#Entertaining Facts About The Environment

[cleanearthfunfacts]

Clean Earth Fun Facts Post on Trash Pollution

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[teddybeartoji]

zombie apocalypse au where you end up in a settlement and meet a cutiepie satoru. he's lived almost his entire life there – sure, he goes on runs every once in a while but you've been out there. it's different.

right?

the dark bags under your eyes have yet to fade but satoru has never heard you complain. he knows everybody gets a talk when they first come to this place; where they can get help, who they can talk to when if they have any problems. if you can't sleep. or eat. or if you still feel restless. it's understandable that the change from having to fight for your life on a daily basis to not even having to carry a gun with you is hard.

the food tastes weird when you're not starving and drinking water seems like a complete waste when you're not dying of thirst. the bed you sleep on is too soft, the sheets feel like silk and it makes your skin itch. it's off-putting.

and yet, not a single complaint has left your lips. you observe your surroundings while handing out pretty little smiles like they're candy. you say thank you and goodbye, you offer to help out with the chores that weren't even yours to begin with and you're willing to entertain the kids with silly jokes. it's an almost perfect mask.

but you're tense; your eyes are always scanning your environment despite the fact that you've been at the settlement for almost a week now. you stretch your lips to show your gratitude, but satoru sees the way your fist tightens whenever the room is too crowded. the way you pocket smaller snacks when you think that nobody is looking. the way you flinch at a faraway sound of a child's laugh.

satoru finds you utterly intriguing.

people come and go, but you... there's something different about you.

maybe it's the dark, murky look in your eyes whenever you're handling a knife. carving a piece of meat like it's something you do every day; your eyes are the only things that change – you give a small smile to the lady working next to you as a thank you for whatever kind of advice she just gave you. she pats the steak while laughing and satoru doesn't miss the way your lips twitch.

you lick the remnants of the meat that stick to your fingers, the liquid that dribbles down the side of your hand the second she turns around. and satoru can't look away.

but there's no obvious malice.

it's interesting.

satoru is no detective, but he's done his fair share of people looking. what else is there to do when you're locked behind big walls; people are interesting, especially now that the world has ended. they tick faster, they explode bigger. they shiver more, they cry more. the lies have more consequences. it's hard to trust others, it's hard to trust anybody at this point. but satoru's eyes are keen, more so than anyone else's there.

you're not some caged beast, you're no dog on a leash, but you're an animal nonetheless. satoru just doesn't know which one yet. which of the living things that reside in the woods is calm enough to get so close to other people? confident enough. arrogant enough.

which one of them is as curious as you are? as sly? which one of them knows how to hide their sharp teeth behind a warm smile? satoru promises to himself that he'll figure it out, no matter what it takes.

or maybe the 'something' is the way you handle yourself when things go south. you didn't look away when a walker that managed to slip in through the gates sank his teeth into a man's neck. when everybody else was in shock, their eyes set on the gory sight in front of them – you were the first to grab the closest thing resembling a weapon and to deal with it.

blood splattered all over your clean clothes, your hair, your face. but you paid it no mind. this is what you're used to, this is what's normal. taking a knife to the poor wailing man laying on the ground was nothing special either. you kneeled down beside him and looked him in the eyes as you did it.

desperate hands reached out for you as fear settled in his stomach. he grabbed onto the collar of your shirt and pulled you closer, pleas stumbling from his lips like a waterfall. but to you, he was dead already. there's no remorse, there's no guilt. you're not a killer, you're a survivor.

satoru's mind raced as he watched you work while all the other had turned away, their sobs barely reaching his ears. no remorse, no guilt.

he just thought the blood looked beautiful on you.

but you're keen, too.

you try not to pay him too much attention, you try not to look but you feel his curious eyes wherever you go. you hear him laugh and you see his big smiles. he likes to play with the kids and he likes to tease his peers. he seems to know just about everybody, mingling in their lives by acting like a cupid or just indulging in gossip like some high schooler.

but something rotten sprouts deep inside him as well.

there's blood on his hands and you know it the second your gazes meet from across the big dining hall. the corners of his eyes crinkle and his dimples make a show as he gives you a grin, sharp teeth shining right at you. he knows you and you know him.

a survivor always recognizes a survivor.

[pearlprincess02]

what you lie about (mercury signs & houses)

aries mercury

mercury in aries often lies about their intentions or feelings. this placement is characterized by a quick, impulsive thought process, which can lead to hasty statements or exaggerated claims. an aries mercury might exaggerate or downplay aspects of their situation to appear more confident or to avoid vulnerability. they might also lie to cover up mistakes or to stay ahead in competitive scenarios, driven by their desire to maintain control and assert their independence. their approach to communication is usually direct and energetic, but the impulsiveness can lead to inconsistencies or half-truths when they feel cornered or pressured.

taurus mercury

mercury in taurus tends to lie about practical matters and personal resources. this placement values stability and security, so taurus mercury might distort the truth to protect their financial situation, possessions, or personal comfort. they could be inclined to exaggerate their wealth or downplay their expenses to maintain an image of financial stability or competence. their lies are often motivated by a desire to avoid conflict, preserve their status, or keep their personal life secure and private. taurus mercury’s approach to communication is typically deliberate and cautious, so when they do lie, it’s usually well thought out and aimed at preserving their sense of security.

gemini mercury

mercury in gemini often lies about details and facts, driven by a desire to navigate social dynamics and maintain a flexible image. this placement values intellectual stimulation and social interaction, so gemini mercury might exaggerate, omit, or twist facts to entertain, impress, or fit in with different groups. they might also lie to avoid confrontation or to adapt quickly to changing situations, ensuring they can keep up with the fast-paced social environment. their lies are usually more about maintaining curiosity or keeping conversations engaging rather than malicious intent, reflecting their ever-shifting interests and adaptability.

cancer mercury

mercury in cancer often lies about their emotions and personal circumstances. this placement is deeply connected to their inner world and can be sensitive about their vulnerabilities. as a result, cancer mercury might distort the truth to protect their emotional well-being or to shield their private life from scrutiny. they may downplay their feelings or fabricate stories to avoid appearing weak or to maintain a sense of control over their personal narrative. their lies are often motivated by a desire to create a safe, comforting environment for themselves and others, reflecting their need to manage how they are perceived emotionally and protect their sensitive nature.

leo mercury

mercury in leo often lies about their achievements and personal importance. this placement values recognition and admiration, so leo mercury might embellish or exaggerate their accomplishments, talents, or status to enhance their image and garner praise. they may fabricate details to appear more impressive or to maintain their dominant presence in social situations. their lies are typically motivated by a desire to shine and be acknowledged, reflecting their need for validation and a strong sense of self-worth. leo mercury's communication style is often grandiose and dramatic, and their fabrications usually aim to reinforce their sense of superiority and influence.

virgo mercury

mercury in virgo often lies about their imperfections and mistakes. this placement values precision and efficiency, and virgo mercury might downplay or obscure errors, shortcomings, or personal flaws to maintain an image of competence and control. they may also be inclined to embellish details or present overly polished versions of reality to avoid criticism or to uphold their high standards. their lies are driven by a need to appear reliable and capable, reflecting their anxiety about making mistakes or falling short of their own rigorous expectations. virgo mercury's communication is typically meticulous and analytical, and their fabrications often serve to preserve their perceived perfectionism and competence.

libra mercury

mercury in libra often lies about their true opinions and feelings to maintain harmony and avoid conflict. this placement values balance and relationships, so libra mercury might obscure their genuine thoughts or preferences to keep the peace or to align with the expectations of others. they may also exaggerate or soften their views to avoid rocking the boat or to present themselves as agreeable and diplomatic. their lies are typically motivated by a desire to sustain social harmony and avoid discord, reflecting their strong emphasis on creating and preserving pleasant interactions and maintaining a fair, balanced atmosphere.

scorpio mercury

mercury in scorpio often lies about their deeper motives and personal vulnerabilities. this placement values privacy and emotional intensity, so scorpio mercury might obscure their true intentions or feelings to protect themselves from being exposed or manipulated. they may also conceal their strategic thinking or hidden agendas, driven by a need to maintain control and leverage in situations. their lies are typically motivated by a desire to safeguard their inner world and maintain power in their interactions, reflecting their tendency to navigate life with a sense of secrecy and psychological depth.

sagittarius mercury

mercury in sagittarius often lies about details and commitments, driven by their desire for freedom and exploration. this placement values honesty and big-picture thinking but can be prone to exaggerating or glossing over specifics to avoid feeling constrained or bogged down by mundane details. sagittarius mercury might fabricate or embellish stories to make their experiences sound more adventurous or to align with their optimistic outlook. their lies are usually motivated by a need to maintain their sense of excitement and spontaneity, reflecting their resistance to being tied down by practical constraints or tedious commitments.

capricorn mercury

mercury in capricorn often lies about their achievements and the extent of their responsibilities. this placement values status, structure, and reliability, so capricorn mercury might downplay challenges or exaggerate their accomplishments to project an image of competence and control. they may also conceal their struggles or mistakes to avoid appearing vulnerable or inadequate. their lies are typically motivated by a desire to maintain their authoritative position and protect their reputation, reflecting their need to uphold their professional and personal image as steadfast and capable.

aquarius mercury

mercury in aquarius often lies about their true thoughts and personal beliefs to fit in with unconventional or progressive ideals. this placement values originality and social ideals, so aquarius mercury might obscure their genuine opinions or downplay their personal views to align with a group’s vision or to maintain their image as a forward-thinking individual. they may also fabricate details to seem more innovative or to keep up with rapidly evolving ideas. their lies are typically motivated by a desire to blend into or influence social trends, reflecting their need to be seen as part of the cutting-edge or socially aware crowd.

pisces mercury

mercury in pisces often lies about their true feelings and personal realities. this placement values empathy and imagination, so pisces mercury might obscure or romanticize the truth to protect others’ feelings or to create a more idealized version of events. they may also fabricate details to avoid confronting uncomfortable realities or to escape from harsh truths. their lies are typically motivated by a desire to maintain emotional harmony, avoid conflict, or preserve their idealistic view of the world, reflecting their sensitivity and tendency to navigate life through a lens of compassion and fantasy.

in houses

mercury in 1st house: their true age, their real height, their actual weight, their genuine feelings, their past mistakes, their hidden insecurities, their secret fears, their financial situation, their academic struggles, their social awkwardness, their lack of confidence, their unpopular opinions, their embarrassing moments, their guilty pleasures, their secret talents, their hidden desires, their biggest regrets, their darkest secrets, their manipulative tactics, their true intentions,

mercury in 2nd house: their financial status, their debt, their spending habits, their savings, their investments, their job security, their salary, their inheritance, their possessions, their material desires, their financial goals, their money management skills, their business failures, their gambling habits, their shopping addiction, their financial dependence, their greed, their materialism, their stinginess, their financial secrets,

mercury in 3rd house: their intelligence, their knowledge, their grades, their communication skills, their writing ability, their reading habits, their language skills, their travel experiences, their social skills, their sense of humor, their gossip, their secrets, their lies, their manipulations, their gaslighting tactics, their ability to persuade, their power of persuasion, their ability to deceive, their knack for storytelling, their ability to adapt,

mercury in 4th house: their family background, their childhood experiences, their home life, their relationship with parents, their siblings' secrets, their family's financial status, their family's history, their family traditions, their home address, their neighborhood, their hometown, their country of origin, their ancestry, their family secrets, their family feuds, their family scandals, their family's dark secrets, their family's mental health issues, their family's criminal history, their family's secrets,

mercury in 5th house: their romantic interests, their dating history, their number of partners, their flirtatious behavior, their cheating habits, their creative talents, their artistic abilities, their gambling addiction, their love for drama, their need for attention, their childish behavior, their lack of commitment, their fear of intimacy, their jealousy issues, their possessiveness, their manipulative tactics, their hidden desires, their secret fantasies, their true intentions, their emotional instability,

mercury in 6th house: their work ethic, their job responsibilities, their salary, their health issues, their daily routine, their diet & exercise habits, their sleep schedule, their stress levels, their time management skills, their organizational abilities, their work-life balance, their job satisfaction, their career aspirations, their performance reviews, their sick days, their work conflicts, their job hunting process, their professional networking, their career failures, their mental health struggles,

mercury in 7th house: their relationship status, their partner's flaws, their own flaws in the relationship, their commitment level, their future plans with their partner, their expectations from the relationship, their compatibility with their partner, their communication issues, their jealousy, their possessiveness, their infidelity, their past relationships, their exes, their love languages, their arguments, their disagreements, their shared values, their long-term goals as a couple, their financial situation as a couple, their plans for the future,

mercury in 8th house: their financial situation, their debts, their inheritances, their shared finances with partners, their investments, their tax returns, their insurance policies, their wills, their fears about death, their obsessions, their addictions, their secrets, their grudges, their dark desires, their hidden agendas, their manipulative tactics, their power plays, their control issues, their vulnerability, their deepest fears,

mercury in 9th house: their educational background, their travel experiences, their foreign language skills, their philosophical beliefs, their religious views, their political opinions, their cultural background, their intellectual abilities, their knowledge of world events, their interest in current affairs, their love of learning, their thirst for knowledge, their open-mindedness, their tolerance, their respect for diversity, their prejudices, their biases, their bigotry, their ignorance, their arrogance,

mercury in 10th house: their job title, their salary, their career aspirations, their work-life balance, their job satisfaction, their relationship with their boss, their performance reviews, their job security, their career failures, their professional networking, their ambition, their work ethic, their time management skills, their leadership abilities, their public image, their professional reputation, their awards & recognitions, their career goals, their career path, their industry knowledge,

mercury in 11th house: their friendships, their social life, their group memberships, their online presence, their social media following, their networking skills, their popularity, their influence, their humanitarian work, their political views, their social activism, their rebellious nature, their desire for freedom, their need for independence, their fear of commitment, their aversion to authority, their ability to make friends easily, their social skills, their networking abilities, their desire for connection,

mercury in 12th house: their fears, their insecurities, their doubts, their weaknesses, their vulnerabilities, their past traumas, their mental health struggles, their addictions, their secrets, their lies, their manipulative tactics, their dark desires, their hidden agendas, their power plays, their control issues, their jealousy, their possessiveness, their resentment, their anger, their loneliness,

all observations belong to @pearlprincess02

main masterlist

[jethrowest]

let me see you stripped down to the bone…

- stripped by depeche mode

congratulations! you’ve been hired as homelander’s entire glam squad! what an opportunity! now let’s try real hard not to let the fumes get to you, okay?

pairing : homelander/afab reader

word count : 5.6k

warnings : homelander in and of himself, toxic workplace environment, something akin to stockholm syndrome, fingering, smut. 18+, mdni

special thanks to @blindmagdalena @sehtoast @homeb0ys and @clockworkzeppelin for letting me scream at you about this!

writing tag

gif credit

divider credit

Homelander is an asshole.

That doesn’t bother you much. You’ve dealt with plenty in this field, which means you’ve learned how to make life easier for all parties. That particular learning curve includes when to stand out and blend in, at times concurrently depending on what variety of asshole they happen to be.

As a whole, the makeup artists and hairstylists at Vought take care of The Seven and go where they’re needed. And as a cosmetologist, you were hired to provide both services for Homelander and Homelander only, which you consider to be one of the most prestigious stamps one could add to their professional passport.

Before you became official, you were colorfully threatened by a Ms. Ashley Barrett, who, after the fact, had no qualms throwing you into the lion’s den to figure your own shit out.

In no uncertain terms were you told that if you fucked any part of this up, your sparkling resume would look best as something to sit her smooth, bare ass on while getting fucked on top of her desk. No lube or protection. It would then be tossed exactly like her salad.

Not an image you could have ever predicted crossing your mind. Honestly, you should have stopped her right there and walked your happy little ass out of her office toward pastures that might have not been greener (you were being handsomely compensated), but certainly not as toxic. While the red flags were a color you couldn’t quite ignore, you were also curious about why they stood out so much more than they did regarding previous employers.

None of this is to say you live under a rock. Anyone who has access to the internet is ambushed daily by these Supes’ personal lives. Homelander’s track record as far as choice in partners went hadn’t been ideal, so you understand that made him less popular at the time. That of course has nothing to do with you or your capabilities.

You opt to wear gray-colored glasses, seeing everything with a neutral blend of black and white. As much as possible anyway.

Nevertheless, curiosity killed the cat. But hopefully not your career.

The first day was awkward to say the least. Immediately, you knew you weren’t going to like your coworkers.

Glints of sympathy changed how they perceived you. A target, whether they intended for this to happen or not, was nailed to your forehead, and it made them buzz around you like avid, greedy wasps keen on seeing how rapidly the honeybee will be brutalized. You didn’t much care for going cross-eyed while staring at that target whenever you crossed paths. They didn’t know you, yet because of who you were working under, deemed you helpless. They didn’t give you a chance to establish yourself before branding you a victim.

Why should you respect them?

Small talk wasn’t entertained either, as their judgment tarnished any future encounters. They ostracized you once you showed no interest in engaging with them. That didn’t disappoint you. You weren’t here to make friends.

You do wonder how those before you fared: if they were jaded when they arrived or if they couldn’t help but succumb to the pressures of being at the top rung of a very unstable albeit sought after ladder.

Ms. Barrett quickly introduced you to Homelander, her parting gift before leaving the two of you alone.

You weren’t completely nervous in his presence. He wasn’t any different to you than the other celebrities you’d worked on, except he could rip you in half like a piece of paper if he was so inclined. But he’s the hero of this country’s story, so really, you should have nothing to worry about.

His demeanor, you noted, suggested arrogance, annoyance, and boredom. All things you’re used to. So you offered your hand to shake, which he eyed with a slightly upturned nose before grabbing, told him it was a pleasure to meet him and got straight to business.

Looking back, he was clearly expecting more out of you. Maybe not a display as excessive as getting on your knees and professing your undying love, but close enough. Somewhere in the middle, perhaps.

Part of you believes he might have also counted on fear. To you, he’s not anything or anyone unknown. Another big name in a fancy suit with impossible demands.

You were given a routine to follow and products to use. You did as you were instructed and found the process to be simple and, as Homelander’s expression revealed, uninspiring.

While you were utilizing a face brush to apply powder, he must have decided he was done enduring your lack of enthusiasm, because he suddenly asked, “What are you wearing?”

You stopped for a split second, no longer than, and continued. “The name of my clothing designer, you mean?”

He scoffed, waving his gloved hand at you, almost knocking the applicator you held to the ground. “No, your perfume. What are the top notes?”

You laughed and that seemed to confuse him. “Why, you want a bottle?”

“I don’t like it.” He sniffed sharply and cleared his throat. “Smells like you should be on the corner selling your used body parts.”

Ding ding ding. Alarm bells and red flags galore. You enjoy a challenge, however, and are a bit of a masochist, so you persevere.

“Well, what doesn’t smell like a cheap hooker to you? I’ll start wearing that instead.”

He cocked a brow, studying you. Trying to figure out if you were being serious or mocking him.

“It’s your first day.” A warning. “Are you on your best behavior, or can you do better?” He leaned forward in his chair, forcing you backward. “You should be working harder to prove yourself. Prove your worth.” He sat back again and shrugged. “Or maybe you really are worth as much as that dumpster juice you doused yourself in.”

At this point, he more than likely envisioned your happy little ass getting offended and storming out of the room. Breaking down, sobbing. Questioning why he was being so rude. One of those or, better yet, a nifty combination.

You’ve heard worse, unfortunately for him. Not always directed at you, but that doesn’t matter. You can handle it.

“You’re absolutely right,” you stated calmly, folding your arms across your chest. He looked at you with pretentious, petulant intrigue. “It is my first day, and I want to make a good impression. Which is why I’m asking you what you would like me to wear so I can continue to keep that good impression intact and, as our professional relationship develops, stay on top of it.”

Homelander’s mouth twitched. He sighed deeply and slouched in his seat, staring at the wall to the left of him. Then he deigned to cast his gaze back at you, resting his cheek on his index and middle finger. He tapped the arm rest with his other hand.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever.” A pause followed that lasted longer than necessary. Were you meant to guess? “Just wear something, I dunno, less. If you would have done your homework like a good little peon, you’d know I have super senses. Highly developed. Can you even imagine what that entails?”

Finally, he freed the canvas you were nearly finished with, and you flicked the soft bristles across the bridge of his nose. You smiled, more to yourself than him.

Felt rather on the nose, as the saying goes.

He didn’t comment on your grin. You didn’t give him time to. But he did huff like you were being obtuse on purpose.

“I can try. And my imagination is giving me some less-than-ideal scenarios,” you replied. Another pause. At least he was letting you do your job again.

You don’t know what compelled you to keep going, but something about his lack of a real answer made you carry on. “Do you have a favorite flower or baked good? Maybe a spice?”

Homelander almost glared up at you. You say almost because, for whatever reason, it didn’t seem like he was directing that harshness at you, though former words and actions proved otherwise. Something inside, perhaps. Or outside of this enclosed space.

“I already told you what to wear. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You took the hint and remained quiet the rest of your session. Soon, you were done.

As you were packing and tidying up your station, he took it upon himself to stand behind you. He lingered over your shoulder, watching the scene play out like he was director and star and you were barely an ant on the sidewalk he acknowledged before squashing.

The heat radiating off of him was impossible to dismiss, a wall of it barricading your backside. He clasped his fingers underneath his cape and inched closer. You thought he was as close to you as he could get without touching you. He was that warm.

When you glanced up, he was staring at you through the mirror. As absurd as it was, you managed to get chills. Goosebumps broke the surface of your skin.

“Fresh chocolate chip cookies. Straight out of the oven. Like mom used to make.” He flashed an unnerving smile before turning to exit.

From there on out, even after you bent to his will and found a gourmand scent that matched what he described, Homelander tested you. Your work ethic, clothing choice, eating habits, and most of all, patience.

Your parents would ask how you were liking your job, how it was working alongside the Supes- not to mention the most famous of all- and you’d lie through your teeth. You felt you had no choice, Ashley’s threat ringing in your ears.

Resume, bare ass, tossed salad...

Oh yeah, it’s going great! They’re all super flexible. I couldn’t be happier!

At least that pun made you feel a little better about hiding the shame of what you’ve allowed yourself to take on.

This was all in the first few weeks. It started to get a little easier after that, which is surprising considering more was added to your to-do list.

You should have moved on before starting. But, for whatever asinine reason, you didn’t.

Every time you go back to your apartment and assess your appearance in the bathroom mirror, you wonder who’s making who up here. He’s changing your looks more than you are his. You’re like his human doll.

You’ve put up with a lot over the years, but this takes the cake and shoves it in your face. As fucked as it is, the flavor is growing on you. Like a fungus. Growing, nonetheless.

You can’t stop thinking about him.

It’s innocent enough, you try convincing yourself. Making sure you have the right outfit laid out the night before, the right lunch (no onions or fish or anything “freaky”!), etc. He is your superior, after all. You shouldn’t be viewing him in any other light.

He’s the most frustrating aspect of your existence these days, but he’s also the one you’re around the most. His penchant for workplace gossip and how unintentionally funny he is tends to make him palatable, which has regrettably become an understatement.

Months go by. You’ve witnessed how alone he truly is. How he has nothing outside of performing his tricks on Vought’s all-encompassing stage. And when he begins asking for your input, starts doing things for you that are so blatant it’s perplexing, you find your stress and vexation melting into cumbersome fascination.

It’s embarrassing. You don’t have the courtesy of enough time to dwell on your feelings toward the situation either, from beginning to whatever end you might be met with. You suppose that could be beneficial in the long run.

It also hits you when you least expect it; when you really don’t want it to.

Your body doesn’t wait until you finally have a moment alone. It decides, while you’re helping Homelander with his skincare routine that he insisted upon because you know more than these vacuous corporate douche-bags, to heat up without warning and slither from your head to your heart until it grasps you unfairly between your legs.

You try not to step into momentary paralysis. You understand to what extent his powers reach. It’s not like he doesn’t go on and on about them. About himself.

Whatever he notices, it’s not right away. A palpable tension fills the air between the two of you eventually. But it takes a more significant amount of time than you would have anticipated to permeate the natural flow of things.

Fuck, you can’t even be safe inside here, where your thoughts, whatever they may be, are yours. You can’t even have yourself. He has every part of you, and you are willingly relinquishing that control.

Your evening, once you can have it, consists of combing over every decision you’ve made leading up to this strange, disorienting space you find yourself occupying. All it does is leave you exasperated in a much different way than before and with an unsettling observation (or hallucination):

Was that the tail end of the American flag outside your window?

You are unacceptably late.

Rushing around, you throw on the first top and bottoms you see from your closet and spritz some perfume on your neck and wrists. You don’t check your phone. You’re afraid of what will pop up on your screen. And, frankly, you don’t have the time.

Your only option for transportation is the subway, as you’re sure the special vehicle from Vought is long gone. Why would they wait for someone like you, even if you’re practically Homelander’s personal assistant? One of his only friends. You doubt he has more than Black Noir, and that isn’t as perfect as it appears to the casual viewer.

You dread what kind of explosion you’re without a doubt walking into once you show your miserable ass up. You’re going to smell like everyone on this train. He’s going to go ballistic.

The question remains: why are you continuing to put yourself through this? It’s not your circus, yet somehow, the monkeys have become your liability.

You know, deep down, what keeps you going back. It’s simply too ridiculous to admit aloud.

Making your way past security, hurriedly presenting your badge, you realize you forgot to brush your teeth, or at the very least, gargle some mouthwash. You thank your lucky stars when you open your purse to a pack of gum tucked away in one of the compartments.

It will have to do.

When you open the door to Homelander’s dressing room, you see a couple of employees standing near the counter where the bag of supplies has been opened and rifled through, looking like they might soil themselves, a frantic Ashley, and an extremely pissed off Homelander in the middle of it all.

Reflexively, you cringe. You attempt to wipe any trace from your features, but it’s too late. Ashley is glaring daggers at you and Homelander can hardly bring himself to look in your direction. The others don’t matter to you. They never did.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I know there’s no excuse-”

“You’re goddamned right, there’s no excuse! I don’t give a shit if god and his whole fucking choir of angels came down from heaven and divinely called you to give them a makeover! What were you thinking?!”

You’re about to answer, though you comprehend her query is more or less rhetorical. She interrupts your slightly open mouth while gesturing wildly, proving your point.

“Oh, that’s right! You weren’t thinking at all, were you?! But I do believe you’ve thought long and hard about what’s at stake here. And you know damn well we at Vought don’t tolerate this kind of sloppy behavior. Not to mention the way you’re dressed! It’s adding insult to injury!” Her hand swipes at the air, the length of your outfit, and you glance down, recognizing how comically mismatched you are. Her correct observation affects you more than it would have months prior, stinging your ego- one of the many things that’s been shelved in order to accommodate the person who won’t even grace you with a glance.

A dramatic groan cuts short any further commentary from the redhead, perpetually stretched thin between her absurd duties.

“Jesus Christ, Ashley, why are your big fucking horse gums still flapping?” Homelander’s booming voice slices through your mind like a jarring, dense migraine. He pinches his brow between middle finger and thumb, eyes closed. “I want you and Tweedledee and Tweedledum t’get the fuck out. Now.”

Ashley is plainly dumbfounded, struggling to see where she went wrong (a pattern when it comes to dealing with the volatile leader of The Seven), mouth agape. She shakes her head. “But sir, are you-?”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about or doing. Clearly.”

Ms. Barrett turns a shade paler, staring at Homelander and blinking owlishly before snapping herself out of her stupor. She hurries her lackeys out of the room, shooing them along like a pair of misbehaving toddlers. She doesn’t give a final look, no further warning. She merely shuts the door behind her.

You also hear it lock.

What the hell does she think is going to happen?

You should have stopped this while you had the chance. You should have never taken this job. You should have stood up for yourself and walked out. You should have you should have you should-

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

His caustic tone sends shivers down your spine. It’s unlike anything you’ve heard come out of him. And you’ve heard enough.

Again, you open your mouth. It fills with blood, thick and metallic and more potent than the mint from your gum. You’re silenced by it.

He stalks toward you and grabs you hastily by the shoulders, swiveling you around so you’re face-to-face with the choices you’ve made. Your mirrored image is reflected back at you, exhausted and searching for any last shred of who you might be beneath his heavy palms.

“Look at yourself! Do you even recognize who’s staring back at you?” No.

“What kind of game are you playing, hmmm? Is this… humiliating spectacle you’re putting on for the money? Your pathetic career? Like it’s goddamned rocket science to pick up a can of hairspray and use it. Monkeys have hands.” He makes a noise that’s akin to a snorting horse, exhaling forcefully past his nostrils. “I mean, did you really think you could pull a fast one on me?” He clutches your jaw, squeezing it between middle and thumb. Every muscle in your body tenses, your heart picking up rhythm.

“Spit that fucking gum out. Don’t think I can’t hear you grinding it between your molars like a dumb animal. You aren’t a mama bird, are you? Y’don’t have cute little baby birds t’force-feed your regurgitated leftovers, do you? Eugh, gross.”

You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose. It presents you with a false sense of security. You do as you’re told, and it lands on the floor in front of your shoe, saliva dangling on a thread as withered as your sanity.

Suddenly fresh breath seems like the most insignificant issue, when Homelander himself once made it out to be something earth-shattering.

You’re such a fool.

He leans in and sniffs your throat. Your fingers lengthen and bend.

You’re so many things at once. Confused, angry, nervous, scared. And, to your dismay, warm. God you’re so fucking warm. He’s heating you up from the inside out. You clench your jaw, still held in place by a firm bind.

“Get rid of those ugly clothes. I don’t care what you have to do. I can’t stand the sight or smell of them.”

You shut your eyes. When you open them, all you see is red. The other emotions are smothered in favor of that brand of heat. What happens next is a blur. You temporarily leave yourself.

“Fine. Have it your way, Homelander. You always do.”

Breaking free of his fluctuating hold, you start tearing at what you’re wearing, tossing everything- including your bra and underwear- to the ground. Your shirt winds up with the gum sticking to its loose fabric. You even take your shoes and socks off, not paying any heed to where your belongings go. Just that they’re gone.

You don’t process the glaring fact that you made yourself naked in front of your boss. In front of the most powerful man this country, and possibly world, has known. You don’t care that things have escalated this far. That they shouldn’t have. They shouldn’t have. But guess what? They did. And these are the consequences you both have to deal with.

“You wanna know what game I’m playing?” You turn around, forcing him backward. “It’s funny, I thought you’d be able to answer that for me, considering all the hoops I’ve had to jump through to not only save my ass, but make sure you had someone to talk to at the end of the day! Who on your team can you say goes above and beyond like that for you?!” He blinks at you now, eyes wide. Features fall to the floor where your clothes reside. You have his full and undivided attention.

An impressively dangerous thing to have.

“What more do you want from me, Homelander? I practically live with you without any of the benefits that usually includes! You’re really going to stand here and berate me like I haven’t given you fucking everything you’ve ever asked me for? Because I made one mistake? I gave up my entire world, which I know doesn’t mean shit to you. But it does to me.”

You fold your arms over your chest. Nothing covers it. You have to know before you lose all dignity. So you ask once more, hoping it won’t get lost in this bizarre mess.

“What do you want from me?”

Nothing. He can’t stop staring at you. You aren’t aware enough to be ashamed, but you are aware enough to be upset.

His infuriating silence compels you to bend down and gather what was a barrier between the two of you. You are no longer needed if he can’t do what he does best, which is spout off, leaking bottled words everywhere like a broken faucet. It’s a pretty simple question, you think.

That’s when the glass behind you shatters.

You flinch, pause what you’re doing and slowly stand. Cautious in whatever your next approach will be.

Surveying the aftermath, you’re relieved to find that you’re far enough away from the mirror so no injuries were inflicted.

When you finally lock eyes with the source, you see red. The atmosphere surrounding you heaves like the distended belly of a rotting corpse; hisses like an overflowing tea kettle; pierces you like lightning.

Homelander’s expression is rigid. His jaw quivers. Irises are a bright, shining scarlet. If you try anything rash, you might be next. But, having been around him for so long, you’re more inclined to believe he’s having trouble processing his own emotions. And that might have been one of the only ways to release them.

You drop the top and pants you managed to reclaim. Your brain hasn’t fully recovered from the constant devastating hit it’s taken, so you don’t want to put a name to what’s pushing you forward. You don’t stop until you’re directly in his line of vision.

Swallowing, you carefully extend your hand. The ruby color begins to crumble and give way to the vast ocean you might have drowned in one too many times. You lost track, blocking what you could out. Too real and intimate to accept for a realm that thrives off of inauthenticity and misfortune.

Homelander inhales harshly and you retreat, pupils hooking themselves to his. Searching for any sign you shouldn’t be right where you are.

Of course there are several; unfortunately, you are currently blind to them. Blind to everything but him.

That’s how it’s been for awhile, hasn’t it?

He has a habit of not granting you the luxury of time.

Quickly, he snatches your wrist and brings your palm flat against his cheek. He exhales, eyelids fluttering, nuzzling into you.

It’s so simple, yet it disarms you in ways you aren’t accustomed to.

Homelander basks in this chaste display of affection, and so do you, in awe of how enraptured he appears. Soaking you inside of his pores.

In turn, your cognizance reappears. You nearly topple over, realization infiltrating every part of you.

You’re not wearing a stitch.

A knock at the door startles you both. You glance over in that general direction and hear from the other side, “You’re on in fifteen, Homelander, sir!”

Gazing back up at him, you witness that same fire expand at a rapid rate. You use your other hand to bring him back down to reality, to ground him. It rests against his chest, delving into and cracking his ribs, flaying him open.

What strikes you is how vigorously his heart is beating. How you can feel it through his uniform.

This is how much you affect him. (Can you fathom that you’re only privy to a fraction?) Having evidence of the tiniest reciprocation drains you of any unwanted discomfort.

His fury subsides. You breathe out. He does, too.

“Go sit in your chair. I came here to do my job, after all.” The tenderness with which you speak seems to ease him further, his shoulders deflating with each word.

That aside, you’re playing with a lit match. You’re unsure who’s going to set who ablaze, but you’re willing to go down with this entire building to find out.

He does as he’s told, watching you the whole way like a mutilated mixture of a snarling cornered animal and a man fervently in love. He almost trips into his seat, not an ounce of grace in his gait.

Sacrificing his entire image just to get a glimpse of you.

Whipping his cape to the side, he sinks into the cushion. You get things ready as you typically do, your movements a bit jittery from the adrenaline sending haphazard jolts to your limbs. Despite this, you’re focused. You are more focused than you remember ever being.

You work efficiently, keeping in mind the limit that’s been put on your time.

Homelander bores holes through you. He doesn’t need lasers for that. You’re exposed and vulnerable and he pries what he fostered apart until it’s distinguishable by no one else but him.

You relearn his perfectly manufactured features. Different lights shape shadows you either haven’t seen before or feigned ignorance of. You commit to memory how he looks, smells, feels, the side of your hand grazing his cheek and hanging on.

He’s invigorating, your excitement building to a crescendo you can’t neglect. The heat in your core disperses, most of it congregating low in your belly and behind your expanding rib cage. His pupils drink you in, urgently and violently.

Your arousal is heady. He licks his lips. A hint of a whine caresses your ears and it makes you dizzy.

How could you have ever denied yourself?

You decide to take further control, testing the waters to a greater extent.

It’s your turn to watch him the whole way down. You straddle him, easing yourself atop his taut thighs.

After a few moments of humoring yourself, of pretending to concentrate on your work, dusting his nose with powder, you straighten. Eye contact has not been severed.

You motion toward his hands, balled into tense, repressed fists at his sides.

“Take off your gloves.”

Initially, it feels like maybe you said the wrong thing, or said it the wrong way. He doesn’t budge. You’re patient, however, so you wait like you’ve always done, the warmth from your cunt mingling with the hardness beneath you. Your mouth waters.

At last, Homelander nods and removes his gloves, tugging on the index of each. He places them on the armrests and transfixes himself to you once more.

“Do you want to touch me?” you ask, voice and body staying impossibly still in spite of your nerves.

Immediately, he shakes his head, “Yes,” the first time he’s spoken since your outburst, and without hesitation, reaches for your chest. You close your eyes, falling into his snooping lifts and tugs and squeezes, giving yourself permission to become possessed by the inhibited imaginations of how selfish, how rapacious his touches might be. How smooth his bare hands are, how ardent each digit is.

Leaning into you, he sucks one nipple into his mouth and palms the other, moaning and vibrating against your flesh. He digs his fingers into the pliant softness of your hip, steadying you with disciplined pressure. You squirm, attuned to every minuscule shift.

The lit match is tilted toward you now, swift and stunning. Your fingers release the brush you’ve been holding. It aligns with the slit of the cushion, forgotten and purposeless.

You wrap your digits around the hand on your curves and guide him toward your throbbing center. He doesn’t fight you. Doesn’t stop your movements. Doesn’t scold or challenge you. Instead, he curls his fingers in a way that makes you unabashedly moan, cupping your folds and pinning his thumb to your clit, adapting to your anatomy.

Your wants.

It seems like breaking away from you is a daunting task, but he does for a moment, brow furrowed, more engrossed and invested than you’ve ever witnessed.

“Fuck.” The curse sounds downright edible, your new favorite flavor. Your name tumbles from his lips like he’s been practicing, a sweet, rich icing on top. You gasp, his tongue adhering to you again, swirling around your peak before lightly biting it.

Rocking your hips back and forth, side-to-side, you grind hard into his palm. He strokes you like he’s studied what pace you prefer, how much friction you crave. You’re so wet, even you’re thrown off by it.

Once he’s finished with your chest, he’s back against the seat, unable to peel his gaze from you. Your full, swollen, glistening breasts.

His mouth hangs open, obscene, desperate whimpers slipping from it. Pupils are like whirlpools that drive you under. Drive you mad.

Homelander adeptly slips two, three digits inside your sopping cunt, unrelenting in his intentions to make up for lost time. The voracity of his actions propels you forward, balancing against his chest. He grasps and pulls at your other hip, groaning loudly in your ear, confirming his approval of how close you are to him.

It’s still not enough.

Pulling you even tighter to his blinding sun of a body, he encloses his free arm around you and desperately bucks his waist. “I want… I want… I want…” he chants. Your nails drag up his neck and along his scalp, overwhelmed by his warmth, his scent, him. Your lips ghost the sliver of skin above his collar, making him growl.

You anticipate and dread and yearn for what’s been building for so long. You clench and release, clench and release, clench and release, body chanting with him.

You’re intuitively thankful for the chair’s sturdiness; however, if it would have collapsed, you’re honestly not sure you would have noticed. Or cared.

You hear him come first. Feel the temperature rise temporarily. It’s so sudden and all-consuming that you naturally follow, his name an instinct you can’t help but divulge. You haven’t come down from the turbulent emotions rushing through you earlier, and that combination catapults you over the edge.

Your orgasm draws more deliberate, vehement grunts and sighs of satisfaction from him, as if your pleasure is inexplicably the same or worth more than his.

You can’t crumple into a boneless heap like you want to. You just can’t. You have to look at him. Look at his bliss; the glazed, barren-yet-so-full-of-you expression, of what these months of working in close quarters have done to him.

What you uncover is not what you were picturing. There’s a mixture of that haze with something almost apologetic below the teeming surface. Clouds of red to skies of blue. Destructive in and of themselves.

Sliding his fingers from your wetness, he wraps his lips around each one that was inside of you and spreads them apart. Your slick sticks to his glossy skin and stretches between digits, a generous amount. You whimper at the loss- the emptying, hollow feeling- and watch, mesmerized and delirious as he savors you.

Swallowing you whole, Homelander sweeps his knuckles across the apple of your cheek and presses his lips hard against yours. He wastes no time inhaling your gasps and moans, licking your mouth and the faint taste of mint, stealing it from you. You ingest what you can of him as well, exploring what was open to you longer than you realized.

He then seizes your wrists. It’s a rough gesture that evaporates into gentle circles along your pulse points. Still, you know you’re going to bruise where he turned the key and locked you into place: wherever he is.

A visible sheen coats his lips.

“I want you to tell me I’m good. Great. The best.”

His breathing is labored. So is yours.

He kisses the inside of the wrist smeared with perfume, your fluids, his saliva; ends with your hand and rests his cheek against the slope of it.

“I want you to be mine. All mine. Mine alone.”

You’re shaking. He moves forward and pets your hair, twirls it; grabs your nape and holds his thumb to the front of your throat. Securing you. Keeping you there.

“You have to stay. Be mine and stay.”

You thrum with an ache he forced upon you. He’ll claim you were starving and he was the only one who could satiate.

You nod. You were never going to leave to begin with.

Homelander made you his. And you thanked him for it.

[kiddotarot]

SUN AND YOUR PENDING KARMIC GOALS.

Explanation = sun represents soul and self in the astrology with studying about it placement you can get what karmic goal and achievement you need to work on .

1. Sun in 1H/Aries = Aggression is the main point here it can be because in past life you are forced to develop a free will by involving war or you are forced to survive own your own thats the reson you enjoy the cut trusth competition. Your main goal is becoming aware of the unnecessary fighting spirit and take care of other needs .

2. Sun in Taurus/2H = With this placment you have a word which you use often " mine " . You think that your security and you are right place this can also lead you to not cutting your ties in unhappy marriage or environment because you don't learn that you can do better than this . Your pending karma is to learn to self security and trust yourself and make a strong rooted connection with yourself.

3. Sun in Gemini/3H = With this placment i can say in past life you are a publisher or teaching other thing related to spreading words . But it can also show that you are in gossip in past life you can share facts thst you don't even know is real or not just like a repoter. The duality is biggest problem for you . Your karmic goal is to express yourself cleary and fact check that you are communicating with right way .

4. Sun in cancer/ 4H = I don't be surprised if you get stuck in nostalgia often in a day. You take everyone and every relationship on a emotional level and often think and feel clingy to to the thing and person you feel familiar. Possessiveness can be problems here . Your pending karma is you set a stong connection with yourself and heal to the inner level.

5. Sun in leo/5H = You are the natural entertainers and may be tou don't have to work hard for this but you need a recognition from it and if don't get it then it can lead you to don't give people there importance. Your karmic goal is to use your charm in creativity and develop a positive attitude to gain popularity.

6. Sun in virgo/6H = This placment can lead you tobe a taskmaster but hard on yourself as well as on others. And main things that this can also give you fear of faliur. And it can also lead you to hating yourself on little faliur and mistake. The karmic goal is to love yourself and accept yourself regarless any flaws.

7. Sun in libra/7H = You love a place with harmonious and beautiful environment. You know when the things around you is right and when not. And often you find yourself most of the time putting efforts to make things right for others but in this process you can loose yourself. With your need to be liked it can lead you to fit in other standards. Your karmic goal is to takecare yourself in a relationship and find comfort in yourself.

8. Sun in scorpio/ 8H = with this you have a challenge to master the power . You can find yourself attracting a lot of people with your hidden side and charm . You love over power scenarios but it can also lead you again in karmic connection. Your karmic goal is controing is not an option you soul need to involve and invite the great divine.

9. Sun in sagittarius/9H = This make you a great followers of ethic and law and follow the rule but there is always a side when you feel you are not participating and involving yourself fully into new experiences. You are just taking your personal freedom. Your karmic goal is to understand the real meaning of life and live it don't just stuck in sitting examples.

10. Sun in Capricorn/10H = with this placement you need to understand that success is a state of life and mind its not a race . You need to establish or understand it from inner state outer world is not going to satisfy this need . Your karmic goal is to live with inner security and power first before giving it to other world.

11. Sun in Aquarius/ 11H = you can be always confused in the changing yourself or remain the same. Because your soul crave for changing and for this you have to take your freedom. It can lead you to become detached but it can also lead you to bad thing . Your karmic goal is to leave unhealthy things and become flexible in this matters.

12. Sun in pieces/12H = you can have a feeling to stuck in a victim mentality where you feel that you need to take care of other things or people because you feel that is the same scenarios where you feel victim like them. Your karmic goal is to develop your own lesson and path do not take anyone other to achieve wholeness.

[breadinanutshell]

I made a list of Halsin facts for my own entertainment a while back but forgot to post it. Dunno if anyone would find this interesting but in case here it is, enjoy~ o/

ACT1

-He writes in tight scribbles, smokes the pipe and loves reading (likely non-fiction). He’s the studious sort, considering his unprompted interest in the parasites and his hunger for knowledge. This aspect of him was more defined in Early Access but sadly got lost during full release. It also briefly comes up during one of his banters in later chapters.

-He rarely drinks: he’s a lightweight and gets overly affectionate when drunk. He also sings when drunk. Badly, per his word.

-Is an actual Disney princess (he has birds scouting and reporting back to him).

-He has a strong sense of duty, so much so he will stop paying attention to other aspects of his life in the pursuit of it. At least in one instance, this has been depicted as a flaw (when he abandons the grove looking for the Nightsong).

-He enjoys spending time in his bear form, and appears to have been the main caretaker for the bears in the grove. Ormn in particular acts heartbroken that Halsin is missing.

-When given the chance, he’s eager to give up his position as archdruid, as he felt it was too draining and confining. Despite his insecurities in his ability as a leader, he’s more shrewd and wise than he lets on: he can play politics when necessary. And people around him have been more than happy to rely on him. He cares about those under his protection. A lot. “The grove is everything to me”.

-He doesn’t shy away from violence when provoked.

-He feels responsible for the shadow curse, and is compelled by the need to fix everything.

-This is a relic from Early Access but you’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands: in the grove there used to be a fanfic titled “Shadow’s Kiss” written by the druid Roan that featured a certain “Balsin”. At the end of it a written entry by Halsin would threaten to feed Roan to Ormn if he ever saw the name “Balsin” again.

ACT2

-He likes open spaces, reading and whittling utensils and ornaments (ducks in particular). He’s got a sweet tooth and a fondness for honey. He finds it hurtful when he's made fun of for his interests: he admits people tend to underestimate his sensitivity.

-He’s a very religious man and invokes Silvanus any chance he gets. Even so he doesn’t believe in blind faith and chides Shadowheart for not questioning Shar’s teachings.

-He’s 350 years old.

-He has no mercy for goblins, to the point where he disapproves if you spare them in Moonrise. A bit funny, considering there’s a banter later on with Karlach where he insists that “mercy costs us nothing”.

-His scars were caused by a bear who didn’t appreciate being spurned during mating season.

-He’s a veteran who served in the battle against Ketheric Thorm in Reithwin, where eventually the druids and Harpers won. At the time he was likely second to the archdruid that led him into battle. When the shadow curse started spreading, said archdruid died, leaving Halsin in charge. He immediately evacuated the survivors. He still feels guilty for not being able to help more that day. From one of his party banters it’s clear Halsin suffers from survivor’s guilt. He’s lost many friends to the curse, so many in fact that “it would take a day and a night to recite the names of the fallen”.

-Considering how obsessed he’s been with the curse ravaging the land for the past 100 years, it’s unlikely he had any intimate connections during this period of time. He also claims that more good has been done since meeting Tav than in the 100 years before their meeting.

-His family is dead and buried at the foot of the Grandfather Tree in High Forest.

-He seems used to changing environments and affiliations. Once recruited, he’s quick to call Tav his new family.

-He remains polite in the face of scorn and ridicule. Right when he joins if you suggest all he’s good for is cleaning camp he responds with an awkward chuckle and a “wherever you need me”. Later in Act 3 his affections can be brusquely turned down by comparing him to a deep rothé, to which he calmly responds “a simple no would have sufficed”.

-As a child he befriended Thaniel, a spirit of nature, and ever since then he felt a higher calling. Thaniel appears to be as fond of Halsin as Halsin is of Thaniel, mentioning him often to Fist Art Cullagh during their imprisonment in the Shadowfell.

-He is the only expert of shadow curse alive, and if killed in Act 1 the curse cannot be lifted.

ACT3

-He believes himself, or at the very least aims to be, a protector. Any failure (or perceived failure) in fulfilling said role leads him to spirals of self doubt and insecurity. His self worth is heavily dependent on how useful he can be, and without a big purpose or mission to fulfill, he appears lost. In the same vein he seems incapable of staying still and relax, he always needs something to focus on.

-In true druid spirit, he considers cities to be intruding on nature’s realm. On his arrival to Baldur’s Gate, he's appalled and disgusted by the class inequality encountered in the city. He’s disturbed by the suffering of children, in particular.

-When called naive for his dream of a better future he mentions he gave up cynicism when he was 200 years old.

-He’s all for heckling Dribbles’ corny jokes.

-He sees his body as a vessel and his physical prowess as a tool. He takes no pride in it.

-He admits that he didn’t realize how much his responsibilities had been weighting on him until Tav showed up and took that burden away.

-He’s polyamorous, and pretty lax when it comes to sex and relationships: he has no qualms in taking pleasure where “desire finds purchase”. He mentions that he had many lovers in the past and that his heart doesn’t stir lightly. This might imply he’s laid with many, but cared for few. He also doesn’t appear thrilled by the prospect of marriage/tying yourself forever to someone. For a man so against putting a relationship into words, he acts incredibly smitten when romanced and showers his partner in all kinds of sweet praises.

-He’s so attuned to his wildshape that he tends to lose control of his transformations when overcome by strong emotions (i.e. anger, arousal). He appears embarrassed when this accidentally happens in an intimate situation. He does enjoy wildshape during intercourse though, as he even proposes it himself during an interaction with Shadowheart. Per his word, he doesn’t discriminate against any type: in an interaction with Lae'zel he implies he slept with a chimera.

-He considers lust to be the most essential of impulses and feels it’s only natural to be guided by it.

-He’s travelled far and wide. Where we do not know, unfortunately. He mentions he’s been to the Underdark many times and possibly the Nelanther Isles. In his youth he ventured into the Underdark to sate his own wanderlust, where he got captured, enslaved and sexually abused by drows for 3 years.

-He’s self aware of his obsession with nature. When Jaheira warns him not to fall into druid stereotypes, he comments that he does think about other topics such as high art and politics, but to him nothing compares to a tree.

-When speaking of his past, he comments that people seem to focus on the more “salacious chapters” and disregard his years of study. When confronted about it, he seems perfectly content with a life spent studying, meditating, counselling, fighting, training and fucking.

-He used to hibernate as a bear and mentions he spent at least 100 years of his life sleeping. It’s unclear if he’s still in the habit.

-At the end of the campaign he sets out to create a new community in Reithwin with the victims of war and refugees that were turned away from the city. The children of this soon-to-be-founded community refer to him as “daddy Halsin”.

-He considers himself an exceedingly patient man.

[bella-goths-wife]

Yandere Vees x platonic reader

Vox, velvette and Valentino x reader

Warnings: Valentino

Okay so you know how I move through stories so much because I hyperfixate on something and become obsessed with it? Well guess who watched the hazbin hotel show after watching the pilot episode years ago. And I saw so much yandere potential.

So let me know if you enjoy this and if I should make more.

You were quite a modern soul, with you dying around the 2010s

And you died quite young at the age of 18

So when you get to hell your pretty scared and confused, with no one around who could help you

So you did what you could to live, by surviving off scraps and sleeping rough on the streets

That also leads you into a life of crime as you relayed on robberies and mugging people to get enough cash to afford to eat for the week

But on day you make the grand mistake of trying to mug an overlord

Vox was simply trying to avoid paparazzi by going through the back alleys, that’s until he hears loud music out of no where

See, when you got to hell you were given your own special ability the same way the others had

Your ability was Turntablism

Which essentially means you could manipulate and create new sounds from your environment, similar to how a DJ can use turntables to manipulate and create new music from existing sounds

This means you could silence or enhance sounds around a demon and that you would be able to create a sound from the environment, such as loud music, and it would be able to discombobulate or entertain the demons around you

So you silenced your footsteps before surprising vox by blasting loud rave music to confuse him as you grabbed his wallet and phone before hightailing it out of there

Of course that doesn’t work, vox watches you through the phone as he decides how to deal with you

He sees you climb into your ‘home’ which is in fact a cardboard box built around a dumpster with a small pit outside of it for fires

You intrigued him for some reason and he thought there was no harm in watching you for a few days before he decided what to do with you

He watched how you used your ability to survive and how you were actually white street smart

Eventually, he came to a decision

He appeared to you and claimed that you owed him a debt for stealing his wallet, before offering you a job as his assistant with a room in the vee tower in exchange for you soul

You were extremely cautious of him so you denied his deal, until he points out the fact that you were a young homeless girl who had stolen from a well known celebrity who could easily have killed you

So you shake his hand and your soul is officially voxs

He stuck true to his word and gave you a small room near his in the vee tower, and even if it seemed small to him it was the biggest room you’d ever slept in before

Vox explained the daily tasks he wanted you to be able to complete while you worked there and explained how he wanted to combine his hypnosis with your ability to make it so that the voxtech jingles would be more persuasive and would make more buyers come in

You nodded your head with the doubt that it would work stuck in your mind, but vox owned your soul now and you had to do what he said

He eventually introduced you to his business partners, velvette and Valentino

Velvette could not give less of a shit about you and just barked her coffee order at you

Valentino on the other hand tried to offer you a job in his studio but vox warned him that your soul was already owned, so val settled on just pouting while ordering you to fetch him some lunch

You worked with them for a few months and it wasn’t all bad

Sure, they were all demanding people who would hurl abuse at you if you got something wrong, but vox provided you with food, shelter and clothes so you couldn’t complain really

They all grew accustomed to your presence, so much so that when you weren’t around they had the strange feeling of missing something from their daily routines

Being vox’s assistant was hard because it practically made you all of their assistant, because we all know the vees share everything

So some days you’d work closely with vox, and others you’d be in vals dressing room to assist him with scripts or choosing actors for certain projects (vox told val that you were too young to be in the studio, which you were eternally grateful for)

And other days you’d be with velvette as she scoffed for the millionth time at the fashion designers attempts to please her

Velvette liked having another young eye to look at the designs, she’d never admit that she respects your opinion in a million years though

Eventually after working for the vees for a few months, you held a reputation in the offices

You’d hear your bosses workers whisper the nickname ‘pet’ as you trailed after one of the vees with a schedule in hand

You hated it but you decided to just put up with it, it’s not like you had any authority to be able to do anything about it anymore

But the whispers of your coworkers reached the ears of your bosses and they all seemed to have a shocking reaction

When they sat down and talked about it, they realised that they do view you as more of a pet than a worker

And how they seemed to need you around in some capacity to be able to go about their days normally

That’s when their obsessions began

And you had a long, dark road ahead of you

This is probably trash 😭

But this is just a rough idea of what I’m trying to do so I have loads more ideas

Let me know if you’d be interested :)

[hotxcheeto]

im begging for a fic with ellie about tribbing i don't even care about the plot at this point i just an ellie fic with scissoring

━ 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀, 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ?

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, ex gf!ellie, angst here and there, SMUT, tribbing, kissing/make out session, lowkey toxic behavior, mentions and situations with alcohol, both ellie and reader are tipsy, party environment in the first 1/2, top!ellie, bottom!reader

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - ehhehehehehe i love olivia rodrigo so i had to bruh REQUESTS ARE OPEN NOW!

REBLOG MY WORK! I WORK HARD & IT'S APPRECIATED!!

Music bumped in the room on the other side of the wall that supported the upper cabinet that held your head. The smell of sweat, alcohol and cigarettes filled up the small kitchen to the brim while a few people laughed and chugged the concoction in the punch bowl that sat on the corner countertop.

Other than the patrons drinking themselves into a very horrible morning that was soon to come, there was a couple making out against the fridge. Bothering anyone that wanted to drink something other than what the party host called, 'the ultimate punch to the gut' that the college boys were frothing over.

You decided on something else that you'd scavenged from the liquor cabinet that had been broken into earlier in the night. The liquid a pink color, bubbling from the continued sloshing in your red solo cup that was lazily hanging from your hand.

Your head felt dizzy at all the uproar in the room, the only thing keeping your two feet flat on the ground was the girl in front of you. Chasing your gaze with her head that way with each direction you looked, her eyes weren't far behind to follow.

"I told you I'm done, Ellie. I'm sick of your shit." You slurred slightly, having swayed your hips on far too many people and had too many drinks to care about how you currently sounded.

Or looked for that matter, lipstick smudged across your lips and even had made its way off your mouth. Eye makeup mirroring the appearance of the lower half of your face and all the while your dress was halfway up your thighs from her prying and your continuous attempts to stop yourself from making a decision you'd regret.

"You're a fakeass bitch, y'know that?" You pointed at her, the manicure that she had in fact paid for practically mocking her as she grabbed your hand and pushed it down, holding it in her own.

"Don't be like that, babe." You rolled your eyes at just the sound of her voice, suddenly hearing it and comparing it to the biggest annoyance in the world. "You were like that first, or did you already discard the lap warmer you were entertaining when I walked in?"

Right, the bottle blonde with the bad roots.

"Y/n..." She dragged out your name with that excruciating tone that made you feel like you'd done something bad. "Answer me Ellie."

She opened and closed her mouth for a second, not meeting your eyes before shrugging her shoulders. The black fabric of her long sleeve button up going with, pissing you off even more as the realization set in that she'd worn your favorite of her nice shirts and even undone the top few buttons you always undid for her.

"She's one of Abby's friends, fuck Y/n, I don't even know her name I promise." You scoffed, leaning your head back on the cupboard, looking over at the drunk guys challenging each other to drink a full cup of the punch once again.

"You piss me off." You rubbed your eyes, not caring of the slight burn that your lashes caused on your irises. "I know. C'mon, I said sorry." She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You sent me fifty-eight text messages, I don't remember there being a 'sorry' in there though." "Babe-" Ellie stopped when she realized you were in fact not paying any attention to her now, looking out the kitchen window, but it was too dark to actually see anything past the glass.

"C'mon... let's just go home, I'll give you the best apology fucking ever." The alcohol really boosted her confidence as she said this, Ellie moving to kiss up your neck as you thought, her thumb coming to wipe the smeared lipstick away.

"I promise, babe." You wanted to fall against her and give in, just how you wanted when you seen her earlier eye-fucking you from across the room. Fucking hell you were such a gullible mess.

"Ellie..." "Can't tell me you don't miss my fingers..." "Shh!"

You tried covering her mouth but it was no use as she just laughed, looking down at your pretty eyes while you tried to shut her up.

"I don't, mine work just fine, actually." Such fakeness followed those syllables, even you cringed slightly on the inside as you spoke them.

"Huh, so you're lying to me now too?"

"No..." Yes.

"You're a bad liar." She then whispered, impossible to hear her if you had not been so close to her mouth. "You're a dickhead." You then replied, giving her a smile while pulling back.

That was nothing to her, leaning forward despite your unwillingness just earlier, but something about the way you met her lips wondered if you changed your mind.

She tasted like the shitty alcohol mix those dudes were chugging along with soaked in Chapstick and the two combined creating a rush of memories that came trickling back. Those pictures soon invading your mind all the same, fingers wrapping around her belt loops before you got a chance to stop them.

And in the haze of the smoky kitchen you broke your promise to each of your friends promising you wouldn't go back. Tugging her closer and allowing her to rest her hands beneath your ass, holding the backs of your thighs to get impossibly closer.

She was your everything and nothing, the mess stuck between your floorboards that you could never fully get rid of. Ellie knew she wasn't going anywhere, she couldn't and wouldn't be replaced and it was comforting, smirking as she began pushing herself against you and hitting your hips against the counter.

"M'not-" A kiss. "-gonna fuck you-" Another kiss. "-here." You finished, her tongue invading your mouth as soon as the final breath passed your lips. "Why not?" "Seriously?" Ellie rested her forehead against your own, huffing like a child until you tapped her phone that was in her back pocket.

"You can start your apology by buying the ride home, 'kay?"

God, the things she did to see you as you were now, laid back on the bed with your dress pulled up and your head resting against her pillows. Thighs spread all for her while you stared up and watched her unbuckle her belt and unzip her jeans. Wanting nothing more than to have her between your thighs

You just looked so gorgeous in the lamplight, the yellow glow kissing your skin and she moved to kiss it as well. Wanting just as much as the inanimate object had gotten in the past few moments.

"M'gonna be so mad at myself in the morning." You grumbled playfully, Ellie watching you grin at your own prediction, returning the smile while throwing her shirt away and exposing her torso for you to run your eyes over. "But I don't even care." You concluded.

Your nail ran along the light bulge her muscles created on her arms, eyes fluttering shut while her lips made their home on your neck. Jaw becoming her favorite place to hover, smirking against your flesh when you giggled that it had tickled. Looking at the way her boxers met her lower back, little dimples just barely shadowed.

"Ellie?" She pulled back to look at you, cradling your face in her hands.

"Yeah?"

"Unzip me, I wanna feel you."

She didn't have to be told twice, helping you from your dress before tossing it to find the next morning. Your undergarments going with, swept away like they were stolen by the ocean. Your body running against hers as if you were the waves and she were the rocks, though less jagged then you'd like to admit out loud.

Her curves were softer than you remembered despite feeling them just days ago, along with her freckled skin.

"I want you." She whispered, mouth brushing against the shell of your ear.

Your friends were so gonna put you in time out.

Her boxers fell down her legs and yours wrapped around her hips, waiting for the agonizing thumping of your arousal to be put at ease. The discomfort growing while her fingers ran along your nipple, warm breath fanning your face as you both watched her hand run along your boob.

It was like the air paused along with your movements, sucking in a gasp as she played with your breast. Hand trickling down between your legs just to barely tease you.

"You wanna feel me?" You nodded at her question, moving your head up and down again and again while she lined herself up with you. Fingers lightly, just barely, brushing against your little, yet swollen, clit.

"Need to hear you say it again, Y/n."

"I wanna feel you, Ellie."

And before you knew it she was humping herself against you, not even attempting to muffle your sounds which you'd given up caring about. Grabbing at her back and holding her as close to you as possible while her clit bumped and rubbed against your own.

It felt like fireworks, despite having done this just over a million times. Burying your face in her neck while she fucked into you over and over, promising her love silently while whispering things that would make a catholic mother weep.

"Missed you so much..." You turned your head, meeting her eyes as your lips did the same. "Me or this?" You asked, a choked whimper following when she became rougher at the sound of your falsely innocent question. Her hand trapping your leg on the bed as she spread you apart.

"Both, but mainly you." She played off, her other hand softly wrapping around your neck. "I would hope." You giggled, mouth dropping agape as her pace picked up. The whole bed rocking back and forth while simultaneous creaks that were sure to piss off her neighbors for the next however long she spent on top of you.

"Oh fuck, El... fuck please..." You squeezed and clawed at her, sure to leave red marks on her pale skin for her to be teased about when she went to the gym. Cunts grinding back and forth creating a heavenly feeling you just couldn't describe, choking out noise after noise.

"El... m'gonna- fuck I- fuck..." She kissed along the column of your throat, squeezing just the slightest. "I know." From your hole to your bundle of nerves, in your slightly inebriated state it felt like too much.

Sounds you weren't aware you could make falling from your mouth, and you were sure you heard her lightly grunt. Hips stuttering as you'd begun to jerk against her pussy, letting out a yelp while you trickled into your orgasm.

A mix of both you and her dripping down your ass, but it didn't stop you from trying to meet her thrusts. Crying a bit when she slammed you back down, kissing you and then down your chest.

"Leah's gonna be so pissed at me." You huffed, staring up at the ceiling as she peeled herself off of you and fell to the side. Giving you the option of moving to lay with her or finding your way the hell out of here.

"Who cares? Come ride me." She said, sitting up against her pillows that laid against her headboard. "Seriously?' You tilted your head up to glance at her, giving her your best unimpressed expression.

"What? Can't take it back anyway."

This was a bad idea, right?

"Will you eat me out after?" You asked, tilting your head and then rolling over to make your way up to her. "If you do a good job." She said, setting her hands on your hips.

Fuck it, it's fine.

a/n: YES I KNOW THAT SHE'S MY EX BUT CAN'T TWO PEOPLE RECONNECT I ONLY SEE HER AS A FRIEND! BIGGEST LIE I EVER SAID.

REQUESTS OPEN

[rosesdrop]

Pick a weapon

What do they like about you

(Note: remember, this is a general reading so not everything is going to resonate perfectly, I might open personal reading services later, but for now, enjoy your reading ⭐❤💞)

Pile 1:

You have such luminous skin, there's possibly an age gap between you and this person, they like your resting bitch face, and how stubborn you are, such a gloomy mood that gives off adam's family and these sorts of gothic vibes, you've got sleepy eyes that are mesmerizing, and such a hard temperament, you're hard to please in this person's eyes, you make them so overwhelmed with all the kinds of moods that you carry within you, it makes this person have a hard time understanding you, you are always trying new things and it's just too much for this person, they have no idea where you get all this energy from. It could even be that you're from a different ethnicity and this person tries to understand you better, it makes them curious about you and they like it. Even when you talk it's too hard catching up with you, you're so expansive about all the topics in your conversation, you like to discuss all kinds of different subjects, this person adores that, they see how philosophical you are. They don't understand your mind, they're having such a hard time figuring you out pile 1 😂, it's such a struggle they're trying so hard, but they like it, the fact that you are bigger than the sun itself, how much you can overwhelm them and they get so burned out by your energy(I don't mean it in a negative way), the fact that you're not a force to be wreckend with. They just feel like you're too much for them to handle. You're most likely either a fire or an air sign. They mainly like your mood states , your emotional and temperamental center, it's so dramatic and entertaining. Your effect is just fatal on them, you're even making them have physical reactions upon how charged up they get around you, the reason for that could be that you have expansive energetic field, some of you could also have bigger and more curvier bodies. An additional message that I'm getting is that you get influenced by the moon cycles, you possibly get more energetic and lively that normal at night.

Pile 2:

You are very graceful in the way you talk, you may be sending blessings to people around you constantly and praying for others. They like your beauty, they find you to be just 'pretty'. They also like how wise you are, if you wear dresses this person likes seeing them on you, you are maybe on the shorter side and they find your height to be cute. Earth signs. They like how courageous you are, you can be so calm and steady when facing adversities and they find this so strong from you, you are the type of person that has a silent strength to them. You are so solid , so sure of yourself that it's hard to shake you. You always have the right sense of what to do. They like your smell, if you wear some kind of perfume they really like the smell of it. You could always be scoring the highest grades at any work you do, you're always so productive, and if you like cooking, you make the best food ever. This person sees you as self-reliant and self-sufficient, someone that doesn't like wasting much time on nonesense, and a person that keeps to themselves, and again, that makes them see you as very smart and wise.

Pile 3:

They like how sensitive you are to the environment around you, and how overly critical you are of everything, you might like crime movies that awaken your investigator side, to find clues and solve riddles. If you have green eyes specifically they like them, also how you put on your makeup. You're unapologetic in everything you do, you do whatever you want to do anyways, they're fascinated by that, it's like, you give the sense that you are elusive about what you want to do, especially the way you act about things, but you surprise them with the results, you may seem like you're just playing around at first impression but then this person gets impressed by the things you can achieve. You don't ask much from people. You're very unpredictable to this person, they think that you're a lucky and special person, unlike anyone else they've ever known.

Pile 4:

You're older than this person, or they like your maturity. They like how friendly you are, you give off this sense of familiarity to them and they feel welcomed and well treated in your presence and they respect you for that. You have an inspirational impact on this person, they take your words to heart, and they resonate with them, they give them space for creative pursuits and create space for new ideas in their mentality. If this person felt misunderstood and lost in the past you give them a new vision, a better one. The color black and gothic type of clothing fits you in their view, they think you're aloof and eccentric, you have a sharp mind but your ideas for them-they have a hard time organizing every thought proposed by you according to the actual situation, your thinking is superior for them.

[cleanearthfunfacts]

25 posts!

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Clean Earth Fun Facts

[auspicioustidings]

Devil's Trumpet

AKA the Appalachian horror brain worms would not leave me alone

Summary: You move to small town West Virginia to get your head on straight but the men in the woods start unravelling you instead.

Words: 3.5k

CWs: mild horror, vague reference to mental illness

This is best read while listening to some Southern gothic tunes 🎶 I suggest Big Dark Love by Murder by Death!

Colour leeched out of the world here. There is something almost comforting about that, something familiar. Familiar too is the way this town moves like syrup too thick to be pleasant in your mouth. It was how you moved though the world once. Not anymore though, no, now your mind is your own and not an invading force. Now you can appreciate the drab slowness as something external to yourself, just an environment around you and not a prison closing in inside your head.

There wasn’t much of a plan really. A will reading that left you with not a lot, but enough to get the hell out. Signing with a fountain pen that made your skin crawl with how it scratched. A stiff drink and a dart thrown at a map and tearing a ragged hole in the Greenbrier River as the sharp point didn’t quite sink far enough into the board and tore its way through the paper on the way down. You were never any good at darts.

You aren’t putting down roots. Those were for old growth, not for hardy weeds that broke through concrete and always found another crack through which to grow when killed. Nothing that felt too much like a home, so instead a room at the only inn.

This town is too small to warrant one, but it doubles as a watering hole come evening. It doesn’t seem to have been updated in an age, you wonder idly if the plaque upkept to a gleaming shine declaring the inn to have been opened in 1824 is somehow conveying pride at the fact. The peeling wallpaper in your room was probably pretty once, but the green now seems sick with age and the delicate floral pattern has started to wilt.

There is no routine to your days here until one slowly creeps in as it always does.

Breakfast first. You don’t know if it’s something in the air here, but you wake up with a bitter taste in your mouth and are eager to drown it in food and mint toothpaste. The inn has a small kitchenette for guest use and you make yourself toast with butter and strawberry jam. It’s a little too sweet but the tea helps, black with no sugar.

You stretch out the back of the inn and enjoy the view of the woods. You don’t call it yoga because it makes you less likely to do it, but you had learned when things were bad that quietly engaging your body in the morning was a good way to quiet your mind. There’s a little tension in the back of your neck you try to work out but it sticks there until you finish up and go back inside to shower. The hot water fixes it you think.

The first few weeks here you just sit and watch the world go by, but then you one day you decide to get up and spend some time wandering the town. It’s small, decrepit. There is the inn, a few sparse houses, one general store. The library, despite being the only venue with any chance of entertainment, is usually empty. You meet Mrs Lela Kaletaws who runs it, although she isn’t always around.

Roads here are barely holding together, but the one main road that runs out of town is at least in somewhat better condition. It runs parallel with the woods at one point, curving off just past old Mr Kleer's house. The man in question usually sits on his porch but he’s friendly enough so you don’t pay much mind to the gun.

After you’ve wandered town you make sandwiches for lunch. It isn’t much exciting, but it is routine and is filling enough that you bunker down for a nap after.

In the afternoon you go for a long walk before returning to the inn for dinner. There is a bar downstairs that opens in the evenings and serves food that while not a delicacy by any means is hot and filling. You retire to your room, read some of your book and go to sleep.

It continues that way. Breakfast, stretch, shower, wander, lunch, sleep, walk, dinner, read, sleep.

At first you only really skirt the edge of the woods, but with each passing dreary day you venture closer to the depths down the packed dirt path. The path through the woods is confusing and unmarked. Where you swore just yesterday it went to the right, today it goes to the left. Even so it must be your sense of direction, because the path always leads you past the jimsonweeds that come up to you chest before spitting you out on the road that leads to old Mr Kleer's house. The flowers are beautiful, but there is some metallic tang to their otherwise sweet scent that causes your teeth to ache.

—

More comfortable with the area now, it causes a fright when you see a man in the woods just in the corner of your eye only to snap your head around and have him vanish. You force calming breathes and keep walking. There is no such thing as ghosts in these woods.

Old man Axell calls to you from his porch as you pass, rifle butt settled on the rickety wood that you worry will collapse and left leg stretched straight out towards you like reaching for something.

“Seeing things in the woods kid?”

“I look spooked sir?”

“Like you’ve seen a Ghost I reckon.”

You give a shaky laugh at that.

“Only if ghosts come in flesh and blood and quick feet. Some man gave me a fright is all.”

“Must be out of towners” Axell says.

You do not like the way he says it. You do not like that he looks at you strangely. But you smile and nod and get on your way. He is only an old man.

—

There is someone in the woods. You feel his gaze on you, feel the dull prickle that rests on your nape from those eyes.

“We really must stop meeting like this” you say.

You have stopped trying to catch him. Now you only speak, eyes set on the dirt path in front of you. You do not think you will get a reply and when you do you shudder horribly at how much closer the voice is than you had anticipated.

“Don’t enjoy the company?”

He’s English and you frown. Out of towner. The old man must know something, but maybe you cannot begrudge him having fun at your expense. You have not made friends here.

“Enjoy company where I can see it if it’s all the same to you.”

The man laughs. It is a confusing laugh, warm and cold all at once as it bounces through the trees.

“Careful what you wish for.”

You resist the urge to turn even as his voice moves strangely, like he is swaying from one side of the path to the other.

“Must have a face like sin to keep hiding away” you say.

The next words you can feel. His breath is right at your cheek, a strand of your hair lifted by his fingers.

“Quite the opposite.”

Your heart is a prey animal running from a predator, beating wildly against your ribs as you turn to find he isn’t there. Only you certainly felt him. He leaves a sweet smell behind.

—

Sleep does not come easily that night. The rain against your window casts the moonlight strangely into your room. You spend hours watching as the creeping vines on the wallpaper seem to twist and shift beneath the moon flowers. When you finally fall asleep, it is almost as if you can smell them. Sweet and slightly metallic.

You wake up with the fading scent of damp earth and something on the edge of rot in your nose and the feel of dirt packed uncomfortably under your nails. They’re clean you find, but you spend the start of the morning cutting them down once you see the fading scratches left on your arms and legs through the night.

—

He is not the only stranger in the woods. You swore you would not go back, but routine takes you there without thought.

The Scottish man likes to walk on your right hand side, just enough steps behind you that you can only see him at the very side of your vision. You think he is handsome, but it is difficult to be sure. What you can be sure of is that he is dressed oddly. You have spoken to him for a while now, discussing yourself mostly. Perhaps it is the eerie quiet of the woods that makes you want to fill the dead space, but you tell him more about yourself than you ever would have thought yourself comfortable with.

“Are you a soldier then?” you ask.

“Sometimes, I think.”

You take a moment to chew that answer, wonder at the taste of it. There is a panic when you smell blood on the air, but it is quickly blanketed by sweetness. You have reached the jimsonweeds. It is too early, you have not walked far enough to be here already. But before you can protest the steps to your right stop and you know the man is gone.

None of them ever come farther than this.

—

You try the next day and the next to get answers from him. He seems to make a decision at one point just as the familiar smell reaches you and you think you will leave with no more information than you had before.

“I’m SAS.”

He is not there when you turn to thank him. He is not there at all when you return the next day.

—

The library run by Mrs Kaletaws is added to your routine. Breakfast, stretch, shower, library, lunch, try to sleep, walk, dinner, read, try to sleep. The small building has the peculiar addition of a cat you never quite see. You hear the skitter of claws on worn wood floor that has started to smell of sickly sweet rot, see fading scratches on the legs and arms of the chair, find hairs on your clothing, feel the prickle of eyes focused on you from the dark running up your spine to settle dully on the back of your neck. You have tried before to get a glimpse of the creature, but it only seems to exist in the very corner of your eye and retreats when your gaze tries to creep around to catch it.

Lela never talks about the cat. She told you once that it is only her and her wife that live in the basement below the library. You have never seen her wife and fear she must have some permanent sickness that stops her from being able to do much. You think they should move above ground so she can at least see the world through the windows obscured by racing raindrops, but you keep it to yourself.

The one computer here is old, the white plastic exterior now yellowed. Still, it is the only gateway to the outside world in this little town and you blow at your tea while waiting for your search results. ‘SAS military bases in West Virginia’ is a shot in the dark, but you need to start somewhere. After a sip you dump more sugar into your cup before looking at your finally loaded results.

There are none. No British military installations at all in the USA. You had hoped at least the results would bring up something about training exercises but it is just pages of useless information about bases around the world. You read about the SAS, fall down a rabbit hole of how they torture their soldiers to train them to withstand it. You go through pages and pages of search results until finally one talks about SAS soldiers in this area.

The link takes you to a dusty website that stopped being updated sometime in the late 90s. It’s some sort of conspiracy blog and you are prepared to close it, but you can’t help but get lost in the story it tells.

The details are unclear which you suppose is the hallmark of any good conspiracy. 40 years ago. There was a team of two, or maybe four or maybe seven. They set up just outside the woods with little to no explanation. There’s an interview from a local, not a name you recognise so one you think is likely long dead. She says two of the soldiers went into the woods first. She remembers something bad must have happened, because there was an argument between the five left outside. Nobody was allowed close, but she watched two more men go into the woods. After that the operation seemed to vanish entirely overnight and nobody heard anything more about it.

Whoever authored the blog has a gift with words because despite your logical mind knowing it was probably nothing but a random training exercise, the hairs on the back of your neck raise.

There is a photo of the alleged unit at the end loading slowly. You stare in fascination as line by line appears from the top. The world stops before it fully loads. At first you are confused as to why your whole body is tense, why your heart is racing. And then you figure it out. Silence. Complete and all together sudden silence. No rain hitting the windows, no scratching of the cat echoing, not even the whir of the computer.

You do not want to look away from the screen. You do not want to turn around. The prickle on your neck goes from dull to sharp.

The computer powers down.

—

He says to call him John. This man does not walk to your right like the Scottish one, or behind you like the first one you met. He walks in front of you. You can see the full expanse of his back clad in a vest. He wears a hat. He only ever turns slightly, enough to see that he has sideburns but never enough to see his face.

You are so enraptured by being able to see so much of him so clearly that it takes you a while to notice there is someone on your left. A few steps behind like the Scottish one does on your right. It takes you by surprise enough that you are about to forget the unspoken rules and turn, but John predicts your move.

“Eyes forward.”

“Sorry” you say automatically, fixing you eyes to his back and letting the other man stay as the impression of a creature just in sight of your left eye.

“They’re pretty, Captain.”

“I’m aware.”

It should not make you blush but somehow it does.

“What’s you name?” you ask.

There is no way to direct it specifically to the man on your left, so you simple direct it to the back of John and hope that the trees will send it where it needs to go.

“Captain?” the man asks, not for permission but as if genuinely unsure of the answer.

“Kyle, your name’s Kyle.”

“Right. Kyle.”

You catch the movement of him touching his chest, maybe rubbing at a name tag there but you can’t be sure.

“You can call me Gaz if you like.”

John and Gaz are your company for weeks. Whenever you ask after the other two, the air turns sweet and bloody and you are left alone among the jimsonweeds.

—

“Got intae trouble for ye.”

You’re not sure where you are but you recognise the voice. Is he in your room?

“We both did. Curiosity would’ve killed you little kitten,” comes the other voice from the first man in the woods somewhere behind you.

You hazily look down at yourself. You are not in the bed at the inn, you are in another bed laid on your back. You feel your legs brush against one another, not clad in the flannel you remembered wearing. Silk, you are wearing silk. Delicate against your skin, not much of it. Were you wearing perfume? Something smells sweet.

As you stare at the bare expanse of your leg a hand sinks into your thigh, squeezes.

“Fuck LT, so soft. Fingers just sink right in.”

You fight the urge to look to the right where the hand is coming from. You can’t look, some primal part of your brain knows you cannot look.

“Stay away from the woods” the man behind you whispers into your ear like a caress as his hands settle gently around your neck.

You do not feel the snap of bone, but you hear it. You taste the blood in your mouth.

You do not manage to fall back asleep when you wake.

—

Breakfast, library, try to sleep, don’t go into the woods, dinner, try to sleep, stare at the wallpaper, try to sleep.

—

You overhear Axell and Lela once. You think they are talking about you.

“You think we’re doing the right thing?” Axell asks.

“I don’t think there is a right thing anymore.”

“It’s been a long time now. Maybe we should let them go.”

“You think we could?”

There is a silence. Neither of them thinks so. Paranoia settles over you that you haven’t felt since back when things got bad. It’s like an old vice settling into your bones, or maybe seeping out of them as if it never truly left. You cannot go back to that place again so you take some aspirin for the rhythmic pulsing behind your eyes and the dull prickle at the back of your neck and resolve to put any thoughts of conspiracy out of your mind. Lela and Axell are simply old, there is not something they know that you do not.

—

You do not mean to walk into the woods again. The man behind you is back. He feels different somehow.

“I could eat you right up” he says against your neck.

Old Mr Kleer sees the bloodied bite at your throat and says nothing as you walk by.

—

You book a bus ticket. It feels too much like there are tendrils growing from you to burrow into the ground, to fix you here. If you don’t rip them out now, it is only a matter of time until the roots are so deep you won’t be strong enough to move. You aren’t eating properly, you’ve hardly slept and when you do you wake up with a bitter taste in your mouth and covered in scratches. There is still the shape of a bite on your throat and the B&B owners in Pennsylvania look at you with pity as you check in.

The building is charming and fairly new. You stare at the neutral pink wallpaper. One corner of it has lifted ever so slightly. You fall asleep staring at the peek of green underneath.

—

It doesn’t rain as much here, the sun is out and everything seems more colourful. Weeks pass in a haze and you slowly emerge again, eating properly, sleeping through the night. The town on the Greenbrier starts to fade to an unpleasant dream.

—

There is something comforting about the old man who comes to stay and sits by you for breakfast in the mornings. He has the remnants of a Russian accent and laughs frequently and easily. The stories he tells are fantastical, but he’s non-committal about his visit to small town Pennsylvania although he at least tells you that he likes the nature around here. He whispers that his legs aren’t up for much walking anymore, so he has to take the easy paths through small patches of nature.

It takes a week or so more to work up the courage to accompany him on a walk. It seems silly, but the woods make you feel afraid. Maybe a short walk through the small area he spoke of will help you get beyond it. You rub at your neck, feeling the marks faded but still there.

—

He notices your discomfort and tries to ease it with his stories as you walk the dirt path.

“It’s the most important thing I’ve learned you know” he says, the aching grief in his voice causing you pause, “you cannot leave friends behind.”

You turn to him, intending to ask how much longer the path leads since it is getting dark now. He is not there.

“Nik?” you ask, calm at first but increasingly more frantic.

That old familiar dull prickle settles on the back of your neck as you run back down the way you came to get out of the woods. Drooping tree limbs get in your way and you push through, ignoring the scratches. As darkness falls you slow to a walk, unable to see anything in front of you. You catch the smell the sweetness of the jimsonweeds. You can smell blood.

Foot steps that are not your own surround you. A set in front of you. One behind. To the left and to the right.

“Welcome home.”

[cepheustarot]

What is people's first impression of you?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

✧ Masterlist ✧ Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: In general I can say that people's first impression of you is quite positive! I should immediately note that for many you stand out with your aura, you immediately catch the eye because you have a predominant vibe of a sunny person, kind, warm with whom you can easily find a common language and in general you are affable and friendly. Most people around you feel comfortable and easy to communicate, immediately after spending time with you their mood improves and a good mood remains for the whole day. At the same time many people see youf as a person capable of leading people, you have the traits of a leader, you are persistent, you know how to get along with people of any age because you know how to find an approach to any person even if he is the most sullen, taciturn and with a complex character.  Also many people see you as an intelligent person with high intelligence, you can probably quickly "get out of a situation" and come up with a solution in a matter of seconds, you can find solutions quickly and, in general, react faster than anyone in stressful situations. Despite the fact that you are kind and generous enough to many, you do not cross this line and in case of a quarrel you will stand your ground, do not let yourself be offended but at the same time you will not  fall downward to the level of the offender and will not insult him in return, put pressure on pain points. Many people may get the impression that you are a person who plans everything, not one of those who likes to improvise but strictly act as planned, because this way you feel more calm and you have a feeling that you are firmly on the ground, keeping everything under control.

Pile 2: People's first impression of you is the following: people see you as a very romantic person, perhaps you can often romanticize some situations in life, you are one of those who can find aesthetics in everything, you can often take photos just because you can find beauty in many things. Many people really like the way you take photos, your style and appearance and generally like your vision of the world. You are also seen as an open person, you are very emotional and speak directly about your feelings and share your thoughts. You are also open to everything new, you are characterized by curiosity, a desire to try something new and moreover, you yourself may feel the desire to bring something new into the world! You are a very gentle person who can often get sentimental, you are also very empathic and you have a high level of emotional intelligence, you will never be indifferent listening to someone's life story. You are open to new acquaintances and in general I can say that you like to communicate with people, learn something new about them, get closer but it is difficult to truly become your close friend or your lover because you are selective and careful about choosing your close environment.

Pile 3: First of all people get the first impression of you as a person who has achieved a lot in his life or at least you have an understanding of what you want to achieve in your life. You have probably already planned your actions for the coming years and you are one of those who brings what has been started to the end, nothing can break you and you will not be persuaded, you are very persistent in this regard and always do what you want, what you need without bending to the words of other people. People think that you are a sane person, you can really reason logically, you are not one of those who worry about trifles. You prefer to solve the problem right away without succumbing to emotions, I can generally call you a person of action, you are very hardworking, persistent and always moving forward. You also tend to think optimistically, you will find benefits in any situation, you will find something good and positive. People believe that you value family relationships very much, you love your family and your relatives, you can have quite warm and strong relationships with them, since they always support you and are always on your side, they usually do not condemn your decisions and your actions, because they see you as a mature and adult, an independent person.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤

[allforthegayphase]

TW: rape

Something I really appreciated about The Sunshine Court was its nauseatingly realistic depiction of rape culture.

Jean’s (repeated, violent) sexual assault isn’t treated as something horrific; in the toxic environment of The Nest, it’s normalized. The real story — Riko ordering 5 male players to rape Jean as a sadistic way to ‘break him in’ — is quickly twisted by his abusers; Jean is seen as a calculating vixen who slept his way to the top, for a Perfect Court number:

They continuously mock and taunt Jean with senseless jokes about it. There is an element of jealousy at play; Jean is a prodigy player, and, as he says himself at some point in the book, his older teammates didn’t enjoy being shown up by a child. They certainly enjoyed knocking him down a peg, though, by humiliating him and creating an illusion that he only got his spot on the team for sleeping around, not his talent:

Even one of his rapists, Grayson, continues this false narrative despite knowing the truth (or maybe he even convinced himself this narrative is the truth; that Jean ‘seduced’ him for a spot on the starting lineup):

Other ravens who don’t know the truth seem to quickly believe the narrative that a 16 yo chose to sleep with a bunch of his superiors for a personal gain; that is certainly easier than entertaining the thought that your teammates (friends?) are capable of something this horrific. Or maybe they simply don’t question it too hard; after all, Jean can’t tell his side of the story.

The rumors eventually spread outside the Nest. Jean’s reputation is tarnished to the point that this is one of the first things strangers on the internet learn about him:

The most heartbreaking detail about it all is Jean’s age. He was a 16 boy on the college team, the youngest player on the lineup; a foreigner who couldn’t even speak English when he arrived; an outsider. Despite the fact that his young age is something that even the ravens find particularly scandalous about the whole situation, Jean’s agency is never questioned. He’s not seen as a minor who was taken advantage of by older, superior men — and most of them are quite significantly older, having already graduated by the time Jean’s 19; Grayson seems to be the youngest of them and he’s at least three years older than Jean.

As many victims of SA, Jean had no choice but to continue living with his abusers side by side, pretending like nothing happened. Knowing there’s absolutely nothing he can do.

The first time someone voices concern over the questionable circumstances surrounding the whole situation happens in this conversation with Jeremy (to be fair, it seems like Jean's age isn't public knowledge but the ravens obviously know):

And as many victims, Jean internalized his experience as something he deserved on some level:

TLDR: Sexual assault is, unfortunately, a very big part of our culture; it’s not just something that happens in the dark alleys; rapists aren't just scary strangers. They're also your friends, peers, teammates. The way the Nest (and the general public as a whole) turns a blind eye at best and mocks and humiliates the victim at worst is a microcosm of how SA is largely treated in real life. It was genuinely fascinating to see it depicted so realistically, even though it made for a heavy read at several points. I hope Nora keeps up the good work, and we'll see further exploration of the topic and Jean dealing with his trauma in the next book.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐛 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ notes: lars content yay! as far as i can tell, i'm one of the few to do anything on him, so i hope there's more than ten people out there interested in him

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: she blinded me with science—thomas dolby

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• This guy is a snacker

• Take one look at him. You can't tell me that he doesn't constantly skip out on meals in favor of research, usually just pulling a granola bar or stained tupperware from his desk drawer to eat while he works

• Don't get me wrong, Lars can still devour a good bit of food. Sometimes you like to make fun of him for how much good he'll get on his face in the process

• "You're looking at me weird." He frowned at you one day from behind the rims of his glasses

• "Uh, yeah. Wonder why." You grin with mild surprise, watching as leftover rice and beans from the burrito in his hands stuck to the corners of his mouth like glue. He was quick to wipe it all off, ignoring you as you laughed at him

• Aside from that, Lars usually keeps his workplace pretty clean. It's cluttered, sure, but you don't think you've ever seen him wonder where something went. He just always knew where things were. It was like he had a system in his head, and the more you thought about it, the more you decided he definitely did

• The one time someone had even tried to clean his place up, you watched as he immediately jumped in, convincing them that they were needed elsewhere and sending them off before they could mess with his set-up

• Often times, when it's just the two of you alone in the offsight lab, you'll bounce a tennis ball off the wall while Lars types away, only ever looking up to squint at you when the ball gets to close to his head

• "You should really give that to the possesor. I'm sure it'd appreciate it." He hums to you at one point while spinning around in his chair to reach something. Behind you, you hear the unmistakable sound of a metal chair tapping excitedly on glass, and you make a tsking noise

• "Pretty sure you just want me to stop distracting you with my awesome skills." You boast, attempting to do a trickshot only to smack Lars in the back. He glares at you, and you inch backward with a nervous chuckle

• "You know what, I think I'll give it to the possesor."

• "What a brilliant idea." Lars says monotonely. You were quick to get rid of the ball

• He hums while he works!

• It's not anything discernable. In fact, most of the time he isn't even singing real songs. Just little tunes he'll make up on the spot for himself; often as a way to pass the time and make minute tasks fly by

• You notice it quite a lot, but don't really say anything. It's quite entertaining, if you're being truthful

• "Sittin' and waitin' for food. Sittin' and waitin' for food.." He'd improvised once while waiting yet again for a t.v dinner of his to finish its cycle in the labs shared microwave

• "Wow Lars. Voice of an angel, you have."

• "Stuff it."

• Lars doesn't often need help with his work, there's a reason he landed the job after all, but when he does, you're always the first person he goes to. It's a side effect of having spent so much time with you at work, and even outside of it—if you counted lunch breaks and independent experiments as a non-work environment

• He likes being able to get a fresh set of eyes on whatever's stumping him, and it usually doesn't take long for the two of you to work around whatever was holding him up

• Overall, you couldn't think of a better friend/co-worker to have, and the same applies for Lars. Your relationship will only strengthen as time goes on, even withstanding the bizzar experiences that Garraka eventually brings later that year

• But that's for much later. Right now, the two of you are content to sit in the aquarium-turned-headquarters, watching as the hours ticked by without a care in the world

[zzencat]

How To Energetically Get The Most Out Of Your School/Work Life - ⏳

Since we’re getting into the groove of things…let’s gaur!!!! For entertainment purposes.

From left to right. Breathe and choose the one(s) you can't keep your eyes off of.

TO ENHANCE ACCURACY BEFORE CHOOSING: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.

Pile 1 | boomer mentality?

• change your ways. Bad habits, weak ways of thinking- sure, it’s uncomfortable. Growth is uncomfortable. Success is uncomfortable (I’m pretty sure someone super famous said that once maybe someone should remind me- 🤔) . You’ll find that if you look at things from a new perspective, a new angle, it’ll be beneficial for you in the long run. Just like looking at stress in a good way- there are studies on it that show that if you look at stress in a more positive way and use it to your advantage, you could really stretch out your life and live longer than those who were pessimistic about it (lol fun fact for you)

if you let go of the old, your luck will change. embrace these new changes, beliefs, environments, and people.

don’t keep your time and resources to yourself. allow for self reflection and transformations to happen!

big focus: don’t let history repeat itself. it’s time for a change! let go and let in.

—————————

Pile 2 | feeling stuck or stagnant

• pile 2, you tend to overthink everything. You let your mind run its course. That ain’t good news. It prevents you from reaching new heights- prevents you from even starting on something, just because of fear or even roots of perfectionism. There’s a huge lack of motivation, confidence, and trust in yourself- so much that even when I was pulling your cards they were hesitant to come out. it feels like russian roulette but it’s firing on its own. some people here might tend to overreact/throw a tantrum as well or be immature in situations that need sensibility (in this case, ya gotta take this time to mature.)

• I feel this group has trouble with balance in general. Nothing wrong with that on occasion but if that’s your default setting and you’re stuck in your mind all day, wondering about this and that—just a crazy clash of thoughts and ideas—ruminating and running around in a vicious cycle full of mental bullshit then it’s gonna stop you. It’s gonna stop you from growth, from achieving things, from getting started, from living life normally. That’s the bare minimum, isn’t it? All we gotta do is breathe and when life makes it hard, the brain works harder. The mind is truly the most dangerous thing and you have to embrace it, marinate in it, and pick at it. find out where the balance is between intuition, logic, and emotion.

you might feel restricted and the need to break free, but what you also need is a breather to calm down and assess yourself before making decisions. rmr, deep breaths.

•Do your own research, form your own opinions, figure out who you are, how you operate, and what you want in life. That’s how you begin to build character. That’s how you can move forward, even if it’s little by little. (A more stable foundation comes outta that too.)

big focus: practice self control. when they say “lead with your head,” they really mean the control center of logic, intuition, and emotion…but who’s doing more of the controlling here, you or your mind?

——————————

Pile 3 | “how could I miss that?”

• What you need to focus on is slowing down. it’s easy to miss things when we’re busy or taking on a lot of responsibilities. give yourself some love and care—tend to those inner callings. It’s good for your mental health as well. Remember: mental becomes physical.

• put yourself first for once. Connect with yourself and loved ones- go on one of them self dates- Yessir those exist 😳

• pile 3, you are easily the most efficient and speedy group- cards were legit being shuffled like they were being handled like a pro- but you know the con of that? You miss all the moments you could’ve had with friends, lovers, family. Yourself. You get to miss all the details because things are going too fast pow pow pow one after the other until it piles up and then you end up beating yourself up for small and simple mistakes…calm down and adjust yourself. You will be okay.

• I’m telling you fam- TAKE BREAKS. Give yourself moments to relax and rejuvenate before you push yourself!! You put too much pressure on yourself as it is

• connect with your inner feminine energy when you have the time—you gotta MAKE that time for yourself

• don’t be so neglectful in your relationships btw! Romantic, platonic, familial, wtv- learn how to manage your time so that you can separate work and assignments with social relations. Keep that communication up!! This includes your inner and outer voice. Reflect and acknowledge how you feel.

big focus: be more open minded to making new connections! spend more time with others. you’ll find emotional happiness and fulfillment in it :)

————————————

Ending Teddy note:

Hello hollywood people 😎 it has been a long minute! thank you for taking the time to read through this—YOU ARE AWESOME!!! Always remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t! I’ll cya fam ciao :)

[sokosmic]

Love, Values & Money:

Venus Thru the Houses

Venus, often known as the planet of love, beauty, and money, holds a profound influence in astrology, symbolizing what and how we value life's treasures. It governs our affection, the way we express love, and our aesthetic preferences, shaping our attractions and the pleasure we derive from art, beauty, and social interactions. Beyond the realms of the heart, Venus also dictates our financial wellbeing, highlighting paths to prosperity through what we cherish and find joy in. It reflects our approach to money, from earning to spending, emphasizing the importance of harmony and satisfaction in our material pursuits. Essentially, Venus serves as a guide that illuminates our desires, and defines our sense of beauty. It also steers our financial ventures towards fulfillment and balance. Understanding Venus's placement and aspects in a birth chart can unlock secrets to navigating relationships, financial success, and uncovering what truly brings us joy.

Venus 1st House -

You love working on your self-image. You value your independence. You make money through your creative pursuits. You love sticking up for the underdog. You value confidence. You make money in leadership positions. You love showcasing individual expression. You value authenticity and charm.

Venus 2nd House -

You make money in the food industry. You value your own self-worth. You love material comfort. You make money in real estate or business related fields. You value sensuality, physical touch, and gifts. You love creating an aesthetically pleasing environment. You make money in joint ventures or by building partnerships. You value being rewarded for hard efforts. You love luxury items. You make money with wise investments or through avenues that appreciate value over time.

Venus 3rd House -

You value your mind. You love to talk. You value good communication. You make money in your local community. You value your siblings. You love a nice vehicle. You make money in sales or commerce. You value facts or the opportunity to learn new things. You love to research. You make money as a researcher or writer. You love taking short trips.

Venus 4th House -

You value family. You love your mother. You make money in real estate or by having a family business. You love your childhood memories. You value security or being secure. You love emotional expression. You make money working from home. You value your intuition. You love being a homebody. You make money researching history.

Venus 5th House -

You value creativity and pleasure. You love expressing yourself through artistic or creative endeavors, finding joy in romance and leisure activities. You make money through the arts, entertainment industry, or any field that allows your creative juices to flow. You value joyful experiences and love affairs. You love investing into creative projects. You make money in businesses related to leisure and entertainment.

Venus 6th House -

You value service, health, and daily routines. You love helping others and are passionate about improving well-being for yourself and those around you. You make money in health care, the wellness industry, or services aimed at enhancing others' lives. You love animals or caring for people or animals that require help. You value efficiency and practical solutions. You make money in administrative roles or businesses focused on efficiency or making improvements.

Venus 7th House -

You value relationships and partnerships deeply. You love when interactions are harmonious and fair. You make money in legal fields, counseling, or through partnerships that require a balanced approach. You love social gatherings and networking. You value collaboration and partnerships. You make money via marriage or from a partner. You value compromise and diplomacy.

Venus 8th House -

You love exploring the depths of relationships. You value transformation, intimacy, and shared resources. You make money in finance, investments, or managing other people's resources. You love researching occult topics and taboo subjects. You value psychoanalysis or digging into fields dealing with crisis or trauma. You make money with an esoteric or occult business.

Venus 9th House -

You value adventure, philosophy, and higher learning. You love traveling and exploring different cultures. You make money through education, publishing, or international business or travel. You value freedom of belief and wisdom. You love engaging in philosophical debates and spiritual quests. You make money from religious or spiritual leadership, or as a cultural ambassador.

Venus 10th House -

You love achieving goals and gaining recognition. You value aspects of career, reputation, and your public image. You make money in high-ranking positions, the arts, or public relations. You love to plan and structure for success. You value ambition and responsibility. You make money in entrepreneurship or industries that value tradition and prestige.

Venus 11th House -

You value friendships, community, and your goals for the future. You love social reform and working within groups. You make money through technology, innovation, or community-driven projects. You value individuality and collective progress. You love unique expression and the freedom to be authentic. You make money in networking and social movements, such as non-profit organizations or social enterprises.

Venus 12th House -

You love spending time alone. You value your spiritual connection to Source. You value your privacy. You make money working remotely or in isolated environments. You love visiting far away lands. You make money from embracing your spiritual path. You love fantasy genres. You value compassion. You make money working in hospitals or prisons.