very existence and so must reinforce it at every turn.
And yet despite being the product of a conservative capitalist railroad owner who only really sought to exploit women for entertainment aimed at men (and their hetero families) that remains loyal to those deeply normative puritanical roots, it was and is also one of the most liberating theater and media experiences of queer Japanese people for decades. You can tell from all the queer art about it, by queer people. By the fact that the audience who flocked to it were not (cis) men.
Trying to untangle the mutual influence of shoujo manga to takarazuka is even more difficult that trying to untangle something like the history of modern Broadway and Disney movies. We wouldn’t have The Little Mermaid without Little Shop of Horrors, but we wouldn’t have Wicked without the Disney renaissance, but we wouldn’t have Frozen without Wicked, and going back further to things like Cinderella and Rogers and Hammerstein and they are intertwined but listen to me. Takarazuka and shoujo manga, especially yuri, are more intertwined. And then so much western media has been inspired by shoujo anime. Rose of Versailles the manga was inspired by Takarazuka and then in turn was adapted into their most famous play which then in turn influenced so many more artworks. Uranus and Neptune are an otokoyaku and musumeyaku. Utena and Anthy (and honestly that whole ass show. The stairs?? C’mon). And all the works and creators THOSE works inspired.
We owe so much to Takarazuka but also if we tried to thank them for their role in queer history they’d be like “we’ve never been queer in our lives!!!!!!!!” and then say a slur to your face while taking your money. Incredible. Wish more people knew what the fuck it was and I could get fansubs.
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skzdarlings · 2 months ago
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the rescue ; skz; aotm!hyunjin x reader
original ask: requested by @tattywood: ❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜ would 100000% fit Hyunjin 🩶 + requested by anonymous: ❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜ with hyunjin? thank you
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pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: artist of the month!hyunjin was inspo here. gangster stuff, reader has been kidnapped and is in a see through nightdress, most violence off page though, bad guy hyunjin who is actually a good guy, arranged marriage, multiple smut scenes, not great communication but gets better lol. smut includes fingering, blow jobs, pussy eating, piv, spanking, light choking, husband/wife kink. word count: 6300 words.
masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.
enjoy! <3
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“I’ve already explained,” you say, equal parts frustrated and exhausted.  “My husband isn’t coming for me.” 
The gangster cronies still don’t seem to understand.  You are tied to a chair in their basement (because they are preposterously corny goons, tying you up like a comically silly damsel in a ridiculous film) while they berate you for your husband’s tardiness.    
You have tried explaining, over and over, that Hyunjin is not coming, but they won’t accept that answer.  The fools try in vain to reach him again, but his line leads straight to a dial tone. 
He went radio silent after the initial video contact, when your captors demanded a price for your healthy return. 
Hyunjin was quiet on the call.  Your husband is a quiet man in general, though he knows how to use his charms and work a room, and he has certainly perfected the art of severe intimidation.  When your marriage was arranged, one mob family to the other, you mistakenly assumed you were marrying a monster. 
Hyunjin is very reserved when not conducting business.  He doesn’t engage in any of the more debauched sides of the business, unlike the men in your family.  Evenings at home are silent and still, the penthouse view of the glittering cityscape the only real bustle. 
Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised you.  When he took over his family’s business, Hyunjin altered a lot of their practices, cutting the crueler sectors, opting for illicit crimes of more practical varieties. 
The country is in a political chokehold, government affairs conducted none too differently from the criminal underworld.  The cops are all dirty, the politicians corrupt, the wealthy depraved.  Hyunjin has taken it upon himself to alleviate the pressure suffered by the regular people, the civilians who truly pay the price of a broken system.
In a world with no good guys, sometimes only villains can be heroes.    
You think of his face now, how he certainly looked the part of a villain on the video call.  Hyunjin has a very austere demeanour, exacerbated by his severe appearance: sharp marble features and dark, vicious eyes often further darkened with heavy lining, sleek black hair, scattered scars and tattoos, and the sort of regard that judges at a glance.  He is young, but he has the air of a man who has already traversed the universe and found it wanting.       
You think of his face now, the silent perusal he gave your bound body on that video call.  You are dressed in your favourite nightgown, your underthings partially visible through the light material, but it was not willingly donned.   At the time of your kidnapping, you were attired appropriately for the wealthy wife of a famous gangster.  You were returning from a family visit when your captors intercepted you in transit from the airport. 
Either to intimidate or threaten or just because they could, they made you remove all your jewelry and fine clothes.  They rifled through your luggage and demanded you change into the nightgown. 
Hyunjin recognized the nightdress, realized you must have been stripped, and likely inferred the very worst. 
“Address,” was the only word Hyunjin said.   He ended the call seconds later.    
“Oh, he’ll come,” your captor says.  He points at you with a hand that feels more threatening than a knife.  It makes your terrified heart leap into your throat.  “Or else.” 
“He won’t, though!” you exclaim.  “You’re wasting your time!”
They are not listening.  They leave the basement, slamming the door behind them.
You huff and settle back in your bonds. 
It is only a matter of time before they realize you are telling the truth.  Hyunjin will not waste the money or resources to rescue you.  He has always been respectful of the marriage arrangement, but your husband is not sentimental.  There is a professional distance between you.  His decision will be based in the logic of all his strategies: nothing personal, just a matter of business. 
You sometimes see a different side of him, something buried under that quiet intensity.  He collects fine art and spends hours poring over his favourite pieces, listening to music, losing himself to artistic fantasies.  He always comes back, but you know there are other worlds in his mind. 
Every attempt to bridge the gap has been gently rebuffed, but there have been moments when your husband seems curious about you.  You often catch him staring.  He gets a wistful look that softens his face, even with that shield of make-up.  His eyes are gentle when you talk about your passions.  You never let his quietude deter your friendly penchant for chatter.   He seems more than content to listen.  He remembers everything too. 
You know he finds you attractive, if nothing else.  He has caved on that front several times over, though not right away.  He didn’t touch you on the wedding night, nor the honeymoon.  He left your beach holiday early to return to business, leaving you in a villa with security and his credit card.  It was the first time you realized the material world was no replacement for true companionship.  You missed his dark eyes.
Your family also had expectations.  There would be consequences if the marriage fell through.  You would be blamed, not him.  Worried he would renege on the nuptials, you did everything to try and seduce him. 
He politely rejected you at every turn. 
Just when you were resigned, he arrived home after a job.  It was almost three in the morning when he entered the penthouse.  You have separate bedrooms but they share a connecting bathroom.  You could hear him cursing above the running water. 
You only meant to peek.  The sliding door on your side was partially ajar so you tip-toed over. 
Hyunjin was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, pressing a rag to his wounded shoulder.  There was a mess of blood streaked down his back, making you gasp at the terrible mosaic of pain, his body littered with violent scars. 
That gasp contained multitudes, for the horror, for his beauty.  His dark eyes were as severely lined as ever, expression intense as he breathed hard through the pain.  Smooth black hair fell across his face when he tipped his head. 
He froze at the sound of your gasp.  His turn was very slow, eyes peeking through the curtain of his short hair.  They captured yours.   
You held your breath. 
Eventually, he straightened, flicking his hair out of his face.  He looked in the mirror and sighed.    
“You can come in,” he said.   “This is your home too.” 
You slid the door open, just enough to squeeze through.  Your attention was utterly transfixed on his bleeding shoulder.  You could see the wound was a thin stripe.  It was not deep so stitches were not necessary, but it was slightly out of his reach as it sloped towards his back.
“Oh, Hyunjin,” you said, thoughtlessly taking the rag right out of his hands.    
In spite of the violence that raised you, or maybe because of it, you can’t stand to see suffering.   You and Hyunjin have had that in common from the start.  You were quick to help him clean the wound, wordlessly wiping all the blood then applying cream across the clotted cut. 
He flinched when the stinging cream made contact.  You went to apologize but your words evaporated when your eyes met through the mirror.  You were surprised to find him already looking at you, that expressive gaze as thoughtful as ever. 
“How did this happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, eyes rivetted to his reflection.   “You – you have people to protect you.”  You managed to rip your gaze away, looking at your task, feeling hot in the face. 
“I do,” he said.  “But I’d never ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do myself.” 
This did not surprise you to hear.   It is obvious that Hyunjin cares very deeply about the wellbeing of other people.  It is a fact known to few.  It aggravates you at times, but his reputation does not seem to bother him.  He would rather people think him a monster while he secretly does good rather than be praised in public while cruel in private. 
You have never known another man like him.  Looking at that scar that night, the realization truly struck you. 
Your fingers began to tremble where they brushed his bare skin, your eyes widening as you looked at the scar and many others.  If something happened to him, what would become of you?  Certainly, as his widow, you would be financially sound, but what did that matter?  This world would lose something irreplaceable if it lost Hwang Hyunjin.  This penthouse could be brimming with silver and gold and it would be empty, worthless. 
Tears in your eyes, you succumbed to desire, kissing him very gently on his hurt shoulder. 
“Hyunjin,” you said, your eyes closed, lips grazing his skin as you spoke.  “Please make sure you always come home, okay?” 
He did not answer at first.  When you lifted your eyes and looked in the mirror, those dark eyes were so enflamed that you were surprised nothing caught fire. 
“Hyunjin?” you said softly.   
“You mean that,” he said, not quite a question, more like a realization. 
“Of course,” you replied. You looked at his scarred back again, let your fingertips brush down the length of his spine.  It made him stand a little straighter.  “Have you ever known me to lie?” you asked. 
He finally turned around, looking at you with an long-engrained wariness, but also a hunger.  He was a starving man presented with a banquet, but one who did not easily trust when sitting at someone else’s table. 
“You’re a smart woman,” he said.  “I know that.  And I know that you’re – good.” 
Good was an exhale, like the word was too heavy for his tongue.  You realized that his wariness was less suspicion for you than hesitation regarding himself.  He was only starving because he though himself undeserving of the meal he wanted. 
“You’ve seen – and done – many bad things tonight, haven’t you?” you asked. 
Having the full force of his gaze was overwhelmingly heady.  You remember how it made your heart race like you were being chased, your breath catching over and over until you were almost panting. 
Arousal struck quickly, a sensation like you never experienced before.  You thought you understood attraction, but not until that moment when he released a breath, so close to your face, and you became truly aware of his proximity.   Of him, of all that he was, all that he did.  His character, his hidden depths.
Your husband. 
It made your racing heart thunder something fierce, your blood pumping hotly, throbbing places you did not know were so sensitive. 
You desperately wondered what was on his mind.  The gears in his head were spinning and whirring, delaying his response.  Was he feeling the same tension?  Were his thoughts the same realization?
 My wife.  
“Yes,” he finally said. 
“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.
His tattooed hand cupped your head, tilting it just so.  It made your lips part with a gasp, eyelids heavy with anticipation for a kiss. 
He took his time looking at you, like he was scrubbing all those bad memories away, replacing them with the flustered look on his aroused wife’s face. 
“Yes,” he said again, and kissed you for the first time. 
You were so glad he rebuffed your previous half-hearted advances, clumsy seductions made out of obligation rather than desire.  It was so different to that kiss.  You would not have known how to even ask for a kiss like that.  You never knew what you were missing. 
Your quiet husband and his multitudes.  All that simmering intensity, hot just below the surface of his icy demeanour, burned right through his skin.  His kiss was ravishing, entirely possessive, like he wished to take your whole essence into him and hold it forever. 
He walked you backwards.  With a snap of his wrist, he slid the door open the rest of the way, so sharp that it tried to bounce back.  He continued onward, kissing you until you were dizzy with it.   
He picked you up just to put you on the bed himself.  Your kiss separated only then as you landed with a bounce and a breath. 
He loomed over the edge of the bed, this man who was both stranger and husband, hero and villain.   He looked at you like he already loved you.  He looked at you and saw the reciprocation.  You had fallen for him without realizing you had ever even stumbled. 
He ran his hands through his hair, the sleek black locks fluttering back into place.  His eyes were still rivetted to your face, to your body.  You were wearing the nightdress you are wearing now.  It is why it became your favourite. 
He looked down at you, the material translucent enough to see the details of your body.   It broke through that last layer of ice.  He surrendered with a choked breath. 
He unclasped a holster on his thigh, dropped a knife that was hidden in a pocket.   Once unarmed, his hands went to his belt.  You watched those nimble, efficient fingers, swallowing hard.   You were aching to an embarrassing degree, undoubtedly obvious in your desires.  No one ever warned you it would feel like this, just being looked at, never mind touched.
Then his belt was on the floor and he touchedyou for real.   His calloused hands moved up your thighs, pushing the nightdress up and out of his way.  He climbed on top of you, swift as a feline, mouth descending onto yours with that same desperate hunger as before. 
Recollection makes you crave another kiss.   You think you will always be starving for more. 
“Hyunjin,” you whispered, hands on his face, his shoulders, down to his chest. 
He took your hands and laced your fingers with his, pinning those hands to the bed.   He kissed you again, long and slow.  It was all more sensual than desperate.
His voice, however, was desperate when he begged, “Let me make you feel good, please.”  He kissed down your face, your jaw, your throat.  “Please, my wife.”  He kissed further down still, through your nightdress, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue, wetting the material and awakening every nerve beneath it.   “My wife,” he repeated. 
“My husband.”  The words left your lips in a dizzy, delirious whisper.   
It was all the confirmation he needed.  Those deft and skilled hands, so quick to assemble weapons and pull triggers, applied themselves with a startling gentleness.  He took you apart and put you together with the same efficient ease.   
He hooked his fingers in the only material between him and his desire, tugged it out of his way.  His fingers went to you, slipping through all that wetness.  Those intense eyes rolled back even though it was just his fingers inside you, then he closed his eyes like it was too much, and it seemed he had to temper himself, murmuring nonsense as he let his fingers sink into you. 
He kissed you again, drinking down every sigh and gasp and moan while he fucked you with his long fingers.  It was like he could taste your pleasure, like he was trying to get drunk on it, every noise you made filling his mouth.  He gave them back and brought you over a peak, first with his hands, then with his mouth.  He laid between your legs and put your thighs around his head, losing himself entirely in you. 
He did not remove a single article of your clothing nor his pants, not that first time.  He simply held the material to the side as he unzipped and finally got inside you.  It made your whole body keen, coming to life like it never had before.  You forgot all your sensibilities and let every wanton sound and action loose.
He responded in kind.  His kiss tasted like your pleasure, his heart pounding as fast as yours where your chests pressed together.  You were careful near his injured shoulder, fingertips dodging scars.  Your soft touch made him whimper, this powerful man entirely undone by a few caresses. 
His skin was hot and he worked up a sweat, but his stamina seemed endless.  He always wanted more. 
You fell asleep tucked in his arms, content to believe the walls had crumbled.   However, they revealed themselves in the morning light, as concrete as ever.  He slipped away and left a note to excuse his absence as he was called away to business.   You thought about phoning or messaging him, but those lines were not always secure, not for such intimate conversations. 
When he returned a few days later, he hid behind those concrete walls, but too much had changed.  There was now an awareness of your proximity and your distance.  The lack of intimacy was not called into question before, the absence of something being a nothing.  But now that nothing was something, or had been something for a moment, and it made you both very aware of how it was now missing – and anticipating always when it might again appear.
He tried very hard to keep away, to stay cordial at best, his habitual quietude even heavier than before.  But while his silence was significant, so was his glance.  Every time you turned around, he was already looking at you, a longing in his eyes and a thought on his lips that he never dared to speak aloud. 
You granted him some distance for a time.  When it became abundantly obvious he was holding himself in check, you realized that your own vulnerability was required to bridge the gap. 
One night you crossed through the bathroom, slid open the door on his side.  You found him at his desk, dressed down in a white dress shirt and pants.  His blazer was discarded on the floor, his face still made up. 
He stood quickly when you entered, though he didn’t say anything. 
It was strange to imagine this man would need any reassurance, but you felt that was the case.   His fingers fidgeted at his sides, his roving eyes studious.
You said nothing.  You approached him, laid your hands on his chest, and gently guided him back into his chair.  He sat slowly, his eyes on your face the entire time, even when he had to tip his head back to peer up at you. 
You ran your fingers through his hair.  When you entered the room, his face was tightly screwed in an expression of aggravation, but all those harsh lines softened as you traced a thumb down the sharp slope of his cheek. 
There were some wipes on his desk.  You took one and began to carefully remove that shield of dark make-up.  His hand lifted but not to stop you, simply to rest his palm on your waist.  He began to really touch you, feeling the shape of your body through your robe as you helped him come back to himself. 
“Hello,” you finally said, looking at his bare face.  Still impossibly beautiful.
“Hello,” he replied. 
His fingertips dipped towards the hem of the robe.  Before he could distract you with your own pleasure, you sunk to your knees in front of him.  This startled him, his hand frozen in the air as you fit yourself between his open knees. 
He caught your hand, his reflexes fast, before it could reach his fly.   You could see he was already affected, a heavy bulge in the black material making your mouth water and core tighten. 
He squeezed your hand and you looked up at his face.   He tipped his head, blinked rapidly, an expression of mild confusion.
You took your hand back and unknotted your robe.  The silk fell from your shoulders and down, sliding like water right off your body.  You were completedly naked underneath. 
It clarified everything, his confusion gone, replaced with surprise.
“You—” he began.  It was interrupted when you put your head in his lap, resting on his thigh.  You led his hand to the back of your neck and kissed him through his pants.  It made his fingers clasp tighter around you.  
“Please,” you said. 
He would never deny you anything.  Not the smallest gift nor grandest gesture.  When you started a new charity to further your combined philanthropic efforts, he spared no expense in aiding the endeavour.  You shared passions, and now you shared this.
He was stiff at the start, but gradually let himself go lax in his seat.  His hand kept a steady grip on the back of your neck, not guiding but holding, like he thought you might disappear otherwise.  He murmured your name, letting his head fall back as you worked him in your mouth. 
You intended to make him finish like that, seeking nothing for yourself at that precise moment.  He had other ideas, needing more of your shared pleasure to take him over that brink. 
He lifted your face, adjusted his pants, and was on his feet in a matter of seconds.  That hand on your neck dragged you up, up, up until your naked body was pressed against his clothed one.  He clung to you needily, claiming your mouth in a wanting kiss. 
His hands moved over you, every new inch of skin making him moan as he walked you towards the bed.  The kiss only broke when you both sat down, his lips against yours as he breathed, almost smiling, “My pretty wife.”
“Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head, feeling suddenly shy just because of a simple compliment. 
He did not allow you to curl into yourself with any shame.  When you tried, he seized you, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled it.   His eyes moved up and down your body, hands following, from your thighs to hips to waist and up. 
 “What are you doing?” you said, laughing helplessly when he kissed somewhere ticklish on your throat.  The sound made him smile, even softer than before, though it turned a little wicked as his mouth went lower. 
“I’m simply enjoying the view,” he said, then wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your breast, ran his tongue up and over.  He licked and kissed back up to your mouth.   “It’s not everyday I get to fuck someone so pretty.” 
As he said this, he opened his pants again, eyes on yours as he grabbed your thighs and moved you so he could thrust up into you.  His hips moved with a slow roll, letting you adjust to him.  It had been a little while, and this angle was different.
And Hyunjin is not small.  Your husband is built in perfect proportion, his body a long, hard, slender build – everything inside you at that moment was no exception.   This angle made you whimper, clinging to him like  he was a life preserver in a storm.  The roll of his hips kept coming like waves and you were sure you would drown otherwise. 
Your arms were around his neck, his graceful but strong hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he fucked you.  He felt impossibly deep, every upward stroke feeling like it was bursting past something, pushing everything inside your body up to your throat. 
You swallowed again and again, the taste of him still on your lips, the feel of him inside every inch of you.  You clenched and tightened involuntarily, just pure animal reaction, and it made him moan and find all those sweet spots to make it happen again.    
“Help,” was your somewhat nonsensical request, blurted in the midst of some moaning babbling.
Fortunately, he was and is a smart man.  He understood.  He clasped you tight to his body and fell back on the bed, thrusting up into you with sharper, more focussed determination, faster until you were weeping on his chest, delirious with pleasure.  His shirt was unbuttoned and you accidentally ripped a few buttons right off, trying to press your face to bare skin. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” you said as you tumbled over a height you never reached before.  You never knew you could come just from that, stimulated somewhere so deep inside you, but it made you come undone in his arms. 
He watched you unravel and it made him follow, clinging to you as he just barely pulled out before coming between your dripping thighs.  It was all so messy and wet, your legs trembling, but it felt so good that it hardly mattered. 
He caught his breath, then looked at your face just lose that breath again.  He moaned and dragged you in for another kiss.
Then you were on your back, the night far from over. 
That second night is the one that truly opened the door to more.  Though your husband can be reticent in other regards, he is not quiet when he is inside you.  You have come together again and again, a conversation with your bodies as you look for pleasure in a dangerous world.   You always find it, tucked in the protective circle of his arms, wrapped around every inch of him. 
You have been out of his arms for too long.  Your visit to your family grew tedious before long.  Your home is with Hyunjin now and you were eager to return. 
Now it seems you may never see it again.  You may never see him again. 
No.
Just like the night when you took control for yourself, you must take control now.  You realize if anything is to happen, then you must take the reins of your own rescue.  You would not want Hyunjin to compromise himself or his important business.  You know if something bad happened to you, it would weigh on his conscious, even if it was the better business decision.  You must eliminate the need for choice. 
It turns out, comical rope bindings are truly best suited for silly movies.  When the men come to check on you again, you have slipped free of your bindings.  There was an array of weapons in the room, so carelessly disposed because the assailants never assumed you would get free – or, if you did get free, that you would not know how to use them. 
It is true, you do not like violence. 
That does not mean you do not understand it. 
You leave the two men unconscious in their basement.  Unfortunately, you cannot find your suitcase and you do not want to hang around, so you venture outside in your nightgown.  You are debating your next move when a car pulls into the driveway. 
You back away quickly, raising the gun you stole as more men get out of the vehicle.  You only stay your hand because you recognize one of them, though it takes a second to place him as one of Hyunjin’s lieutenants. 
Then Hyunjin emerges.   You have seen your husband before and after a confrontation, but never during it.  If you thought he was an intimidating figure in the aftermath, he is all danger and darkness as he storms up the driveway now.   There is such an energy radiating from him, it makes you stumble and forget yourself entirely. 
Then he stumbles, recognizing you.  You are both startled, staring at each other with the gun raised between you. 
He looks nowhere but your eyes. 
“Hyunjin?” you finally say. 
“I—”  He looks at you, the gun, the nightdress.  He shakes his head.  Some of that bravado returns when he says, “I’m here to save you.”
“Ah,” you say.  You slowly lower the gun, at a loss how to reply.  You were so resigned to the idea this was all still business.  The reality of your husband risking himself to rescue you from unknown hostiles is making your heart pound.  
In the end, all you can think to say is, “Sorry.  You’re late.” 
That wicked smile crosses his face, his tongue pushing at the corner of his mouth.  He is suddenly nothing but amused, looking at you, then at the house.
“I can see that,” he says. 
He whistles sharply and gestures to the house with a gloved hand.  His lieutenants run past you and charge the door, no doubt heading inside to finish the job you started.        
You turn to watch them go.  In your distraction, Hyunjin grabs your arm.  He is fast, effectively disarming you.  He catches the gun with a twirl before tossing it aside.
It is not the gun he wants; it’s you.
Still holding your wrist, he tugs you into him.  You throw your arms around him.  The hug is surprisingly chaste, his face in your neck as he squeezes you like it is the only thing keeping him alive and standing.
“Are you hurt?” he asks. 
When in his arms, it seems impossible to consider you could ever feel any pain. 
You shake your head, daring to kiss his cheek.  He turns his face to yours, your lips close enough to brush in a swipe. 
“I’m all right now,” you say.  “Sorry I beat you to the punch.  I – I wasn’t sure if—”
His brow crinkles.  That gloved hand goes from your wrist to your chin, seizing it between thumb and forefinger.  He tips your head so he can look at your face.  He always regards you like he does one of his masterpieces, like he can never get his fill, like there is always something new to find.  He is enchanted every time. 
“You’re mine,” he says.  “And I take care of what belongs to me.” 
You gasp when those fingers go from your chin to your throat, just enough to pull you in that last breath of a space.  He kisses you there in the sunlight, utterly shameless. 
“Do not ever doubt that,” he says.  His eyes are soft with his affection, but his voice is hard, skirting the edge of a threat he would issue an adversary.  It makes you tingle from head to toe.  “Do I need to remind you?” 
You never actually answer.  You are not sure if your answer would have made a difference, as Hyunjin is determined to show you the very second you are home. 
You reach the penthouse. There is no time to shower or decompress once you cross the threshhold.  He sweeps you off your feet, your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist.  You are wearing his blazer over your nightdress to preserve your modesty – not that it will last long.
He carries you to the bedroom where so many slow and subtle exchanges took place.  Now, he is not slow or subtle.  He is a force of nature.   He tells you that he held no greater fear than losing you and he tried to keep his distance, but he regretted it the moment he saw you on that video call. 
“You’re my wife,” he says, peeling his blazer off your body.  “I’m your husband.  There is nothing I should be holding back.” 
“Yes,” you say, running your fingers through that smooth black hair.  You shiver as he bunches the fabric of your nightdress, the material spilling over his fingers.   “Don’t hold back,” you say, mouth open against his, stealing his every breath.   “Do whatever you want.” 
He tells you exactly what he wants, using his words for a change, finally letting those walls come down.  He whispers every filthy thought into your ear, between kisses, between bites.   You shiver at every suggestion. 
And so, moments later, he is sitting on your bed.  He arranges you to lay across his lap, facedown in the pillows while he runs his hands down your spine and over the curve of your ass. 
“You’re my wife,” he says.  The first tap of his open palm is through the thin material of your nightdress.  It is truly just a warning tap, just enough to make you bounce.  “Don’t ever doubt me again,” he says, swinging that strong hand a little harder.  
This time a yelp escapes your lips.  You wriggle until he pins you down, a hand on the back of your neck and the other lifting your dress.   He already stripped your underthings, his open palm smoothing down all that bare skin.  
You tingle with anticipation, braced yet still unprepared for the sharp smack he next delivers.  You feel it tingle all the way up to your head, as well as the next one, and the next.   You squirm under his firm grip, groaning his name as your thighs get tense and press together. 
“Don’t say my name,” he says, and smacks you again.  “Who am I?”
“M-my husband,” you say, practically mewling like a kitten when he next brings his hand down.  “My husband,” you say again. 
“And you are—”
“Your wife,” you say, though it comes out almost like a sob, a desperate gasp as he slips his fingers between your thighs and finds a new way to torture you.   With your backside hot and stinging, the pleasure of his hand in that sensitive place feels amplified by a tenfold. 
“Husband,” you say, hips bucking.  His free hand goes from the back of your neck to your lower spine, holding you in his lap as he slowly finger-fucks you.
“Yes?” he says.
You do not even remember what you were going to say, or beg, or plead.  You are overcome with sensation, tingling all over, intensifying the press of his fingers as he curls his fingers into that soft, soft place.  Then you are really squirming, helplessly, instinctively, whining into the pillows. 
“I make you feel good,” he says.  “I take care of you.  You, who are so good, and so smart, but so—”
You cry out when he angles his hand just a little differently.  Your vision swims with stars as he speeds up. 
“So soft,” he says, his own voice going soft, just a whisper as he makes you come all over his hand in a throbbing, aching, desperate wet mess.  “Just for me,” he says in that whisper.  “Just for your husband.” 
“Mmmf,” is all the response you have left in you. 
Your thighs are trembling and your pussy throbbing with aftershocks when he picks you up.  He stands and turns, laying you on your side in the bed.  You are grateful, as your backside still stings, though you suspect he is not done yet.
He strips out of his clothes, tearing through his shirt, leaving the pants in a heap.  He forgets to remove his necklace.  All that silver is cold against your hot skin as he lays down behind you.   You do not have time to linger on it, as he gathers up the hem of your dress and adjusts himself behind you. 
He has taken you many times, in many ways, many positions.   When you are on your hands and knees, he is overtaken by a primal urge, your hips as leverage in his hands as he pounds into you like it is a chase.   When you are on your back, he sinks into you slowly and deeply, rocking his hips into yours like he intends to fuck you forever.  When you are in his lap, he rolls his hips in steady, needy waves, captivated by the sight of you in his arms. 
He lays behind you now and wraps his arms around you, coaxes your thighs apart.  Your nightdress is bunched every which way, leaving nothing to the imagination, and you feel especially exposed and vulnerable in this position somehow.  Perhaps it is the fact he is the one holding you open, keeping you in position so he can take you.
You let yourself fall into it, fall into him.  You let him tell you, with words and actions, exactly how he feels. 
Before it ends, you change position.  He lays back and you straddle his hips while stripping off your dress entirely.  He keeps rolling up into you, only stopping when you plant your hands on his chest to slow him down.  Then he practically sinks in the mattress, murmuring your name.  His make-up is smudged, his calloused hands rough on your body.  Whatever pains you experienced have been overtaken by his hands, by the smarting on your backside, still tender as you bring your body down onto his again and again.  He has completely claimed you for himself and you take the same in turn. 
“Hyunjin,” you say.  “My husband, oh—”
He kisses your hand, long and hard, like he needs his mouth on some part of you desperately.  Your fingers are curled into his pretty mouth when he comes, his hands on your hips and his cock buried inside you. 
“Oh,” is your final sound before you slump on top of him, skin to skin. 
He rolls you onto your side, though he keeps you wrapped around him, his arms around you in turn.  His hair is already a sweaty mess and you rub your thumb through some of his shadowy make-up, but those familiar dark eyes are gazing at you with so much warmth.   There is no more ice, no more cold concrete. 
“I should let you rescue me more often,” you say with a laugh. 
He doesn’t laugh back, but he does smile softly.  It should be incongruous with his severe appearance, but it somehow comes together, layers of him exposed all at once as he strokes your cheek.
He looks at you like his favourite work of art. 
“You were the one who rescued you,” he says.   “Just like you rescued me.” 
You cannot find the words to reply, so you kiss him.  It speaks volumes, and he replies, kissing back. 
You lose yourself to the sweetness, to the heat, to the passion, to all those things more, knowing there are many more to come with this man as your husband. 
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northern-passage · 6 months ago
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Interactive Fiction Community Raffle for Palestine!
Over 50 authors and artists from the Interactive Fiction community here on tumblr have come together to offer an array of prizes for a focused donation drive! We are aiming to raise as much money as possible for five families who are currently trying to evacuate Gaza. These fundraisers have been vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi (thank you for your hard work!)
RULES:
You MUST donate a minimum of €5/$5 USD to one of these five fundraisers to qualify for a ticket. These are the currencies the GFMs are in (3 in euro, 2 in USD). We chose this amount because it is the minimum GFM allows and we are hoping to encourage as many donations as possible. Please be mindful that GFM does not show the conversion rate if you're donating outside your currency.
Donating once to all five GFMs will get you five tickets. And for each extra 5 you donate, you will get an extra ticket. (ie donating 10 to one GFM gets you 2 tickets, 15 gets you 3, etc.)
There are two tiers we will be pulling prizes from: one tier for writing, and one tier for art. When you submit your proof of donation, you will be asked to specify which tier you want your ticket to go towards. If you are submitting for more than one ticket, you will specify the tiers for each ticket-- you can spread them out between both tiers or put them all towards one.
You will be required to share a receipt/proof of donation via uploading a picture through google forms. We will not be handling any money. You are donating directly to the GFMs, and then showing us proof that you have done so. Please include the GFM and the amount you've donated in the screenshot you upload. We are only taking donations starting from June 7th onward.
We plan to raffle off all possible prizes using a random generator. Once the drive concludes on the 21st, we'll take a few days to gather up & organize the tickets and draw names, and then we will be in touch with winners both on tumblr and via email.
You can find the full list of contributors and prizes here.
Please understand that these prizes are pulled blind and assigned at random. You cannot pick or choose which writer/IF or artist you get. It is completely randomized. You get what you get-- even if you aren't familiar with the writer or their game. Artists and authors also have the right to refuse your request at their discretion. Please be respectful and remember that our main goal and focus here is fundraising for these families.
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Abdullah Mohammed and his family
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Mohammed Bardaweel and his family
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Bilal Salah's family
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Suad and her family
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Firas Salem and his family
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We encourage you to share these families and their fundraisers here and elsewhere. We're hoping by focusing our efforts we can really make a big impact for all of them.
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Ticket submission form:
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salemlunaa · 2 months ago
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Use your senses to shift consciousness ꨄ
what would it all feel like?
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I got an ask recently on someone who was unsure what to do to shift, and unlike the typical, visualise and affirm, I will ask you to accept yourself in your new reality/desired reality/ whatever you may call it. And to do that you must shift your senses and I mean really shift your senses, close your eyes and sense that you are now in your new reality, how would you feel? think of the little things
is there a window right infront of your bed that lets the natural light shine onto your eyelids?
do you have a crazy amount of siblings that you can hear all the time in the morning?
is your s/o in there bed, can you hear their little grunts as they sleep? do they wrap you in their arms to wake you up, how would it be normally?
is your mother waking you up for school, how does her voice sound sound, how do her hands feel tapping you lightly to wake up?
are you a famous artist? are your songs softly playing on the speaker in your room as you wake up?
are you a celebrity, a billionaire, an actor, a model? is your assistant waking you up for another busy day of press?
do you live somewhere with beautiful scenery, are the birds chirping as you wake up? or is it night time and the sound of the city, the cars, the people are right outside your window?
how does it feel to be in that new body? feel that you are in that body, how does your skin feel? how does your hair feel?
do you have a private chef that makes you and your family breakfast in the morning? what are they making? can you smell it?
do you have certain ambient lighting in your room, eg, leds, sunset lamps, what colour are they shining on your eyelids as you stir in bed?
are you a billionaire’s child who only sleeps on cashmere sheets? feel it on your body
what clothes (if any) do you wear to bed? feel them on your body
what’s the first thing you see when you wake up? visualise, or is it night as you wake up, what does that look like where you are?
How much happier and more motivated would you be to start the day knowing you have everything and you are living the dream? feel it in you
details details details people!! use the details in your script if you have one, this is how it becomes natural to you 👏👏
feel it, hear it, see it, smell it, taste it
These little and natural details are so important, you guys see your reality as so far fetched, so you don’t even acknowledge or consider how your senses would change. When you shift reality you shift awareness which means shifting your conscious sensations to the reality that is desired. This isn’t some cute exercise (although it can be) this IS shifting, take your senses and put the in the desired state and that is how you shift, that is how your awareness leaves this reality to go to another.
You are a god, so place yourself and your senses in a new reality and you are there. You need to make your reality natural to you and that starts with immersing yourself in the new story
Place your senses in that of who you want to be, and you will shift with ease 🐋💋
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plainandgeneric · 4 months ago
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Quick AU idea: Omen twins in mimic veils. More on the AU below the cut:
Vary rarely, during royal celebrations, those invited may spot the strange appearances of two veiled men. One dressed in plain white robes and the other swathed in dark silk, trailing after his companion like a shade. The two would speak only to Godwyn, and avoided all else who approached.  Speculations on their identities were whispered amongst the highborns. Maybe they were distant relatives to the royal family, diluted scions generations removed, or perhaps they were bastards secreted away. Nonetheless, anyone to be amongst Godwyn's inner circle must be significant to some degree. If one could get close enough, they would be able to catch a glimpse of their visage under the translucent veil - breathtakingly beautiful faces with faintly golden eyes… Curious indeed. 
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Taking a LOT of artistic liberty with how mimic veils work/look lol. Just thought it'd be angsty to juxtapose their disguises with their real selves. Morgott cherishes the opportunity to feel "normal". Mohg thinks the whole thing to be an incredibly cruel and ironic charade.
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kaivenom · 6 months ago
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How would Benedict Bridgerton court you... HCS
Masterlist
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You both first crossed glances at a ball, you were not a debutant, just passing around, just like his sister Eloise, you weren't much interested on claiming attention, but you catched his.
His first thought when he saw you in the back of the salon, tapping your feet to the rythm of the song while looking at a big painting was that he needed to paint you.
He spent the rest of the night, admiring you from the distance, until you both almost bumped into each other.
Inmediatly he took the chance and asked you to dance.
It was the funniest night you both had, cause after the dance, you talked about art, and drinked, and danced again, all night until your mother decided it was time to leave.
After that night, you didn't heard from him in a couple of weeks, you almost thought he forgot about you.
The thing was that he was collecting information about you, everything he could find that he knew you would like.
Then a bouquet of your favourite flowers came to your door, signed by the name of "Your artist", you knew it was him, but he surely wants to be romantic so you let him be.
A couple of days later, your favourite crystals, and then gems, and fabrics, and art supplies.
With this routine of secretism, a couple of months passed by with his gifts demostrating that he knows you.
You saw each other a couple more times during balls and dances, until you decided to approach him again.
"Why do you sent me notes but not talk to me?"
"I want you to see that i can know you better than anyone, plus i want you to be as crazy in love for me as i am for you."
A smile escaped both of your lips, suddently you had an idea.
You dropped your fan carefully and he inmediatly get down to pick it up.
"So... that's how you like to play then." he told you with a smirk.
"You said you wanted me to get crazy about you, who says i can't play that game too?"
"Then we both must play."
The once innocent game of knowing each other turned into a rollercoaster of temptation.
Small touches while dancing, innapropiate comments while talking in public, purposely moving to the corner of the room to have more privacy with your not so discreet behaviour.
(I firmly believe that Benedict is a switch with a very brat behaviour, so picture that)
Until your mother decided that you were going to marry a noble.
Thats when the game stopped and started to get serious.
Benedict distanced himself from you and you got so sad from the lonelyness that awaited your future that you wouldn't leave your room.
Your mother didn't let you alone in any social act, that means that you can't talk to him... ike that could make a change.
One week until the wedding and everything feels bad when suddently you received a bouquet of your favourite flowers with a note.
"I will not cut you like this flowers, but i will keep you to myself no matter how, with love Your Artist.
You almost broke in tears right there, your mother entered the room with your future husband to finish some business.
They didn't even care to ask you what happened, the just talked about your future like nothing.
One of the servants announced Benedict and everyone on the room turned around.
"I am here to propose."
"Too late, she is my fiancee." you couldn't believe what was happening.
"I double the endowment, my mother and brother approved it."
You know your mother will marry you to the best match she could find, which means the one who could provide more money.
After verifying everything was right, your mother inmediatly sent out your now ex-fiancee and welcomed with open arms your new husband.
"How?" you asked him, still processing.
"I intended to send you that flowers yesterday, i don't know why they got today." he sounded more concerned about his time planning that your tear, "Oh, you mean all the other things, sorry for ignoring you, once you got engaged my family forced me to separate myself to not staint your virtue... so i was convincing them to let me marry you."
"I..." you kissed him on the lips with passion, with all the emotions you've been keeping inside.
"I think we should wait to the weeding night, in a week." your eyes opened surprised while he justs smirks, "I didn't want any longer to kall you mine, so i managed to get a wedding licency too."
"I love you."
"I know, and i love you too."
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fy-wonwoo · 28 days ago
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[IG] 241028 wonwoo left a comment on seungkwan’s post:
I no longer want to see my loved ones getting hurt. After observing everything that has happened, I’ve tried to suppress my feelings, thinking it would eventually pass. But now, I realize I can’t just watch these situations unfold silently for my fans, my members, and my fellow artists who are working hard.
Being an entertainer is a choice I made, and while I understand that I must endure some pain due to the love I receive, I don’t believe this profession should involve self-destruction. I want to do my best in my work and give back to the fans who support me, sharing the positive energy I can. The pressures and burdens I feel are immense, affecting both my body and mind.
Despite this, we must keep pushing forward. Some look at things rationally, others try to smile through the pain, and some are just enduring as best as they can. I accepted this responsibility when I chose this path, yet today feels particularly harsh and unfair.
Just as some days are bright and others are cloudy, today feels overcast for me. I wonder if I have ever truly tried to stay positive or smile through tough times. Today is not easy, and it saddens me to think of those who are hurting right now. It frustrates me that I can’t comfort everyone, and I question whether my clumsy words can resonate or provide comfort to anyone.
I want to emphasize that my fellow members and those in the K-pop industry I know genuinely love this work. They hurt because they care, and even when they feel empty, they continue to give love to themselves, their members, their families, and their fans.
I want to make it clear: we are not people who can be easily judged for our journey. We have endured pain and challenges to show our best selves on stage, and we work tirelessly for that. Please don’t underestimate what it means to be an idol.
We don’t deserve to have our story treated lightly. This goes for all artists; we are not your items to be used at will. Just one week of music shows can leave us utterly exhausted. Yet, even amidst advertisements, events, and performances, I see colleagues smiling warmly and greeting me. When they do, I smile back, as that is the least I can do. Their simple greetings and heartfelt messages in albums give me strength on tough days.
I appreciate the culture of challenges, where friends, even those who don’t know each other, can share dance videos together. Building small memories together is beautiful, and if it brings joy to the fans, even better. I hope we can all make an effort to be a little warmer. If we support and treat each other kindly, perhaps things can improve. Watching someone fall apart and give up is something I detest. My sincere wish is to stop giving wounds that we cannot take responsibility for. I don’t want to see my members, fellow artists, or our devoted fans hurt any longer. I want to express my love and apologies to those fans who support us so warmly.
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ww: As Seungkwan said, I hope this can be a world only full of warmth.
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astrolovecosmos · 21 days ago
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How to Get in Touch with Your North Node
Aries NN: Play more games or join more competitions. Make a list of YOUR wants and needs. Go see a movie alone or do more errands alone to exercise independence. Allow yourself to experience anger and passion. Work on healthy anger management tools and skills. Embrace change and the new. Take action more. Don't be afraid to be a little more impulsive. Make a vision board. Focus on your interests from when you were much younger.
Taurus NN: Do some spring cleaning - and even more so, throwing away. Sit or lay on the ground more. How can you enjoy or incorporate nature into your life more? Forgive yourself from times you were tricked, betrayed, or made an ignorant decision. Practice routine. Take time to disconnect from social media. Address your insecurities in a direct or even tangible way. Remember to see the beauty and strengths in yourself. Lean into resourcefulness.
Gemini NN: Try journaling. Read - read - read. Appreciate or accept your inner child, your flaws, your insecurities. If you can't be honest with a friend, partner, or family member reconsider your boundaries with them. Speak your mind more often. Be open to changing your opinions. Take technology breaks. Yet a meditation or self-care app may be useful. Explore different methods of self-expression. Speak as much as you listen and vice versa. Try something new often.
Cancer NN: Take your mental health seriously. Self-care is worth it. Cook a new recipe or learn how to cook. Practice self-awareness/introspection more often. Consider therapy or self-help books and media. Appreciating and finding strength in your soft side will be a needed challenge. Taking care of something even if it is a plant or pet can be fulfilling. Listen to your intuition. Practicing gratitude and giving can be helpful. Go where you feel safe!
Leo NN: Always schedule time for enjoyment, pleasure, hobbies, indulgence. Hike. Spoil yourself but be sure to spoil others too. Go out to more parties and events. Channel your passion and anger into productivity. Stretch and practice yoga. Do breathing exercises. Get up early more often. Make art - create something. Be open minded to romance and/or affection. Take pride in yourself and life.
Virgo NN: Practice more realism and/or humility. Take part in puzzles, riddles, and anything that uses logic or critical thinking. Tap into your society's common sense and norms that can be most helpful to you. Volunteer or take part in charities. Be part of a team somehow. Reexamine your relationship with work. Surprise someone you care about with a gift, favor, trip, etc. Recognize your talents and skills. Learn a new skill or work on improving a craft. Practice healthy eating and exercise habits!
Libra NN: Be more mindful and selective of who you befriend and date. Practicing self-love is a must. Return favors often. Spend more quality time with that person you haven't seen lately. Be open to frequent date nights, couples counseling, couple events, and double dates if you have a partner. Balance alone time with social time. Get in touch with your romantic and artistic side. Practice objectivity when you can. Don't compare yourself to others. Embrace independence but don't forget to also embrace giving and receiving in relationships.
Scorpio NN: INTROSPECTION NEEDED. Distance yourself from media or people that cause anger, frustration, or heavy sadness or doubt. Self-control is important to practice. Don't lie to yourself! Journal, maybe try a dream journal. Don't underestimate your intuition. Go out in nature. Try something new based on your hunches. Examine yours and others intentions closely. Celebrate the small wins. Get out of your head and get out of your own way. Focus on your goals. Practice and enforce self-respect.
Sagittarius NN: Don't be afraid to explore beliefs and ideals that are very different from yours. Practice independence. Take a few more risks. Give yourself a pep talk. Try power poses. Stick to your morals and your gut. Be honest. Look at the big picture more often. Knowledge is power should be your motto. Learn something new. Speak confidently. Practice authenticity. Try to be present. Make a plan to accomplish small goals and eventually move onto larger goals.
Capricorn NN: Speak up more in meetings! Try going for that promotion or position. Understand the power and importance of money and materialism. Practice self-control and self-discipline. Be more patient. Study or look into history, economics, investments, politics, or business. Work on your boundaries actively. Practice decisiveness when you can. Put yourself first responsibly. Question authority often. Make moves that are more thoughtful or strategic. Pay attention to who supports you and who doesn't. Avoid rushing. Work on trusting yourself.
Aquarius NN: Understand and accept other's intentions. Let go of unhealthy attachments. Practice independence often. Explore themes of rebellion and empowerment. Practice cooperation. Don't resist change. Materialism is not your friend. Try to find what inspires you and be around it often. Cultivating healthy friendships is important. Explore unconventional ideas. Face the unknown when you can. Look at the big picture. Laugh when you can. Practice more tolerance.
Pisces NN: Tapping into your beliefs and exploring spirituality or religion is a major theme. Embrace sensitivity, empathy, and kindness. Give when you can. Don't just relate to others - see yourself in them. Find beauty in yours and others' flaws. Take the scenic route. Practice self-reflection. Practice flexibility and leave behind energy-draining goals or pursuits that don't offer personal fulfillment. Idealism and positive thinking can be helpful at times. Honestly... get lost in yourself or even another sometimes, just remember to come back up to the surface.
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pitchsidestories · 20 days ago
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el sueño de una niña (1) II Jenni Hermoso x Reader
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part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2175
a/n: dear readers, the inspiration for this oneshot was Jenni Hermoso's speech at the Ballon d'Or ceremony, enjoy. 🖤💜
“Wait, I know that you’re a football player. Why did you come from my mamis bedroom?”
Jenni was on her way to sneak out of your appartement but when that small voice held her back. Curiously she turned the head around to look into the eyes of a little girl who the Spaniard estimated to be between five to six years old.
That must have been your daughter Mila Jenni thought to herself. It was the big confession after the great night the two of you had spent together.
Something in the reveal activated her flight mode, the forward’s plan was to leave and never look back. Her life was so chaotic she didn’t feel ready to be a part of a family.
Even though everything about yesterday touched her more than Jenni wanted to admit. Images of it flashed behind her eyes capturing passion, beauty and love. 
“Uhm.. you didn’t see me, okay?”, the raven-haired woman returned the question flustered.
“But you’re the Jenni Hermoso, right? The one who won the World cup with Spain.”, Mila looked at her big-eyed, her voice full of adoration.
“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”, Jenni replied, pressing a finger to her lips to underline her words.
“Wow.”, the little girl whispered amazed.
“Sorry, I really need to leave now. I’ve a speech to write.”, the striker apologized.
This didn’t stop Mila to confide in the older woman. “I’d love to be a football player like you when I’m grown up.”
“You do?”, something of your daughter’s sincerity made Jenni stay despite her announcement earlier that she needed to go.
“Yes.”, the girl emphasized.
“Hm..”
“It’s a big dream of mine.”, Mila added smiling shily.
“You’ll have to work hard for it.”, the Spaniard told her seriously.
“I can do that.”, your daughter assured her.
“And people will try to keep you from it.. they will tear you down and hope you’ll be compliant.”, Jenni continued gravely, kneeing down so she could look into the girl’s eyes.
“Did they do that with you?”, Mila questioned empathetically, placing her small hand carefully to the dark-haired woman’s cheek.
“Yes. All my life. So, promise me one thing, okay?”, she confirmed.
“Okay?”
“Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and cannot be. Promise?”, Jenni pressed a kiss to your daughter’s fingers.
“I promise.”, Mila answered solemnly.
“If you excuse me now.”, the older woman gave her an apologetic look.
“Bye, Jenni. I hope I’ll see you back soon.”, the girl said in an optimistic tone that left no doubt that the football player would return to your appartement.
“We’ll see. Thank you though.”, Jenni answered gratefully.
“Thank you for what?”, your daughter frowned confused.
“You just gave me an idea for my speech.”, the football player’s face lit up with excitement as she spoke.
Jenni shuffled the pieces of papers once more while someone applied her make up for the Ballon D’Or ceremony.
The writing on her notes was almost illegible, she had scribbled down her thoughts way too quickly on her way to the venue. It didn’t matter. She knew now what she wanted to say on stage. Still, she refused to let go of her notes.
“Jenni, have you actually prepared a speech?”
Alexias face appeared behind her in the mirror, She was already in her suit, her hair pulled into a low bun.
Jenni was about to complain about the surprised tone of Alexias voice when Patri joined them: “No way! I thought you’d just start talking like you always do.“
Jenni raised one eyebrow at the reflection of her two Spanish teammates and grinned: “That was the initial plan but I had a better idea.“
“Did someone spark your inspiration?”, Marta asked innocently.
Once the make-up artist let go of her face, she turned towards them and nodded: “Yes. And I hope she’s watching.“
Her teammates exchanged unreadable glances without saying a word while Jenni walked past them, leading the way to the award ceremony.
For what felt like hours, they sat there and listened to men talk. Jennis gaze kept going back to the clock, willing the time to slow down or the speakers to talk faster so Mila had a chance to watch before her bedtime.
Finally, she was called up on stage to receive her award. There was applause but she knew a lot of the people weren’t satisfied with her nomination. She held onto her notes and it all faded into the background once she started speaking about the little girl that wanted to follow in her footsteps, the girl that deserved to have a safer environment to play football in.
Her teammates welcomed her back to her seat with standing ovations. Alexia nodded at her once with a set jaw while Aitana gave her an inquiring look: “You dedicated it to a young girl? Who’s that?”
“Someone I met this morning.“, Jenni replied truthfully as she sat down.
“She seems to have left quite an impression on you.“, Caroline remarked.
“She did. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with all this shit… but there are so many little girls out there that should have it better than we did back then.“
“I agree with that.“, Alexia chimed in.
Marta nodded in agreement: “Me too, obviously. We had to put up with a lot.“
“Let’s be honest, we still do.“, Aitana whispered.
Jenni answered with new-found determination: “Yes but until she gets older, we might have already changed some more things.“
“I bet we will.“, Salma said quietly, before they all went quiet again and focused on the next award recipient.
Much to the surprise of her national and former club teammates Jenni announced at the after party, the alcohol-free wine glass still resting in her hand untouched. “I think I’m going to leave.”
“Leave?”, Patri repeated puzzled.
“Yeah, this party is boring anyway.”, the striker shrugged. The other women secretly thought the same, they couldn’t celebrate like the men around them as they were having a national team game the next morning.
 Seeing Jenni step into your apartment while she still wore her glamorous dark suit jacket showing a large portion of her skin underneath felt almost unreal to you. It wasn’t that long ago when Mila and you watched the ballon d’or ceremony on tv and now she was back in flesh and blood. The football player was even more gorgeous here than on the screen.
Quickly Jenni revealed that the celebrations had bored her which was the moment you told her about your night.
“Mila stayed awake the whole time, she didn’t want to fall asleep until you were on the stage, Jenni.”
“She watched?”, the dark-haired woman asked happily.
“Yes, Mila loved everything about your speech.”, you nodded thrilled by the fact that your excitement was mirrored in the forward’s face.
“I’ve to thank her. She inspired me.”, she confessed.
“You inspired her as well.”, you admitted smiling.  
“Even if she’s the only one, I reached my goal.”, Jenni beamed.
“To be fair I think you inspired many more with your words.”, you remarked solemnly.
“I hope so.”, the dark-haired woman sighed.
“Trust me.”, you answered softly.
After a meaningful pause you added. “I almost thought you wouldn’t call or wanted to see me again back then you left without a word in the morning.”
“That would sound like me actually.”, the footballer cleared her throat nervously. She loved to play the game, haunting for the next great beauty to court and lay down in bed with before going on the haunt again, always being a restless player. All was fair in love and football.
“She’ll appreciate the thank you though, it’ll mean a lot to her.”, you said while you bit your lip.
“That’s why I’m here. I want to thank you both.”, Jenni looked at you sincerely.
“Shouldn’t you be at the grand afterparty sipping champagne and flirting with pretty women?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously.
“Not many women there that aren’t my teammates. And I’m not allowed to drink, I’ve to be back with my national team tomorrow.”, the striker chuckled amused.
“I see.”
“And maybe I preferred to spend my time here.”, she acknowledged, one hand ran tensely through her long hair.
You considered her for a moment and nodded in the direction of Milas bedroom: “Sadly she’s already asleep…“
“That’s okay. I could stay if you let me.“
You knew you should have thought about it for longer but you couldn’t resist the thought of Jenni staying one more night: “Yes, you can. If you promise to say goodbye in the morning.“
“If I was planning to sneak out again, I wouldn’t have told you.“, Jenni half-joked.
You tilted your head: “Good point.“
“So?”
“You can stay the night.“, you finally confirmed.
Relief seemed to flash across Jennis face for a millisecond: “Thanks.“
“You’re welcome, Jenni.“
The next morning you were woken up by footsteps on the wooden floor. Your heart sank immediately, thinking it was Jenni breaking her promise so you refused to turn around. You didn’t want to watch her leave again. Instead you heard a tiny voice whisper in awe: “Jenni!”
“Woah, you’re already awake, little one. Good morning.“, Jenni yawned and stretched right next to you.
She was still here, still in your bed.
“I saw you! Last night!”, Mila said full of excitement.
“You did? And did you like my suit? It’s on that chair.“, Jenni smiled, pointing across the room.
You watched as Mila walked over and gently touched the fabric in awe.
“It’s beautiful.“
“Right? Next year I’ll take you and your mum with me.“, the football player said, winking at you as if to tell you that she knew you were awake.
While the smile fell from your face, Milas eyes lit up: “What? Really?”
“Yes, why not?”
You might have been desperate for her to stay another night but you weren’t delusional. Who knew where the two of you were in a year? Most likely not sharing a bed anymore.
“Don’t promise her too much.“, you warned the football player.
Jenni was unusually quiet before replied: “I… mean it.“
“You mean it?”
“I do. I want to keep seeing you and her.“, she said with determination.
Milas eyes had been darting back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. “We want to keep seeing you too!”, she yelled happily.
Completely ignoring you, Jenni turned back to your daughter and pulled her onto the bed: “Would you like to see a football game in Italy tonight?”
Mila was bursting with joy: “Yes!”
“I mean isn’t that too spontaneous? Like what about the airplane tickets?“, you interjected.
“I can take care of it all. But only if that’s okay with you.“, Jenni offered while Mila put on her best puppy eyes: “Pleeease.“
Who were you to deny your daughter such a once in a lifetime opportunity?
With a hesitant nod, you finally agreed: “Okay.“
The day has flown by, Mila and you quickly packed your bag for one night, before following your lover to get on the plane. While the striker was on the team walk, your daughter and you did your own exploring the Italian surroundings. It was like a daydream from which you didn’t want to wake up.
In the evening, you could feel from the stands Jennis glances on you who was standing on the pitch with some of her friends. Next to you Mila couldn’t hide her excitement seeing her favourite players live. It genuinely warmed your heart to witness and share that special moment with your child.
“Pretty girl from next door? She’s so your type, Jenni.”, Laia Codina wiggled her eyebrows.
“That’s why she’s here.”, the forward winked at the defender.
With a smirk on her face Alexia bumped her elbow into her teammates side. “Who would’ve thought that Jennifer found herself a family.”
“Strange things happen, Ale.”, Jenni shrugged with her shoulders.
“Yes, it’s Halloween soon.”, Vicky threw in teasingly.
“Rude.”, the older striker commented smiling.
“Vicky.”, the Barcelona captain clicked her tongue reprovingly.
The test game ended in a draw, but that didn’t stop Jenni from giving you a passionate kiss.
“That wasn’t very subtle, Jenni.”, you laughed.
“I don’t care about subtle anymore.”, she clarified grinning.
“What about the others watching?”, you asked her, cheeks flushed.
“They just love to stare at pretty girls.”, Jenni stated firmly.
“Pretty girls, hm?”, you repeated. Admittedly under her intense gaze you felt more beautiful than ever before. She didn’t hide her desire towards you and wasn’t afraid to show it in the public.
“Yes.”, she confirmed.
“Kiss me again.”, you requested, your voice slightly hoarse from cheering. Before you even could finish your sentence, her lips were on yours, making both of your hearts flutter.
Everything started with a dream of a little girl which was your daughter, in which Jenni saw her younger self, Mila undoubtedly became her inspiration for the speech. The three of you would now dream together.
Keep dreaming.
gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/imverits/765621490900238336?source=share
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kleopatra45 · 11 days ago
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Sun in the Houses of D9 Chart
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1st House
When you have the Sun in your first house that partner must be one who helps you find your uniqueness and express it. This is a person who most likely knows they are right about something, firm in their beliefs. Something about them is very large, maybe even radiating and they might play an active role in your life guiding you to the realization of your own magnificence. Be ready for someone who tells you to be all best version of yourself possible, and respects your boundaries. Or mirrors — so that both the strengths and flaws can be reflected, providing a chance for greater awareness.
2nd House
Sun in the 2nd house means your future husband is someone who seeks stability and security, especially financially. Expectations will likely run high for loyalty and commitment, too, as they may either come from a place of strong financial means or be very good at managing resources. Can be the practical, pragmatic earthy side of a partner who appreciates simple pleasures and finds sense in building and curating comforts in your home. The may assist you discover your value, particularly in relation to self-respect educating you all about having a sense of worth in the relationship.
3rd House
A Sun in Third House — If you have your sun here, you will probably be drawn towards someone who piques your curious and communicative side. They could be a listener, a thinker or someone who enjoys the exchange of ideas and ideas. In this connection, communication is at the heart of who your partner will be, they will retain a razor-sharp wit and be inquisitive (even if it may seem challenging), and possess agility in being able to explore new directions. They might work in communication, media or educational fields and they will challenge you to be connected with the world. This partner provides enough of a spark to keep your mental wheels turning as you venture throughout life.
4th House
With the Sun in the fourth house, your compatible partner is likely someone who attaches great importance to kinship, heritage, and sentimental security. They may have a profound, nurturing essence, and they’ll probably bring warmth and solace to your shared domestic situation. This individual might have strong familial bonds or be intensely linked to their origins, and they will prioritize constructing a protected and loving home base. They're likely contemplative and emotionally astute, valuing internal development and a sanctuary-like area. With them, you’ll feel at home in your soul, as though you’ve discovered someone who offers deep, unwavering aid and foundation. Additionally, this person has the ability to connect with others on an emotional level through thoughtful discussion and a calm, gentle demeanor. While home and heritage are priorities, they also value personal growth through respectful, insightful exchanges that bring greater understanding.
5th House
The Sun in the fifth house indicates that your prospective spouse will be amorous, artistic, and playful. They'll add a spark of passion and enthusiasm to your life, and they're inclined to like art, self-expression, and spontaneity. They could be someone with a lively, childlike personality who exudes optimism and charisma. This spouse values romance and is prone to express it in dramatic or distinctive ways. If you want children, they may be very involved in your children's life, adding joy and excitement to family gatherings, or they may urge you to express your creativity through collaborative projects.
6th House
With the Sun in the sixth house, your spouse could be someone who exemplifies perseverance, resilience, and a sense of service. They could work in a healing or service-oriented field, such as healthcare, education, or community work. This person loves hard work and will most likely provide structure and support in your life, allowing you to keep healthy routines and balanced obligations. They are grounded and may have a quiet, unassuming nature, expressing their love through acts of service rather than grandiose displays. This relationship will most likely be one of mutual support, in which you collaborate to attain long-term goals and inner harmony.
7th House
The Sun in the seventh house indicates that your spouse will have a great effect on your life, most likely someone with a strong personality and leadership skills. They will exude confidence and may have a charisma that naturally draws people in. This someone may be highly motivated and accomplished in their area, even appreciated by others. They will look for an equal partner in you, with whom they can create a life of balance and mutual respect. Your journey with this person will feel like a meaningful partnership, with each of you learning from and growing alongside the other.
8th House
A spouse who enters your life with the Sun in the ninth house is likely to be mysterious, intense, and emotionally deep. This companion will provide transforming experiences to help you discover hidden elements of yourself. They may be highly perceptive and drawn to psychology, spirituality, or healing. Expect a deep connection that goes under the surface, where passion and difficulties help you grow together. This person may be financially resourceful, and they can assist you in managing shared resources. You'll discover the power of vulnerability and deep, heartfelt connection as you explore life's mysteries together.
9th House
With the Sun in the ninth house, your spouse is likely to value knowledge, philosophy, and adventure. They could have a broad viewpoint, possibly originating from a different background or having a strong interest in travel, spirituality, or education. They'll motivate you to grow and widen your horizons, allowing you to experience life from other angles. This companion could be a teacher or mentor who will inspire you to embrace your beliefs and spirituality. Together, you'll start on a lifelong adventure of learning, growth, and purpose.
10th House
When your Sun occupies the tenth house, it indicates that your future partner would be someone who is not only ambitious and industrious but also earns respect in their workspace. Such individuals are most likely to be career-driven wanting to change the world in some way and even take up an exalted position. This person will help you to fulfill your dreams and motivate you to think about the dreams in the far horizon. Such ambitions will be round you, and as important they will regard the joint legacy creation, with them, you will be able to achieve a way of living, which is meritocratic, and dignified. They can perhaps be the more level-headed of the two and, as a couple, you will forge an interdependent bond of respect, ambition and stability.
11th House
The placement of the Sun in the eleventh house suggests that the person could have a spouse who is reminiscent of a best friend- someone who resonates with their dreams and aspirations. Such a person is outgoing, modern, and may be engaged in some kind of organizational activities. A person like this holds friendship in high esteem, and this brings into the partnership cohesion and cooperation. This person may broaden your horizons or motivate you to achieve your goals. There will be common goals and values that will act as a strong foundation of your relationship, and you shall be happy in creating a world that integrates your uniqueness and the objectives you wish to achieve.
12th House
With the placement of your Sun in the twelfth house, it is likely your future partner will be someone with a very soft heart or perhaps spiritual or even enigmatic. Such a person may be involved in some self-healing or inner work and they will most certainly assist you in exploring the more obscure aspects of existence. This mate may be more suited to being on their own, enjoying activities such as silence, contemplation or creative art. They will provide you with emotional stability and tranquility, teaching you that sometimes it is necessary to turn within to appreciate one’s surroundings. You’d share a love that goes well beyond the physical level, towards greater principles of existence such as love, life, and the spirit. This bond will probably have an ethereal quality.
©️kleopatra45
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