#I don’t know how there are still some people who are like

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 40: Where Do We Go From Here?

Summary: Things aren't going as smoothly as anyone would like. Maybe they can fix it. Maybe they can't.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 5,970 words

Warnings: Angst, discussion of nightmares, PTSD, discussion of death and killing people, emotions, so many emotions, angst, a little sliver of comfort

A/N: And it is back!! not super proud of this one but I'm starting out on a filler so...yeah. Really just setting up for the next part where some action starts again. You'll see. Anyway, glad to be back at it and I hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

John stands at the door, gazing out at the yard. It’s pouring rain, dumping buckets on the roof. The water has pooled on the planks of the deck, splattering with every big drop that pours from the sky. The weather once again mirrors your mood, your sobs audible from your room over the pounding on the roof. 

John holds his mug in his hands, staring at the reflection in the window. Kyle and Johnny are sitting on the couch, both looking like kicked puppies. They’re itching to enter your room and go comfort you, but they’ve been kicked out for now. You’re not in the state of mind to be around any of them right now, no matter how badly your sobs tear at their heartstrings. 

You haven’t been in that state of mind for a few hours now. 

Whatever nightmare had plagued your mind last night, it was particularly awful. You’ve been up since the early hours, waking from a nightmare with a terrified scream that had continued until Kyle finally got you to stop and breathe. His ears are still ringing with it, his mind still pulsing with that fear. Something happened. Someone got in. Someone hurt you. 

Nothing happened. No one got in.  

The only threat was still just in your mind. 

Graves. 

He knows that’s at least part of your nightmares. Christine had disclosed that to him quietly on the side. Even she doesn’t know everything that plagues your dreams, but Graves seems to be a common specter in the darkness of your mind. 

It makes his blood boil, and not just out of anger for what Graves did to you. 

It boils with anger at himself too. 

It’s his fault you’re in this state in the first place. He should have known, he should have seen, he should have suspected. He should have never left you there. You should have been his priority over anything else. 

How badly he’s failed you. 

He lets out a sigh, turning away from the window to move over to the couches. He sinks down with a sigh, resting his elbows on his knees. The little progress you’ve made has regressed with this new string of nightmares, the fear pushing you further and further back into your mind. He’s resolved himself to only get worried when Christine is worried, and right now she’s beginning to look worried. If you regress back again, the chances of bringing you out of that are slim. Sure, there are plenty of options to help, but you have to want them to help. 

He knows exactly what will help, you just don’t want it. 

He runs a hand through his hair as your sobs begin to quiet. It’s longer than he’s let it get for a long time. They’re all a bit scraggly and ragged looking, worn down and lazy now that there’s no strict rules guiding their lives. None of them quite know what to do outside of the regulations they’ve spent the better parts of their lives living under. He’s been in the military longer now than he hasn’t, and he’s been finding himself itching for that structure again. He can never bring himself to relax and put the job aside even on leave. He only takes it when he has to and usually spends it training and keeping his skills sharp. 

Now...now things have changed. 

They have no return now. There’s no clear, set time that they have to return to base. They can’t return to base. It would leave them too open to a possible retaliation from Shepherd. They were betrayed by one of their own already, who's to say someone else wouldn’t be just as eager to become a traitor for a chunk of cash? They’re not even truly safe here. 

How are they going to go back to base after this? Can he bring himself to take you back there, a place you never felt comfortable in the first place? 

Where do they go from here? 

He’s been trying not to think too much about it. That’s a dilemma for a different day. That’s thinking too far ahead. Day by day is as far as he dares to take it now. 

The door closes quietly, John’s head lifting to watch Christine as she approaches the couch. There’s a slump to her shoulders, something that’s been getting lower and lower as the days have progressed. She’s struggling with this just as much as they all are. 

She sinks down on the couch, letting out a long breath. Your sobs have quieted, no sound coming from the room now. The silence is almost eerie after days of constant sounds, good and bad from your room. You were doing better. You were looking more alive and well. 

Then this happened. 

“She’s asleep.” Christine says, her voice strained. “Finally calmed down enough to nap.” She covers her eyes with a hand, sitting there still for a moment. 

“The nightmares?” John asks, glancing at Christine out of the corner of his eye. 

“Worse.” She says, her gaze far away. “She's remembering what happened.” 

John stares at Kyle and Johnny for a moment, the betas returning his worried gaze.

“Those shadows she killed...” Johnny says.

Christine nods. “She's, uh, not taking it well.” 

John runs a hand over his face. He knew it was possible you'd start to remember what happened during the time your omega took control. It wouldn't remain a dark spot forever, though he hoped it would. The things you were forced to do are coming to light now, the things you did to survive because they failed you. Taking the life of someone who deserves it is nothing to them. Taking the life of someone who would take yours just as quickly isn't so much as a second thought. 

You're not like them. 

You've never had to face that reality before, and you shouldn't have had to. 

“One of us should talk to her.” Kyle says.

“I don't think that's the best idea right now.” Christine shakes her head. “She's...regressed a bit. Pushing that on her, while well intentioned, might do more harm than good...” she trails off, her gaze still far away. 

The three of them sit there, waiting for what she’s going to say next. He’s not even sure Johnny or Kyle are breathing as they wait patiently for whatever solution Christine might be able to come up with, whatever move she thinks is the best one to take next. 

“I want to take her out.” Christine says. 

“What?” John asks in surprise. 

“She needs to get out of the house. It’s not doing any of us any good sitting in here all day.” She rubs her eyes. “She expressed interest in going for a walk a couple days ago. She needs to get up and moving, start regaining some of her strength.” 

John lets out a breath leaning back against the couch. He’s tempted to say no. His knee jerk reaction is to refuse. The world outside isn’t safe. If anyone is watching, if anyone sees them...

There’s always going to be that risk though, and Christine is right. Sitting in the house all day isn’t doing any of them any good. They’re at the mercy of the rain, but even then, he doubts it will keep any of them trapped inside for long. 

“When the rain clears up.” He finally says. “We'll discuss it more. But, I think that might be a good idea.” 

“What can we do?” Kyle asks, staring at Christine. 

She lets out a sigh, covering her eyes with her hand. “I don’t know. I’ve helped hundreds of omegas in crisis and yet I don’t know why this case is so hard.” 

“This has become more personal than those cases.” John says. 

Christine’s shoulders slump even more. “I know. I try so hard but she’s just so...different from other omegas.” 

“This entire situation is different from what you’ve done before.” Kyle says. 

“You’re right.” Christine sighs. “The best we can do is let her lead. Do what she needs, give her what she wants. The worst thing that can happen right now is regression. If she regresses too far, we might never get her back.” 

“What is it? Tell me what ye need.” 

“Can you make me forget?” 

“I wish I could.” 

“Hit me hard enough on the head I might forget everything. Then we can all just start over.” 

“That’s not funny.” 

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” 

“Kitten,” Johnny sighs, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I wish I could make those thoughts go away. I wish I could make them mine.” 

“I killed people.” 

“I know.” He reaches out, touching your hand. “I wish ye didnae have to. Ye were just defending yerself. Those Shadows would have done worse to ye if ye hadn’t.” 

You curl up in your chair, turning away from him. “That’s not helpful.” 

“Sorry.” He says, letting out another sigh. “We just want to help ye.” 

You’re silent for a moment, sitting there listening to the waves. It’s cold this morning, not even the thick blanket draped over you offering much respite. It’s the first morning it hasn’t poured rain in days and you were determined to take full advantage of it despite the objections of your pack. 

“I know.” You finally say, staring out at the grey clouds looming on the horizon. The rain will return, just like the dark thoughts constantly swirling in your mind. They make you sick, nausea constantly churning in your stomach and threatening to rise. 

Johnny wraps his hand around yours, his palm warm against your cold skin. “Should head inside. Gonnae catch a cold.” 

“You know that’s a myth right?” You say, tilting your head to stare at him. 

“No it’s not.” He says, pulling your hand between his. “It’s not good for ye being out in the cold.” 

“I’ll live.” You say, trying to pull your hand from his, but he holds you firm. He’s stubborn, but so are you. 

“Kitten...” He says, almost whining at you. “Go inside please.” 

You let out a sigh, staring out at the horizon again. The clouds promise more rain soon, another downpour on its way. You hate it, how much it’s been raining. You just want to be outside, down at the beach, going on walks. Your pack won’t let you though, not while it’s raining, even though they often leave no matter the weather. 

It’s not fair. 

You’re not a fragile flower and you’re tired of being treated that way. Even though your brain feels like it’s in a blender constantly. Even though the pain of what happened still drives into you like a knife, you just want to be treated like a normal human being again. 

“Fine.” You sigh, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’ll go inside.” 

Johnny grabs your arm before you can head back in the door. “Ye know we just want the best for you.” 

You stare at him for a long moment, emotions swirling in your mind. They are trying. You’ll give them that credit. They’re trying, but not hard enough. “What you think is best and what’s actually best isn’t always the same.” 

He looks like a kicked puppy as he lets you go. You turn away before you can feel guilty, heading back inside the cottage. 

You pull the blanket tighter around you as you stare at the flickering flames in the hearth. The heat is intense so close, but it’s warming the chill under your skin. It’s getting colder at night, foretelling the upcoming winter. All the blankets in the world couldn’t fight off the chill that’s settled in you at night. You know what might help, but you’re not brave enough to approach that solution. 

The footsteps on the stairs don’t startle you in the otherwise silent house, the creak of them audible over the crackle of the logs in the fire. 

“I’d add another one.” A voice says from behind you. 

“I’m going to.” You say, reaching for the stack next to the fireplace. 

“Careful. Put it on the side.” 

“I know how to make a fire, thank you.” You snap, shoving the log in before moving it into place with the poker. “I’m not useless.” 

“Didn’t mean to imply you were.” It’s silent for a moment as you settle back into place. “What are you doing out here?” 

“I’m cold.” You answer simply, not feeling up to giving an entire expose on your current state of mind to the person you want to speak to the least right now. 

“We can turn the heat up more.” John says. “Whatever you want to be more comfortable.” 

I want you to leave. You bite your lip, suddenly not brave enough to say it out loud. 

They are trying. 

“Why are you down here?” You ask instead. 

“Couldn’t sleep so I came to get a snack.” He says. “You want anything?” 

“No.” You say quickly, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. “I’m alright.” 

“You sure?” He presses, standing off to your right. 

You hesitate for a moment, curling your toes under the blanket as one of the logs snaps. It’s not food you need from him. Your appetite has decreased again with this new wave of horrible things plaguing your mind. “I want to know why,” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “why you left me there.” 

John shifts behind you, silent for a long moment. 

“I got too caught up in the big picture.” He finally says. “I thought that taking out Shepherd would end everything before it went too far. It’s the only way we’ll ever be safe, and I didn’t consider the lengths he’d go to, the lengths he’d let Graves go to, just to cover his own ass long enough for him to escape. I was wrong in making that decision. You’re not like us. You’ve never been left behind, tortured, had to fight your way out of an impossible situation. You shouldn’t have ever been put in that position. We all failed you. Every last one of us.” 

Tears burn your eyes as you stare into the fire. “You left me.” 

“I know.” He says, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made.” 

“I can’t do this.” You whisper, your knuckles white where they’re gripping the edges of the blanket. The words are coming out and you can’t stop them. Maybe it’s because deep down you remember the better times, when he was a comfort. Someone you could trust to catch you when you fall. “I keep seeing them, seeing what I did, what happened. I killed people.” 

“People that would have killed you without a second thought.” He says. “You were defending yourself in a situation where that was unavoidable. It’s not your fault. None of it is.” 

“Can we ever move past this?” You ask, your voice quiet and broken.  

“I like to think we can.” John says. “It won’t be easy, but if that’s what you want, we sure as hell will work to make it happen. Things won’t go back to the way they were, and they shouldn’t. You deserve better than what we gave you.” 

You don’t respond because you can’t. His words float around in your mind, replaying over and over. You want to believe him. You desperately want to believe him, but a deep part of you can’t. He’s made promises before and then broke them. How can you trust this time will be different? 

The creak of the stairs wakes you. It’s jarring, pulling you out of a sleep you didn’t know you were in. You’re on the couch in the living room, bundled under a blanket with a decorative pillow under your head. You don’t remember moving to the couch. The fire is nothing more than embers now, but it feels warmer in the house. It’s dawn, the grey light streaming in through the window, chasing away the shadows of night. 

“What are you doing out here?” A gruff voice asks you. 

You groan, rubbing your eyes. “Fell asleep.” 

“On the couch?” 

“Think I was on the floor first.” You yawn, pressing your face back into the pillow. “Don’t remember getting to the couch.” 

“Why?” 

“Got cold.” Your voice is slightly muffled as you pull the blanket up higher. 

Simon lets out a sigh before moving around the couch to the fireplace. He adds a couple logs in before lighting it again, the fire crackling back to life. You’re half asleep already as another blanket is draped over you, tucked up around your neck. There’s a feeling of a hand brushing over your head, but that may have just been your imagination as you drift off back to sleep. 

You don’t get to sleep long, more footsteps coming down the stairs waking you. A hand does brush over your head this time, the scent of the beach filling your nose. You let out a groan, trying to snuggle deeper into the blankets. 

“Sleeping out here this morning?” Kyle’s soft voice reaches your ears. 

You grunt, chasing the quickly fading edges of sleep in your brain. 

“Breakfast is ready, if you want to get up.” 

You are hungry. There’s a quiet rumble of your stomach as you begin to register the smells coming from the kitchen: bacon and eggs and coffee. Johnny is making the coffee most likely. Maybe you’ll have some this morning. You might need it with how groggy you feel. 

You stretch out on the couch, trying to breathe some life into your limbs. It’s not the most comfortable couch, definitely not for sleeping, but it’s better than the floor. It was likely John that moved you. He was the only one that knew you were out here last night. 

You're not sure how that makes you feel. 

It's nice on one hand, that he saved you from the pains of sleeping on the floor. But at the same time it feels like an intrusion. There was a time you wouldn't have thought twice about it. There was a time it would have been normal and expected and you would have thanked him for it. 

Now...now you're not sure. 

You push yourself up to sit, joints cracking from being stuck in one position for so long. You blink slowly as you sit there for a moment. It’s warm in the house, almost too warm now with your body warmed from sleep. Dr. Keller is sitting at the table, a steaming mug in front of her. Tea, most likely. Maybe coffee. You’re not quite sure. She gives you a soft smile as you rub a hand across your face. 

You feel groggy as you push yourself up to stand, letting your stomach and feet guide you towards the smells coming from the kitchen. Kyle guides you to the table with a promise of making you a plate and you take your usual seat at the end of the table facing the kitchen. Dr. Keller is to your left this time, coffee in her mug judging by the smell. 

“How did you sleep?” She asks, her hands wrapped around the mug. 

“Fine. Got cold.” You say, resting your head in your hand.

“John turned the heat up a bit. We can get you more blankets if you need them.” Dr. Keller says. 

You hum, letting your eyes close for a moment. You won’t complain about more blankets, more soft things to lay with. There is one thing you wish you had, though. You’re not quite sure how to ask for it, or that it would even be possible to get. 

You jump when a hand touches your back, not realizing you had even dozed off sitting there. 

“Sorry.” Kyle says, setting a plate on the table in front of you. “Food’s hot. You want coffee or tea.” 

“Coffee.” You say instantly, earning a wide grin from Johnny as he takes his own seat at the table. 

“Even split this morning.” He says cheekily, setting his own mug down. “Three against three.” 

“Tea is still the superior choice.” Kyle says from the kitchen. “Better for you anyway.” 

“Coffee has a lot of health benefits as well.” Dr. Keller says. “So long as you don’t add too much sugar into it.” 

“See.” Johnny says, giving them a victorious grin. 

“She said so long as you don’t put too much sugar in it.” Kyle says, carrying over your mug of coffee. “You’ll get diabetes from how much you add in.” 

“Two spoonfuls isnae too much.” He turns to look at Dr. Keller. “Is it?” 

Dr. Keller gives him a worried look. “You might be pushing it there.” 

Johnny’s grin turns into a pout. “What do ye mean?” 

A ghost of a smile tugs at your lips as you quickly shovel a forkful of eggs into your mouth. As much as the deep pain of betrayal still aches in your chest, as much as you still want to hate them, you have to admit you missed this. It’s the least tense you’ve seen all of them in the last few weeks. Even Dr. Keller’s shoulders don’t seem quite so squared as they have been. 

A part of you feels guilty about it. It is your fault deep down. You’re the one keeping them all on edge, driving that wedge between them over and over again. Deep down you’re the one causing the heavy weight that’s settled over the house. You wish you could just go back to normal, you wish you could just wave a wand and make yourself okay again. You wish you could ease their pain just a little bit. 

The eggs suddenly don’t taste quite so good anymore. 

You force them down regardless in favor of causing another scene, in favor of dragging the mood down. They deserve a little lighthearted moment after everything. They don’t need to know the inner turmoil plaguing your mind. 

Simon shifts next to you, his eyes darting to glance at your face. You can feel them, the intensity of his gaze just as sharp as it had been back in the beginning, back before he looked at you with fondness. He’s stiff as he sits there, almost as if he can sense the storm raging inside of you as you force yourself to pretend that you’re fine in favor of keeping the bright mood that’s settled over the table. 

Maybe he can sense it. He is an alpha after all. It’s his job to know, to understand. You glance across the table at John, his eyes on his phone as he sips his tea. 

Your gaze drops down to your plate as you pick up a piece of bacon, your heart shattering just a little bit more. 

“‘S too early.” You whine as hands pull the blanket off of you. Cold air nips at your skin, making you curl up in a ball. 

“It’s noon. Come on.” A hand closes around your arm, gently shaking you. “You want to get up.” 

You let out a whine, pinching your face up. “No.” 

“Trust me. It’ll be worth it.” Kyle says, brushing the hair back from your face. 

“Why.” You say, letting out a huff. 

“We’re going on a little trip.” Kyle pulls you up, forcing you into a seated position. “Dress warm.” 

You’re alone in the room again, the door left open. Light streams in, making you squint against the harsh intrusion. A quick glance at the clock reveals it is, in fact, a little past noon. You took a nap to make up for a night of tumultuous sleep, one of the few things you have to do here in this prison. Nap and read. It’s a lot like your life before the cottage, before everything that happened, except now you’re stuck with your pack around you at all times. 

You almost miss the times they were away. 

You maneuver yourself so your legs dangle over the edge of the bed as you try to blink the drowsiness away. The nap hadn’t been nearly long enough, but judging by Kyle’s eagerness, they let you sleep a bit longer than they wanted. 

You let out a sigh before pushing yourself off the bed, moving to the dresser. You pull out warm clothes, quickly changing. You have no idea what they have planned, what’s going on. There was no frantic rush, Kyle’s energy more excited than anything. It makes you a bit worried as you step out of the room into the living area. 

They’re all waiting by the door, watching you as you approach them, rubbing your eyes. 

“Come on,” John says, setting a pair of shoes on the floor. “Boots on.” 

“What are we doing?” You ask, moving forward automatically. 

“We’re taking a little trip.” Kyle answers. 

You look at him cautiously as you step into the boots, pulling them on. You haven’t been away from the cottage since you arrived two weeks ago. You’ve barely been let outside, weather permitting. It’s an overcast day today, the world grey outside, but grey is better than rain. 

“Ready?” John asks as you stare at him. 

“I guess.” You say, still a bit hesitant. 

They make no effort to ease your discomfort and nerves. 

You’re led out the door and towards the cars by Dr. Keller. Her face is brighter than it has been lately which doesn’t help your nervous energy. She’s excited too, just like the rest of them. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. Maybe it’s the anxiety of leaving after being trapped inside for so long. You just want to know where you’re going, what it is you’re going to be doing. 

Dr. Keller ushers you into the back seat of one of the cars, getting in the other side. Kyle and John climb into the front while Johnny and Simon get into the other car. 

You watch the green pass by as they drive, taking in the new landscape. You don’t remember arriving at the cottage. You don’t remember most of the trip at all. It’s all a blur in your memory, much like the events that transpired after your omega took over had been. You wish you could remember the trip over those events. You’d take green rolling hills over your own hands taking lives. 

It had been jarring waking in the cottage for the first time. A new place, a lack of memories getting there. You’re beginning to get tired of the pattern. You half expect to fall asleep and wake up somewhere new again most nights. You wouldn’t know any better. A slip of a pill into some food and you’d wake up somewhere halfway across the world. 

You like to think they’d at least warn you beforehand. 

John pulls the car into a parking lot, parking near a line of trees. Johnny pulls into the parking lot behind John, parking near the entrance. It’s on purpose, you know that much. Everything is about safety and making things look as inconspicuous as possible. Anyone could be a rat. Anyone could be watching. 

It’s windier here as you step out of the car, even though you haven't gone far from the cottage. Walking distance, if you were up for a hike. You’re not. 

“Come on, kitten.” Johnny says, guiding you through the parking lot and towards a path. 

You still don’t know what’s happening as you follow them, Johnny holding your hand as you step onto the rocky path. He leads the way, the others following. John is behind you, hovering in case you slip in the gravel. You do your best not to, despite how quickly Johnny is leading you. He’s more eager than Kyle had been, and you’re sure he’d be running if you could keep up. 

You begin to figure out what’s happening as the sound of waves crashing on the shore gets louder and louder. Your chest starts to constrict with emotion as the trees start to get sparser and sparser, a cliff edge visible over Johnny’s shoulder. You want to run now, you want to break ahead and race your way to the edge of the cliff. Johnny, even in his excited state, would catch you before you could take off and potentially hurt yourself. 

You might hurt yourself just trying to run. 

You hate it. 

The land opens before you as you reach the edge of the cliff. The expanse of the sea seems daunting so close, grey and choppy from the wind. Salty air blasts you in the face, rustling your jacket as you stand there above a small beach. It’s empty, but that’s expected for the middle of fall. All the tourists have gone home, those with vacation homes back in better weather for the winter. 

You’re glad you’re alone. You wouldn’t want anyone else ruining this moment. 

Kyle’s fingers wrap around yours as you stand there, staring down at the beach below. “Come on.” 

The gravel turns to dirt as it winds down the side of the cliff, getting steeper as you near the beach. You do nearly slip as you follow Johnny down to the sand, your boots quickly getting muddy. You’re glad for them, understanding why John chose boots over more comfortable shoes. 

You pause as your feet sink into sand. You stare out at the water, at the white crests of waves crashing onto the shore. It’s real. It’s not just some mirage, some painting in the background of your life. It’s really here. You’re really here. 

No one says anything as you take a few steps forward before squatting down. You scoop up a handful of sand, letting it slip through your fingers. It’s coarse against your cold skin, thicker and rockier than the sand you’re used to, but it’s still sand. It’s still a beach. 

You’re at the beach. 

You scoop up another handful of sand, letting it run through your fingers again. You want to put some of it in a jar and set it on the nightstand at the cottage. You want to stare at it and remind yourself you’re really at the coast, you’re really just a short drive away from the sea. You want the sand to sink into your skin and flow through your veins and fill every crack that’s formed in your mind.  

You’re really here. 

You stand up straight, staring out at the water again. Your pack is still behind you, silently watching you. You shuffle forward a couple steps, waiting for one of them to stop you, to grab you and keep you from getting closer, but none of them move. You widen your steps, treading through the soft sand until you reach the edge of the wetter sand where the water was earlier. It’s easier to walk on as you continue to approach the water, the sound of your pack treading through the soft sand disappearing behind you as you get closer and closer to the water. The waves flow up the beach, your feet getting closer and closer to where that water stops. 

You half expect them to stop you as you step forward, letting the waves hit your feet. The salty water washes away the mud and sand clinging to your rubber boots, rushing up over the tops of your feet. You stare down at the water, watching it surge upward and around your ankles. You’d keep walking if you were brave enough, let it get higher and higher until it soaked your clothes, but you know they’d stop you. It’s far too cold to risk getting wet. You can feel the chill of the water through your boots as it flows over your feet. 

You’re not sure how long you stand there, watching the water rush back and forth, feeling the pressure of it against your boots as you stand in the waves. You’re really here. You’re really standing in the sea. 

You finally turn after what seems like an eternity, making your way back up to the softer sand. All of them are standing in a line, watching you. You wonder what’s going through their heads, what they feel standing here. Relief? Happiness? Guilt? Shame? The wind whips at your back, coming right off the water, blowing their scents away from you. What you wouldn’t give to be able to smell them right now. 

Tears burn your eyes as you make your way up towards John, trudging through the sand. His cheeks and nose are pink from the cold wind, his beard longer than you’ve ever seen it. You don’t remember the last time you’ve really looked at him up close. His gaze is uncertain as he stares down at you, trying to gauge your next move. He can’t. You know he can’t and it makes you feel powerful. 

It shouldn’t, but it does. 

“Thank you.” You say finally, a tear sliding down your cheek. “Thank you.” 

You can hear them. They don’t know it, but you can. They think they’re speaking quietly, but in the silence of the morning, you can hear almost every word. Dr. Keller’s protests, John's quiet insistence. 

Leaving. 

That’s the word that caught your attention. Leaving. Someone is leaving. Someone is separating themselves from the pack again, and not just for a trip to town to go to the store. This meaning is different, it hangs differently in the air. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea right now.” Dr. Keller says, her voice just barely audible through the open sliding glass door. It’s open just a crack, just enough to hear what’s transpiring inside. 

“We won’t have another chance.” John says, his voice insistent. “We have to do this. She deserves it.” 

She. You. Whatever it is, it involves you. It always does. You can’t remember a time over the last few weeks when it hasn’t been about you. It’s always about you and you hate it. You almost wish things would go back to the way they were before, when you were a second thought, the one left behind.

You’re going to be left behind again. 

“John-” 

“I know.” John’s voice is louder again. “We have to do what’s best for our pack, and right now this is it.” 

The sliding door opens, the conversation over. Your stomach is churning, nausea eating its way up your esophagus as John crosses the deck towards where you’re seated. His steps are slow and quiet, almost like he’s approaching a wild animal. He might be, depending on how this conversation is going to go. 

How are you going to react? You expected it eventually. They’ll always leave, they’ll always put you last and think about themselves first. Are you upset? Are you angry? Is it a relief? 

You wish you could feel something right now. Instead you feel numb. Another promise broken, another lie told. 

“You’re leaving again.” You say, staring out at the horizon as John takes a seat next to you. You need to get it out first, say what you know before he can say it and break your heart again. 

He lets out a quiet sigh, leaning back in the chair. “We are, but you’re coming with us.” 

You turn to glance at him, taken aback by his words. You’re leaving too? You hadn’t considered this. The cottage is your prison. You are Rapunzel trapped by the Mother Gothel that is your pack, stuck in the tower for the rest of time. 

Leaving? 

“There’s something we need to take care of back in the states.” John explains. “You’re coming with us.” 

Back in the states? What could possibly be there that is left for you, for your pack? 

You don’t like the sound of that. You don’t like the sound of that one bit. 

To be notified about new chapters, please follow HERE and turn on notifications

[p1utofairy]

★ WHICH COMIC BOOK COUPLE ARE YOU AND YOUR PERSON MOST LIKE?

NOTE — love and light my babies ⭐️🧿 take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. for entertainment purposes only. your feedback is always so greatly appreciated, enjoy!

— PILE 1.

channeled couple(s) → batman x catwoman + jean grey x cyclops.

your person is a very hands-on, actively involved and dynamic individual who thrives in fast-paced environments. they’re very resourceful and can turn a negative into a positive in the blink of an eye – a true problem solver if you will. they learn things/adapt quicker than most and i feel like a lot of people regard them as an amazing friend. your person is very inquisitive and always wants to know more. once they complete a task, they’re on to the next; it can be hard to pin them down for long periods of time. they might move around a lot physically (could have OCD) but i’m more so picking up that they’ve lived here, there and everywhere.

they’re always on the go! i’m also picking up that your person is a little bit of a control freak but gosh they can't help it; they truly love to lead and be of service. you’re gonna find this so hot lowkey lol which is funny because i think you typically go for someone that let’s you control things and have the upper hand but with this person it’s not like that. their sense of control is different though — it’s not possessive, like “you’re mine!” or “no, you can’t go out wearing that!” instead, it’s more about seeing you struggle with something and insisting on helping you with it. you might say, “no, i’ve got it,” but they’ll respond, “here, just let me…” you get frustrated because you just said you could handle it, but there they go, taking it from your hands and easing the stress and pain you were carrying. wow, that was such a descriptive scenerio but it just randomly came to me lol. it’s giving 6H energy!

11:11 on the clock i’m blushing hehe your person is super sweet and chivalrous it’s very charming, pile 1. don’t even get me started on their physique WHEW you’re gonna love their arms/biceps…your person might even have a lot of tattoos (i’m seeing sleeve tats) and i can just see you fighting the urge to playfully bite them lol. they could be very athletic and go to the gym a lot. now switching gears, the comic book couples that similarly mirrors your connection is jean grey x cyclops + batman and catwoman. some of y’all might be rolling your eyes at the mention of jean and scott (my wolverine girlies i’m talking to you) but HERE ME OUT and let me cook!

i feel like you’re more of a wanderer and don’t care to be as involved as your person is, if that makes sense? gypsy by fleetwood mac just started playing in my mind. trials and tribulations throughout your life might have caused you to turn inwards, and you feel unsure about what it is your supposed to be doing/where life is exactly taking you. your presence is more calm and still and your person is again, more hands on and out there. like jean grey, you are very clever and passionate but there’s a temperamental side to you. you might have strong air sign placements in your chart because i feel that you’re very rational about your emotions – sometimes to a fault. i think you hold back a lot of the times (especially when it comes to love) in fear of hurting other people’s feelings or just being misunderstood. some of you could have people-pleasing tendencies. your person gives that scott summers vibe because their actions are typically driven by a sense of duty rather than a desire to please others.

whether you know it or not, you wield a lot of power and sometimes i think people take your kindness for weakness. what your person is really going to admire about you is how intentional you are especially when it comes to giving/receiving love. you are so gentle and kind with your person – soooo doting and attentive. you two deadass have a telepathic connection cause when one person is feeling off, the other one can sense it. your person is also tryna be funny and say that you’re used to dealing with logans (wolverine) but they’re coming to change that. LMAOOOO your person is funny as fuck if you couldn’t already tell.

you both compliment each other so well, spiritually and physically. that’s why i also channeled batman x catwoman because y’alls vibe just gives that. y’all know those crazy ass tiktok/IG comments when people are like i need to see the tape PLS yeah…y’all evoke that reaction from people. you both find each other incredibly sexy like the sexual tension between you both is gonna be insaneeeee. i’m also sensing a bit of a bratty energy coming from your end in terms of the attention your person gets lol they might be very sought after. it’s reminding of the ending scene of ‘the batman’ when selena is urging batman to come with her and part of him is superrrr tempted but duty calls. i promise you that your person only wants you, though. like i’m being so deadass when i say that they’re literally gonna be devoted to you.

OTHER CHANNELED MESSAGES —

“i work alone”, you might be used to the wolverine types but what you really need is a scott summers, back to black by amy winehouse, spotless mind by jhené aiko, maneater by nelly furtado, dylan, slayyyter, dua lipa, ESFJ, ISTJ, resemblance to callum turner, 333, sagittarius, 6H cancer, capricorn rising, 555.

— PILE 2.

channeled couple(s) → daredevil x elektra + rogue x gambit.

oooo right off the bat i’m hearing stand still by sabrina claudia. you’re so unaware that we're feeling, the same thing, the same damn thing…time is standing still and why are we still here? interesting, pile 2. very interesting! you and your person are more alike than you would think. from the outside you both appear very different, but energetically you both are sooo compatible. i’m hearing “from different worlds” and being drawn to the movie aladdin lol maybe that’s one of your favorite disney movies or your person’s? i think that’s why i was picking up on elektra x daredevil because it’s like…you and your person’s upbringing differed in a way but there’s a common ground in terms of how it’s shaped you both. one of you is more forward and hasty while the other is more reluctant and calculated.

you feel very confined and limited…like your environment is just so repetitive and boring. you’ve been hoping for something new to manifest – and you feel like you’re on the brink of it, it’s like you can almost reach out and touch it. for most of you, this is in regards to your connection with this person but for other’s it’s a job/traveling opportunity of some sort. you could possibly live in a very small town or somewhere that doesn’t have a lot to offer/keep you occupied. you’re about to see some progress sooner than you think, pile 2. give it about 1-3 months and watch how the magic happens! sagittarius season could be very significant for you.

your person is going to come into your life HOT and HEAVY, omg. you’re gonna be like wait wtf when did you get here?! nobody’s supposed to be here by deborah cox is playing in my head now – i’ve tried that love thing for the last time…my heart says no, no! nobody's supposed to be here…but you came along and changed my mind. LMAOOOO well pile 2 get ready cause your person is gonna sweep you off your damn feet. now it makes sense why i channeled rogue x gambit for you two because it’s like you’re taking of risk of some sort…the risk being your heart. trusting someone romantically is like risky business for you.

you’re so used to being able to predict outcomes and know what’s going to happen next, but with this person uhn uhn things are not so black and white. actually, there’s a lot of grey areas and that’s what’s going to scare you yet intrigue you about this person. you’re so rogue coded, awww. rogue has the ability to absorb the powers and memories of others through touch, so that makes her very guarded and reluctant to form close relationships. gambit is intrigued by her, but she is wary of him. i see this being similar to you and your person’s interactions…there might be an initial hesitation on your end but there’s an undeniable chemistry between the two of you!

your person is similar to gambit who is a smooth-talking, charming, and rough around the edges type of character. he’s very drawn to rogue’s beauty and strength (and similar to you) her self-imposed isolation and emotional baggage makes her hesitant to open up to him. i’m definitely picking up on the slow-burn trope for y’all, pile 2. although you really want this connection you might feel held back by self-doubt and fear intimacy/vulnerability. you’ve gotta work through this slowly but surely, my loves. it’s not easy but it’s necessary because this person absolutely loves you, pile 2. they’d put everything on the line for you if they had to.

just like gambit, this person will always be deeply in love with you no matter how much you try to shut them out or act like your feelings aren’t as deep as they really are. i also just want to mention that your person has such a way with words like UGH the way they say things/articulate themselves is gonna have you going feral lol they’re so knowledgeable and persuasive. it doesn’t help that they’re fine as fuck too lol you’re gonna be mentally shadow-boxing your anxiety whenever you’re around them because they’re just soooo damn charming fr!

i’m also being drawn to one of the biggest themes of rogue and gambit’s relationship which is rogue not being able to physically touch him without absorbing his memories and abilities – which is something that frightens her, not only because it could harm him but also because it’s something that strips away everything from the person she’s touching. now y’alls situation is obviously not that dramatic, but i am picking up that some of you that picked this pile could be virgins or celibate. i feel like the wait will make you both become even closer.

OTHER CHANNELED MESSAGES —

you make wanna by usher, “i never thought this was possible”, bit of a wild card (no pun intended), fiery personality, leo/aquarius placements, you’re their best friend, love on the brain by rihanna.

— PILE 3.

channeled couple → wanda maximoff x vision.

you and your person are too stinkin’ cute, pile 3. lmaooo i know that sounds so corny and cheesy but your person puts you in this kind of mood. the sun is shining sooo bright as i’m writing this. it’s like you light up their life and vice versa. you remind them of a warm summer day at the beach where you’re free to just roam around, have ice cream and relax. you’re like a breath of fresh air for this person. your person can be extremely sappy (in the best way possible) like i see them randomly just grabbing you and spinning you around or twirling you lol they’re like…always in a good mood. they might like to sing or dance mhm i get the vibe that they have a CD collection like they really love music sooo much! they will love to cook for you as well awww they’re so considerate, pile 3. you guys are definitely giving that old school cutesy romantic 60s couple vibe for sure, i could cry!

i channeled wanda maximoff x vision for a reason i see. i feel like when you first meet your person you’re going to be going through alot in your own life and i’m not necessarily getting that it’s anything bad but it seems like you’re either working through something or towards something. this could be you confronting some childhood trauma and/or previous relationship baggage. it might also be that you're not quite where you imagined you'd be in life right now, or maybe you're feeling a bit unsure about your current path. whatever the reason, your person will likely sense that you're feeling a little lost, and they'll pick up on that shift in your energy. you might meet your person while you’re traveling or outside of wherever you live (i’m hearing out the country for some) and i see you two forming a very close friendship first. infrunami by steve lacy is coming to mind – girl, you're the one i want, you’re the one i need…i’m beggin' you, please. can you come back to me? 'cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me. hm for some of you this person could be a mutual or you somehow know them through your friends? if not, there just seems to be a sense of familiarity between the two of you.

i’m hearing “wow what a small world!” so tbh you could meet this person through one of your friends lol now i’m hearing best friend’s brother by victoria justice PLEASE that’s so random but on brand. also i’m picking up that your person could wear glasses? they are very inquisitive and can read you like a book, pile 3.

like vision, your person can pick up on your emotions, sensing when something is off even if you don’t express it. though vision is a synthezoid, his close connection to wanda and his time with the avengers allowed him to empathize deeply with human emotions. over time, his understanding of these feelings went beyond his programming, and his love for wanda amplified his ability to sense when she’s in distress. he offers comfort to her when she's struggling with her powers or grief. i feel like this relationship will be therapeutic for the both of you! you scratch their back, they’ll scratch yours.

you are similar to wanda in the sense that you can alter/create your reality – YOU have the power, but you have to believe it first. you doubt yourself a lot and create a lot of chaos within your mind because you can’t decide whether or not you should do something or if you’re even making the right decision. i think this has a lot to do with your childhood/upbringing, you stay in the shadows instead of being in the spotlight. that’s the problem, pile 3. i think you’re afraid of taking up space in fear of what others might say or think. there’s this sense of imposter syndrome. in order to bring this relationship into fruition you’ve gotta trust and believe in yourself, my loves. you’re an absolute badass – pop out and act like it! 10:10 on the clock. stop getting so caught up in the idea of what you think should be perfect. nothing and no one is perfect and ironically that’s the beauty of life lol shit ain’t always sweet and that’s okay. the world keeps spinning. it might not seem like it now but you will be more than okay, trust me! your person can’t wait to be in your orbit eeek i’m giddy at the thought of you two connecting. you don’t even realize it but your spirit guides are working overtime to make this connection happen hehe it starts with you though, babe. buckle up cause your person is ready. are you down to ride?

OTHER CHANNELED MESSAGES —

michael, breakfast at tiffany’s, NYC, month of may, one of the girls by the weeknd ft. lily rose depp & jennie, looks like MBJ, leo, 7H, 6H/virgo venus.

[firewasabeast]

Fell asleep then woke back up still pissed, because:

Tim was clear when he decided on bi buck, Tommy was chosen on purpose. Someone who fit in with the team already and could fit in Buck’s life. It solved the outsider problem.

They wrote Chimney talking about how cool he was, made him and Eddie friends, had Eddie invite him to a virtual bday party, had Bobby give a huge stamp of approval saying Tommy was good for Buck, that he was good people. Made a big deal of the wedding/coming out scene.

They could have made this an off screen breakup at the beginning of season 8. Honestly, I would have accepted it better. But they brought Tommy back, showed again how he fit with Buck’s world. Showed there was no hostility between him and Eddie. They showed Tommy going above and beyond for Buck, sleeping on a couch with too small of a blanket, doting on him, staring at him with so much love, “breaking the curse,” etc.

I don’t buy Tommy’s lame excuse for breaking it off. That’s such crappy, high school writing. This man is 40 fucking years old, he’s six months into this relationship, and I’m supposed to believe he just suddenly decides he and Buck aren’t made to last? That Buck needs other partners? Please!

It also pisses me off that they had him get Buck basketball game tickets for their anniversary. He has got to know by now that Buck doesn’t actually like basketball. And why even have Abby be part of it at all? That was all part of the red string of fate theory, so it felt like an extra slap in the face to include it in their breakup.

The whole thing was so poorly executed, and it seems wrong that they had Oliver and Lou do a whole ass interview at the end of 7 to just… go nowhere in 8. Then have Lou do two exit interviews when he’s not a main anyway, so it feels worse to actually hear from him (especially when he seems as genuinely confused as we do).

They should have had it be some random guy. They shouldn’t have made the effort to include Tommy as much as they did. They shouldn’t have mentioned wanting bucktommy to be like tarlos. Shouldn’t have mentioned getting Buck off his hamster wheel. They gave fucking Taylor more time than this, and she spent the majority of her screen time using Buck to further her career.

And someone, somewhere down the line could have made a statement to stop fucking harassing Lou, seeing as they’ve known for at least a few months that he was no “threat” to anyone or anything.

[enfinizatics]

dear americans,

as a polish queer woman and human rights activist, i know exactly how you're feeling right now and what to expect from these elections. i lived through the 2015-2023 regime of pis, a right-wing populist party that divided families in the same way trump did. i’ve experienced the rise of fascism in poland, the influence of far-right parties like konfederacja, and their “santa’s little helpers”—ordo iuris, an ultra-conservative catholic organization (banned in many countries, mind you) that helped enforce a near-total abortion ban and runs anti-queer campaigns in public spaces. i supported the black protests in 2016 as a middle schooler when they first tried to ban abortion. as an adult, i actively participated in the 2020 women’s strike, running from police tear gas daily after they finally passed the ban. i supported friends who faced charges.

i’ve lived through intense homophobia in poland as a queer teen and adult. i survived the first pride march in my hometown, where far-right extremists threw stones and glass at us. i endured the anti-queer propaganda spread by the ruling party in state-owned media. i survived the “rainbow night,” poland’s own stonewall moment in summer 2020, when police arrested around 50 queer activists following the arrest of margo, a nonbinary activist. i survived the "lgbt-free zones," the targeted violence, the slurs from strangers on the street, and the protests i held against queerphobia. it was hard as fuck, but i survived.

but just because i survived, it doesn’t mean others did. many women died because of the abortion ban—marta, justyna, izabela, dorota, joanna, maria, and many others who didn’t survive pis’s draconian anti-abortion laws. milo, kacper, michał, zuzia (she was 12), wiktor, and other queer and trans kids and young adults took their own lives because of the relentless queerphobia.

despite all of this, our experience in poland can serve as a guide now. here are some tips for staying safe and how we, polish queers and women, organized under the regime:

safety first, always. if you know someone who’s had an abortion, no you don’t. if you know someone is trans, no you don’t. if you know people who help with safe abortions, no you don’t—at least not until you know it’s 100% safe to share. if you are queer or have had an abortion, only share this with people you trust fully. most importantly, not everyone has to be an activist just because they’re part of a minority. if it feels unsafe to share that you're queer, trans, etc., then don’t. it doesn’t make you any less queer.

use secure, encrypted messaging like signal for conversations on potentially risky topics, such as queerness, abortion, organizing counter-actions, protests—anything that might be used against you.

stay anonymous online. if you want to research or report something without surveillance, do not use regular internet. get a vpn (mullvad is affordable and reliable), download the tor browser (for both onion and standard links), and if you plan to whistleblow, consider using a riseup email account.

organize and build networks. community is everything now. support each other, foster independence, because your government won’t have your back. set up collectives, grassroots movements. create lists of trusted professionals—lawyers, doctors, etc.—who can offer support.

to lawyers and doctors: please consider pro-bono work. this is what got us through poland’s hardest times. your work will be needed now more than ever.

for protests or risky actions: always write a pro-bono lawyer’s number on your arm with a permanent marker.

get to know the anarchist black cross federation and other resources on safety culture: "Starting an anarchist black cross group: A guide"; Still We Rise - A resource pack for transgender and non-gender conforming people in prison; Safe OUTside the system by the Audre Lorde Project;

for safe abortion info or involvement: get familiar with womenhelpwomen.

stay radical, stay strong, stay informed: The Anarchist Library

if i forgot to (or didn't) include something, don't hesitate to reblog this post with other resources.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

I’m thinking about the right words to say about the US election, and I just can’t find them. 

I would love to give you some words of hope and comfort and encouragement. I would love to give a passionate speech that shines some light on this dark day - but I can’t. 

I’m not feeling optimistic today. I feel absolutely punched in the gut. They elected the rapist. They could’ve elected the first woman president, and instead the rapist won. The guilty-of-34-felonies, misogynistic, racist, queerphobic rapist won. I’m not even from the US and I feel terrified. 

I’m thinking about the people over there. The queer people, the women, the people of color, the immigrants, the disabled people, all the people who were targets of the hate that fueled his election campaign.

I’m thinking about the people who lost loved ones to preventable causes because of him, and about the ones who still will, and I feel my stomach turning. 

I’m thinking about the victims of sexual violence and I think about all that therapy talk of healing your inner child and I wonder how the fuck we are supposed to do that when we see abusers become the most powerful men in the world. 

I’m thinking about my long distance best friend, a lesbian enby of color, not from the US but from a country that’ll definitely suffer from the effects of this election, and how they fear for their life and how I don’t know how to comfort them because I fear for their life too. 

I’m thinking about growing up in Germany and learning about our horrible history, and how as a kid it was absolutely unthinkable that someone like Hitler would ever be voted for again, and if we could travel back in time, all of us would’ve stopped him. Wouldn’t we? 

I’m thinking about my uncle who congratulated me to my coming out and then, at the very same family gathering, proudly told us he is voting for a Nazi party because “Hitler was right about some things” and how I went home and cried my eyes out. I’m thinking about all the people in the US who feel the same pain with their family members right now. 

I’m thinking about you. And maybe right now that’s all I can do. 

I love you. Stay safe. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[wonderjanga]

Gender? Who Cares About That?

Billy’s never really been one to really care about gender. Look, if you wanna be a girl, you’re a girl, same if you wanna be a boy. Or at least that’s what he thinks. He just doesn’t get the hype about it. So, whenever he feels like it, he just turns into a girl. No one really cares and he’s been doing it since the sixties so he’ll keep doing it. Well, at least no one cared until nowadays.

Marvel: *in female form picking up some rubble to clear it after a villain attack*

Reporter: “Ma’am!” *trying to flag Marvel down*

Marvel: “Yes, miss?” *carefully puts rubble down*

Reporter: “Hello, ma’am. We at channel five news have been meaning to ask you a few questions. Are you related to Captain Marvel, and if so, are you blood related?”

Marvel: *visible confusion* “Uh… I guess.” *honestly thinks it’s a little funny* “But, miss, I am Captain Marvel.”

Reporter: “Huh…?”

Marvel: “Did you not ask any of the citizens?”

Reporter: *looks to the camera guy before looking back at Billy* “Yes- I’m sorry, I was under the impression Captain Marvel was a man.”

Marvel: “I am.”

Reporter: “Yet you’re a woman…?”

Marvel: “Yeah. Whenever I feel like it, I turn into a girl. Then, whenever I feel like it, I turn into a boy.”

Tourist: “So you’re gender-fluid?”

Marvel: “What is that?” *sounds confused*

Tourist: “Literally just what you described.”

Marvel: “Oh. Then I guess I am. I didn’t know there was a label for it.” *

For reference, female Marvel looks like Marilyn just with blue eyes and black hair. As for why he doesn’t know what gender-fluid means? Well apparently it originated in 1994, and in my AU he was trapped in a time bubble and got out in 2016. He’s an old man guys. He can’t work computers. They’re too overcomplicated. If you were to ask a random citizen from Fawcett, they wouldn’t know either.

Marvel: *back in male form, frosting some cookies at the Watchtower*

Supes: “Cap?”

Marvel: “Yes?”

Supes: “So… uh…” *awkward and looks the other JL members*

Other JL Members: *peaking from behind a corner*

Supes: “We just want you to know we support you.” *awkward smile and pat on shoulder*

Marvel: “Cool? What’re you supporting?”

Supes: “Well you know… Do you really not know why?”

Marvel: “No…?”

*silence*

Marvel: “Do you want a cookie?”

Supes: “Yes, please.”

Yeah, he doesn’t care. Like stated earlier, he doesn’t care, and neither did the Fawcett’s citizens. He didn’t even think this was something that people were supported for. That’s why he had no clue what Clark was talking about.

Marvel and GL: *have monitor duty together*

GL: “So, dude, are you going to the pride parade in Metropolis?”

Marvel: “Why would I go to one of those?”

GL: “Cause you’re gender fluid?”

Marvel: “What?” *already forgot what that meant*

GL: “You know how you switch between girl and boy all the time?”

Marvel: “Ohhhh that. I still don’t see what that has to do with the pride parade.”

GL: “Dude, that’s apart of pride.”

Marvel: “I thought pride was for queers?”

GL: “Yeah. You being gender fluid makes you queer.”

Marvel: “Really?”

GL: “Yup.”

Marvel: “Huh. I had no idea. I guess I could go, but I don’t really wanna go alone. Are you going?”

GL: *nods head* “Me and a couple others.”

Marvel: “ ‘kay, then can I go with you guys?”

GL: “Hell yeah, man!”

Bonus:

Mary does the same thing as Billy! Whenever she turns into a boy though, she looks like Billy because twin power.

[watchmegetobsessed]

UNMATCHED

A/N: it's been like 6 months since i last posted something and honestly, i haven't even written anything, things are very shitty these days but i felt the motivation to write this quickly after watching 'tell me lies' and 'rivals' these past weeks so here we go! if student-prof type of fics are not your thing then don't read it

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNING: age gap, student-professor relationship

SUMMARY: Harry is very strict about staying away from students as a young and handsome professor, but there is one person he can't get out of his head and a Christmas party brings an unexpected turn.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry hates these type of parties, mostly because he can’t imagine inviting dozens of students into his home, his private space, have the roam around and spend an entire evening with them, talking and pretending like they aren’t just trying to get a better grade at the end of the semester with their too friendly behavior. Or, in his case, some girls try to push the boundaries and flirt with him, hoping to hook up with him. 

He is not stupid. He has heard students whisper about him several times, he notices the heart eyes when he is talking in class and he has gotten several phone numbers on papers since he started his PHD studies and started teaching last year. His friends teased him about being the heartthrob of the faculty, but he didn’t think it would actually happen and to this extent. To avoid any possible scandals, not that he planned to make any, he has put on quite a rigid mask towards the students to scare them off from even trying, though that hasn’t stopped some of them from wanting to shoot their shot. 

He wouldn’t have come to this party, he would rather be home and continue his research that’s still not even close to being done, but Professor Bradford, or Stella as she requests Harry to call her, is the only person he gets along with in the faculty. She is 18 years older than Harry, but still younger than the rest of the old men who have been teaching here since probably before the declaration of independence was signed. Those men are the reason younger people don’t like classic literature anymore, with their outdated ways of teaching and unwillingness to bring something modern into their lectures they are scaring the new generations away. But not Stella. She is one of the reasons Harry went into his PHD and now he gets to work with her. He couldn’t just reject her invitation for her annual Christmas Party she holds for her students and some colleagues. 

Now he is standing by the wall, drinking mulled wine and just gritting his teeth, trying to calculate how early is too early to leave. A couple of girls have already tried to chat him up, they like to circle him, leave him almost no room to escape and then make him talk about school stuff, but then they slyly bring up personal things, hoping to break his usual character, but he sees through them always. 

Harry’s best friend, Niall always teases him that he should just give in and have fun with one of them. His morals are a lot looser than Harry’s, that’s for sure. 

Just as he is about to look for the bathroom, not to use it but to hide for a bit, another group of girls spots him and he can already feel his skin crawling as they approach him from down the hallway. He is quick to assess the situation, but he realizes he has no chance of fleeing before they reach him. 

“Profesor! So good to see you here!” 

And here we go. 

It goes the same, they are extremely nice and inquiring about his plans for the next semester and then suddenly they are talking about summer and Harry knows they are moments away from asking what he’ll be doing once the school year is over. One of the girls is talking about going to Italy on a yacht and the others chime in with their own ridiculously over the top plans while Harry is avoiding to even look at them, his eyes roam around the other guests. 

That’s when he sees her. 

Just down the hall he can peek into the kitchen and there she is, with a boy Harry assumes to be her boyfriend. He’s seen them around campus the past few weeks, he even waited for her after Harry’s class and saw them walk away together as he fought the way his stomach churned every time. 

Since the moment she walked into his class at the beginning of the semester Harry has been feeling like he is losing his mind. Whether it be the way she laughs with her friends before class or focuses with undivided attention as Harry explains something by the board, or says hello every time she passes him in the cafeteria, Harry can’t stop thinking about her for days after even though he knows such feelings should be banned from his mind when it comes to a student. Every time he catches himself thinking about her he wants to throw himself out the window, but he still can’t fight it. There’s something in her that draws him in and swallows him whole and it’s not just the looks. Unlike a lot of students who take his classes for easy credits or to drool after him, she is there to learn as much as she can and she’s had the most brilliant thoughts on certain subjects Harry has ever encountered, making him almost jealous he wasn’t the one to think about them. 

She is… unmatched. And forbidden, but impossible to ignore. She’s been his vice for months.

From where he stands it appears she is having a fight with said boyfriend, her always cheerful expression is now rather upset and confused while the boy seems to be over the conversation, almost irritated by her, dismissed. Harry tries to appear not too obvious about watching them, but he is also way too fixated on her to ignore what’s happening just down the hallway. 

He glances away just for a few seconds, but the next time he looks back he sees the boy stomping away, irritated, while she is left there, pulling on her coat before disappearing through the backdoor, swallowed by the darkness of the unlit back terrace. 

And before Harry could stop himself, he is already moving.

“Excuse me girl,” he mumbles disorientedly as he slips out of the small circle. 

He places his glass to a nearby table and then grabs his own coat from the wardrobe in the hallway before making his way outside. After her. 

The moment he steps out into the cold a short sense of realization washes over him that he definitely shouldn’t be here, that he is crossing a line, but then another voice in his head tunes it out, convincing him that he is just making sure she is okay and there’s nothing wrong with that. 

Stopping by the door his gaze rakes through the terrace, but he doesn’t see her, until she spots her slouched form sitting on the bottom of the stairs leading out to the lawn. He hears her sniffling, but she hasn’t acknowledged his presence yet, if she noticed it at all. There’s a couple of moments of hesitation on his end, he can hear the rational side of him screaming somewhere in the back of his mind, telling him to turn around and just walk back inside, yet he still finds himself moving towards him and then that voice is silenced. 

“Everything alright?” Harry asks from the top of the stairs, but he startles her so much that she jumps to her feet and backs away a few feet. That’s when he sees her tearful eyes and red nose. 

“S-Sorry, I don’t–”

“Hey, it’s all good. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just checking in.”

She squints her eyes at him and that’s when he realizes she must not even see his face since the light is coming right behind him. So he walks down the stairs and then finally his face is lit and realization settles in her eyes. 

“Oh, Professor Styles. Hi.”

“Hello Y/N. Are you okay?” he asks again, to which she just chuckles bitterly. 

He can’t miss that even with tears running down her cheeks and her eyelashes stuck together, she looks so fucking beautiful it baffles him. He has to fight the urge to reach out and touch her tear-soaked cheeks. 

“Um, yeah, everything is… perfect,” she scoffs, reaching into her pockets, probably looking for tissues, but finding none so Harry grabs one from his inner pocket, handing it over to her, her fingers brushing against his for the shortest second as she takes it and then it’s over, but his skin keeps tingling. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles before drying her face as much as she can. “I’m good. Just…” She looks at him and changes her mind. “Ah, wouldn’t want to bore you with my nonsense personal drama.”

“Drama is never boring, have you learned nothing in my class?” he jokes and it actually makes her laugh. 

“This drama is not worthy of being taught in class though.”

“I bet some of the big names thought the same thing upon writing what we read in class these days.”

“So you’re saying I should write about how my boyfriend is fed up with me because I told him something he did hurt me?”

“That sounds like something I bet a lot of people would want to read about,” he smiles and when she mirrors it, he can feel his chest expanding. Somewhere way too deep in his mind an alarm goes off, but it quickly becomes one with the void and all he can think about is her. “Actually I can think of a few great pieces that are about similar topics.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, believe it or not, you’re not the first one to experience this.”

The way she looks at him is setting him on fire. The mixture of sadness, tiredness and gratitude towards his attempt to cheer her up is still making her glow in a way Harry has never seen before on any woman. 

“Do you mind analyzing one for me right now?”

“I’d be happy to.”

The party is completely tuned out for the two of them. First they actually talk about a novel, but soon it turns into sharing their favorite books and authors, their guilty pleasure reads,  recommendations for each other and even more personal bits Harry would never share with a student, but Y/N is the exception. 

They have no idea how much time passes as they stand outside and Harry ignores how the cold starts to sting his fingertips even in his pockets, because he knows that if they go inside this bubble will pop and he is too selfish to let that happen just yet. 

When there’s a short silence Harry notices that she is probably slipping back into what happened earlier and when she looks at him again he already knows she is about to share.

“I gave him a chance and explicitly told him not to fuck me over, because I can’t deal with that again. But all he has been doing is manipulating to believe that I’m always in the wrong.”

“It’s impossible for you to always be in the wrong.”

“I know. Well, part of me knows, but then I always go back to thinking that he is right, I must have messed up something.”

“That just proves that you have self-criticism, that you don’t just think everything you do is perfect.”

She sighs and looks away, her gaze distant as she battles herself inside her head, a feeling Harry knows very well, unfortunately. It doesn’t sit right with him that she is visibly struggling because of an immature guy’s untreated problems. She deserves so much more, but how can he tell that without crossing a line?

“Give it some time and you’ll see it clearer. Use your critical thinking on his actions as well, not just yours and don’t settle for less than your worth.”

“You think I did that?” she asks, eyes jumping back to meet his gaze. “You think I settled for less than my worth?”

There’s more behind her eyes than the words she said out loud and he is torn, because he can feel himself being pulled in more than ever, like she just opened the door the slightest and he has the chance to slip in. It’s the first time he senses something on her part and after all the yearning he is eager to take the chance. 

“I think you deserve a lot more, Y/N. You’re brilliant, bright and give so much to others, you should get the same amount if not more back. If someone can’t see that, then they don’t deserve you.”

For a second he wishes he didn’t say a thing, he regrets crossing the line and he fears her reaction, but then… 

Then he forgets everything. Because she is kissing him. 

It happens fast, one moment she is staring up at him with doe eyes, the next her lips are crashing against his, her hands grabbing onto the lapels of his coat. He barely recovers from the shock when she is already pulling away.

“I-I’m so sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, I just—Oh my Go–”

Her stammering is quickly cut short when he kisses her, his hands holding her jaw to angle her face perfectly and while her kiss was closed, rushed and panicked, this one is different. He is quick to beg for her to open her lips so he can explore as much of her as humanly possible, he is letting all the passions loose that he’s been locking up these past months and when she returns it just as eagerly it just pushes him even further. 

They inch back to the wall of the house and when he pins her against it a moan slips past her swollen lips, completely maddening him. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against her lips, kissing her jawline, savoring the sweet taste of her skin that’s supposed to be cold, but it’s actually burning. For him. 

He keeps one hand on the side of her neck, the other one digs into her hip through her coat and she keeps pushing against him, while her hands wander under his coat, they are on his waist, back and when they move to his lower stomach, brushing against his belt, something snaps inside him. 

But before he could completely lose his mind the backdoor opens and he quickly sobers up, pulling her farther away from the corner so they can’t be seen. 

“...and that was actually crazy,” a girl speaks up, oblivious to how Harry has Y/N pinned against the wall just a few feet away. They are both breathing heavily, but she has her face buried in his shoulder while he covers his mouth with a hand, adrenaline racing through his veins. 

“Ah shit, I’m out of cigarettes,” another girl says.

“Mm let’s get out of here then. I think Max said they are having a little party as well.”

“Okay.”

Then the door opens again and the voices disappear, but reality hits Harry hard in the head.

He slowly pulls back, enough to look at her face and when he sees her swollen lips and slightly smeared mascara he almost combusts. 

Because he wants nothing more than to take her, right here and then everywhere else in the world, but he also realizes what he just did and this time his rational side wins. 

“Fuck,” he gasps as he jumps back, cupping a hand over his mouth.

“I wanted it–”

“Y/N, stop!” he cuts her off. “Fuck, this was a mistake.”

“But I wanted it! You didn’t–”

“I said stop!” he barks and she shuts her mouth right away. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

And before she could protest again or worse, kiss him again, he is already storming back inside, across the house towards the front door.

“Harry! I haven’t seen you all night!” Stella catches him, but he just wants to get as far away from this house and from Y/N as possible.

“I’m sorry, I need to go. I’ll talk to you later,” is all he manages to say before he is already out the door.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[lucyblue101]

You are so MEAN to me 🤧

Satoru x reader

Pure fluff

It had been a long, exhausting day for both of you. The moment you stepped through the door, you were already kicking off your shoes, dreaming of sinking into the couch and enjoying a few minutes of quiet before even thinking about anything else. You'd barely sat down when you heard the door open behind you. Satoru walked in, his usual smile a little softer, a little more tired than usual. But the moment his eyes met yours, a spark returned to them.

"Hey," he said, crossing the room in long strides to stand before you. “So, I was thinking…” He leaned over, hands on his knees, bringing his face closer to yours. “How about some cuddle time?”

You smiled, reaching out to gently pat his arm. "Hey, Satoru. I just need a moment to decompress, alright? Been a pretty long day.”

His face fell immediately, the slight furrow in his brow deepening. “Oh.” He straightened up slowly, staring down at you like you’d just told him you were moving to another continent.

“Just give me a second to breathe, alright?” you reassured him. “I’ll be with you in just a few minutes.”

He stood there, looking at you in utter disbelief, then scoffed softly. “Oh, sure. I get it. I’m… too much for you right now.” He crossed his arms, jutting his lower lip out dramatically. “I just wanted to cuddle, you know. Just wanted to feel loved after an insanely difficult day. But I can see that’s just… impossible for you.”

“Satoru…” you started, holding back a smile. But he was already turning on his heel, practically flouncing out of the room.

"Unbelievable,” he muttered to himself as he stormed down the hallway. "And after everything I’ve done today, too."

You watched him disappear into the bedroom, the door swinging shut with an exaggerated finality. For a moment, you sat there, debating if you really wanted to go in right away. But you knew exactly what he was up to he was trying to make you feel bad. This was Satoru Gojo in all his dramatic, sensitive glory, and you could practically picture him curled up in a ball on the bed, sulking.

After a sigh, you pushed yourself up and made your way to the bedroom, pushing open the door to see exactly what you expected: Satoru, lying on his side, knees pulled up to his chest, and a pitiful pout on his face as he stared off toward the wall. He was practically radiating gloom.

“Really?” you said, leaning against the doorframe.

He didn’t move, but his voice came out muffled. “Don’t talk to me. I’ve been thoroughly neglected. Abandoned. Left to wither away with my poor, broken heart.”

You rolled your eyes but walked over to the bed, lying down beside him. He shifted slightly, giving you just enough room to fit yourself next to him, but he still refused to look at you.

“Oh, now you’re here,” he said, voice heavy with melodrama. “Now that I’ve been left alone for… what, five minutes? But who’s counting?”

You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, letting your fingers trace gentle circles along his side. “Poor thing. You must’ve had it so rough today.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice tinged with relief. “Finally, someone who understands.”

You bit back another smile, nodding along as he continued, clearly in full whining mode now. “I’m always fighting, you know? Always running around, saving the day. And I don’t complain. I never complain. All I ask for is a little appreciation. A little affection. And you…” He paused, looking up at you with those big, blue eyes, managing to look completely heartbroken. “You, of all people, won’t even give me that?”

Your thumb traced along his cheek as you murmured, “I’m sorry, Satoru. That was so mean of me.”

“Yes! It was,” he said, nodding vehemently, his face lighting up with righteous indignation. “All I wanted was some cuddles, maybe a few kisses, and instead, I was cast aside like yesterday’s leftovers!”

“Not leftovers,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “More like… dessert. I saved the best for last.”

He sniffled dramatically, and you could hear his breathing catch as if he were on the brink of tears. “If you really loved me…” He gave a little pause, like he was about to say something devastating. You both knew exactly where this was going.

“If you love me,” he continued, his voice shaking slightly, “you’ll rub my feet. They hurt so much from all the running around today, from all the sacrifices I make.”

You snorted at the absurdity of it. “Satoru,” you said, the smile tugging at your lips despite yourself, “I do love you, so so much. But there is no way in hell I’m touching your feet.”

His face fell instantly. The small sniffle, the dramatic sigh—it was almost comical how quickly he shifted into full-blown pout mode. “Oh…” he said, voice impossibly wounded. “Well, if that’s the case, I guess my back, shoulders, stomach, and chest will do fine. Thank you for your service.”

You resisted the urge to laugh, giving him a soft but firm push. “You’re such a big baby.”

“I am not a baby,” he insisted, although the way he curled up into your side, resting his head on your chest, told a very different story. “I’m just… sensitive. You should know that by now.”

You sighed dramatically, knowing you’d never hear the end of it until you gave in. “Alright, fine,” you muttered, starting with a gentle rub to his lower back. “But you owe me, Gojo.”

He sighed dramatically, the breath releasing like a contented sigh from a cat as he melted under your touch. "I already know," he whispered. "Just keep rubbing. That’s all I need.”

His voice dropped into a soft, needy tone, and you could feel his body go limp in your arms as you worked your way over his shoulders, easing out the tension that had been building there all day. He hummed softly, closing his eyes and letting himself fully relax into you. It was so ridiculous, but you couldn’t deny that he had you wrapped around his finger.

“You know, this is how you show your love,” he said with a satisfied sigh, still lying comfortably against you.

“Sure, whatever you say,” you muttered, rubbing his chest now as he melted into your touch. “But I’m only doing this because I love you.”

“Exactly,” he said, clearly content. “Now you get it.”

As you continued to rub his back, shoulders, and chest, Satoru’s body gradually grew heavier, his breathing steadying as he relaxed more and more. He still maintained that little bit of drama, but now it was mixed with contentment and a hint of a grin that he couldn’t quite hide.

You smiled down at him, knowing full well that Satoru Gojo was a handful. But even if he could be ridiculously dramatic, you loved him anyway—every ridiculous, pouty part of him.

Tag list (just let me know if you wanna go on it 🥹)

@canigotosleep--plz

@itsafairytalekay

@haruhatake

@hargun-s

@tibibibi123

@moonchhu

@mistymuii

I really appreciate feedback and would like to know what everyone thinks 🫶🏻

[rhythmic-idealist]

I’ve found some of the most genuine care around me from my coworkers.

Maybe it’s that this is how I’ve always conducted friendships, that I never knew how to hang out outside of high school lunches either. But standing around after work is where we talk about our brains and childhoods and philosophy and hypothetical economic systems and fucking mortality and whatever else. There was a moment in time when I thought the first time I was gonna meet a coworkers kids was gonna be babysitting them for free because he was at the doctor a lot because maybe he had cancer. I’m just commenting bc I know the coworker relationship is sometimes talked about online as a universally annoying one - and there are some coworkers I do not enjoy the company of - but that’s where I’ve found some of the most warmth in my day to day outside of my partners. It’s also where I’ve found people who have made me feel miserable, don’t get me wrong, but it’s where some of my most meaningful relationships are. Nothing is WRONG with that.

There’s awkwardness. I’m very loud and some people are very quiet, and so I always feel unwanted, like an intrusion on their quiet. But I gave union advice to a coworker once and now he comes to me and asks me sometimes, and when he noticed I was taking Lyft home some days he offered to drive me home when I needed it. Are we still able to chat? Not much. One time I asked him “what artist is this [playing rn?]” as if particularly niche, and you could see the light die behind his eyes as he had to say “Kendrick” and I’m still recovering. But if one of us needs something I know we got us.

Recently we were worried one of us was going to be unfairly fired. Several of us were talking to each other and trying to strategize before the coworker who was at risk even had another shift scheduled.

And I had a coworker who seemed to hate my guts for months, and it’s not like he seeks me out to hang out now, but he’ll start an occasional respectful conversation with me because at a meeting with our union rep I said his name several times in a list of people I knew were being denied an earned promotions. (Context: People were doing all of the job duties of those promotions, without being acknowledge with the appropriate title and pay.) I didn’t say it because I liked him, I said it because we’re a union and because I did care about the guy’s livelihood.

This isn’t saying do what I do or enjoy what I enjoy socially or tick how I tick, this is just. Storytelling. Vague, anonymous storytelling.

Work is a place where I know when my coworker is expecting a new baby, and I know when my coworker took time off to attend a funeral, and I know when my coworker’s last name changes because they’ve gotten married, and I know when they’re out sick. We are so in each other’s lives. Corporate “we are a family” is in service of loyalty to the company and is bs. But being in community and solidarity with my coworkers as huge. I don’t know my next door neighbors very well. But my coworkers have me. I’ve got them.

i need everyone to know that community is what will save us all in every single way imaginable. you forming a bond with your neighbour or coworker might help them move house or feel less alone or have the courage to leave an unhealthy living environment. you helping a stranger might provide them with hope. in turn, being able to lean on your community in times of need will save you. your broader bonds with your community are the revolution we need. our society seeks to divide and separate us in so many ways but we are all so much more united in our struggles and joys than you are made to believe. we need to hold onto each other very tightly.

[kimmie2me]

A Taste of Care

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Pro Hero!Bakugou x AFAB!Pro Hero!fem reader

.....

The invitation to the annual Pro Hero Gala lands with a quiet thud on your desk, and you nearly ignore it, honestly – it’s one of those events everyone expects top heroes to attend, but no one actually enjoys. You wonder how the organizers can still think it’s a good idea. You glance over at Bakugou, who rolls his eyes the second he catches you even looking at it. “Not a chance,” he grumbles, turning back to whatever report he’s pretending to focus on. “Hell’ll freeze over before I show up there.”

“Yeah, but…they invited us both.” You can’t help it—the thought of skipping nags at you, guilt bubbling up. You turn the envelope in your hands, debating. “I mean, if we don’t go, they’ll probably think we don’t care or something…”

“Good,” he mutters, "Because I do not care."

You make the decision then, mostly because you can’t imagine telling someone who went through the trouble of inviting you that you just… didn’t feel like going. “Fine,” you say, sighing. “I’ll go, then. You don’t have to worry about it.”

A heavy pause lingers, and then Bakugou’s gaze snaps up. “You what?”

“I’ll go. On your behalf. It’s fine,” you insist, smiling a little to soften it. But there’s something in his eyes, and you think he feels that tug of guilt too, though he’d never say it. Finally, he just sighs and mutters, “Fine, fine. I’m going. Don’t start whining about this later.”

And that’s how you end up at the Gala, arm in arm with one very reluctant Bakugou.

.....

You’ve barely been here for an hour, and though Bakugou’s already made three attempts to pull you towards the exit, you’re still here, being polite and nodding along as people pass by, each one taking a little energy from you with their relentless questions.

At some point, a waiter passes by with a tray of drinks, and you reach out, half-relieved for a distraction. The waiter places a delicate, glass thimble of juice in your hand, barely bigger than your thumb. You eye it, perplexed.

“One sip,” you murmur, taking a cautious taste. It’s sweet and refreshing—too good, actually, like someone figured out the perfect formula for juice. The flavor surprises you, so you hold it in your hands like you’re savoring a precious heirloom, taking tiny sips to make it last.

“Hey,” Bakugou says, turning back from where he’s been roped into some pointless conversation with another hero. His eyes narrow when he sees the minuscule cup in your hands. “You tryna torture yourself or somethin’? Why’re you drinkin’ it if you don’t even like it?”

You blink, mildly surprised by his assumption. “No, I do like it! It’s just... y’know... small. And I didn’t want to—um, ask for more.” You hesitate, aware of the ridiculousness of it all. “They might think I’m being greedy, you know?”

Bakugou makes a face, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re kiddin’ me.” He sounds genuinely irritated now, and it’s impossible not to feel embarrassed, though you give a nervous smile.

“No, no! It’s fine, 'Suki, really.” You tug at his sleeve to keep him from storming over to whoever poured this pathetic excuse for a drink, though he stares at you, unamused, for a moment.

“Fine,” he relents, still looking unconvinced. But when you try to wave him off a second time, and a third, his patience visibly thins. “Alright, that’s it.” He grabs your now empty cup with a sense of purpose, muttering under his breath as he maneuvers through the crowd. You reach out, embarrassed to death that he’d take the trouble to do this.

“Katsuki, you don’t have to—please, it’s okay! Really, it’s fine!”

He gives you a brief, sideways glance, his expression somewhere between exasperation and begrudging affection. “For god’s sake, Cupcake, I’m doin’ it ‘cause I want to.”

The bartender hardly has time to react before Bakugou is right in front of him, holding up the empty cup like it’s some sort of evidence. “Listen up. This microscopic cup you handed out, where the hell d’ya even find one that small?” he demands, raising an eyebrow at the bartender, who looks both puzzled and terrified by Bakugou’s intensity.

The bartender stammers something about portion sizes, but Bakugou cuts him off, pointing to the counter like he’s about to place an order in a war zone. “Whatever you put in here, put it in a real glass this time, yeah? And don’t skimp. What is it, anyway?”

“Uh—it’s, um, a mix of, uh, passion fruit, lemon, and a hint of, uh… elderflower…”

“Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to know.” He watches as they pour the drink, nodding in satisfaction once they fill a glass you can actually hold with more than two fingers. When he finally returns, he looks triumphant, almost like he just completed some crucial, life-or-death mission.

“Here,” he says, handing you the glass with that rare softness in his eyes that he only gets around you.

And as you take the first sip, savoring the full taste this time, you glance up at him, fighting a smile.

“Y’know,” he mutters, clearly aware of his over-the-top reaction, “I ain’t lettin’ you get ripped off on my watch. ‘Specially if it’s somethin’ you like.”

You savor every last drop of the drink, finally taking fuller sips now that it’s in an actual glass. The elderflower and passion fruit mix is refreshing, and it brings a soft smile to your lips every time you taste it. And when you finish the last drop, you look up at Bakugou, feeling a bit embarrassed but grateful.

He’s watching you intently, arms crossed with a proud little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “All done?” he asks, clearly pleased with himself.

You nod, setting the glass down. “Yeah. Thanks, 'Suki,” you murmur, hoping the slight blush on your cheeks isn’t too obvious. “We can go now.”

Bakugou’s face lights up in an almost imperceptible way. He clears his throat, looking around as if anyone might overhear, but the relief is clear in his expression. “’Bout damn time.”

A couple of weeks pass, and life returns to the usual pro hero routine—patrols, training, the occasional event, and repeat. After a long, grueling day of patrol, you return home exhausted and immediately head to the shower, letting the hot water wash away the day’s aches and strains. The warmth is a balm for your sore muscles, and by the time you get out, you feel somewhat revived, if not a little sleepy.

You toss on a cozy set of clothes, ready to finally relax and start prepping dinner. You make your way to the kitchen, but as you open the fridge, you notice something unusual: a piece of paper stuck to one of the shelves. Curious, you pull it out and immediately recognize Bakugou’s handwriting, all sharp lines and bold strokes.

In the middle of the note is a hastily-drawn little doodle of himself, smirking with a thumbs-up, along with the words: “Surprise. You better not ration this either.”

You stare at the note, momentarily confused. What’s he talking about?

Then you glance down, and your eyes widen.

Sitting on the shelf, right next to the vegetables and leftovers, is a large glass pitcher filled to the brim with the juice from the gala—your favorite mix of passion fruit, lemon, and elderflower.

A laugh bubbles up from your throat, and you can’t help but shake your head in wonder. Of course he’d go through the trouble of making an entire pitcher for you. And not only that, but he left a note, reminding you not to hold back or ration it like some precious artifact.

You pour yourself a full glass, taking a long sip, and the familiar taste brings a warm, giddy feeling to your chest. For a moment, you just stand there in your quiet kitchen, holding your glass and staring at Bakugou’s note with a grin that won’t leave your face.

It’s just so… him. Thoughtful in the most roundabout way possible.

You take another sip, glancing at the time. He’ll still be on patrol for a bit, but you already can’t wait to tell him just how much his little surprise means to you.

[millersfinest]

the thing in your chest that beats ³ | e.w

santa barbara!ellie williams & ex-firefly!reader

wc: 5.3k

mini-series: california | oregon | idaho (you’re here) | wyoming

blurb: you put up a good fight with those rattlers, but it wasn’t good enough—all it got you was strung up near a beach where the sun scorched you dry. abruptly, their set-up gets fucked by their own prisoners, saving your life by only a thread. but the wrath that lingered under your skin was immense, and you’re not the only one to experience that phenomenon. when another damaged soul encounters your brittle state; the dreams that put you in a tough position manifest into reality. along with a few extra miscellaneous things…

cw: angry!r, slow-burn romance, proximity trope, both reader and ellie on a path of redemption, afab body parts mentioned, vulgar language, some joel references, inner guilt, use of ‘y/n’ and ‘woman’, ellie has a panic attack, shambler appearance (ew), and for the fun part… SMUT, switch!reader, oral sex, fingering ( :P ), barely any dirty talk because this is a loving experience y’all (and i don’t really know how to write that lmao), ellie might be a little ooc but i just perceive her to be this way idk.

note: to start… if anyone needs anyone to talk to after hearing the results of the election, please don’t be afraid to direct message me. especially my fellow american queer/trans friends. we are truly in some tough times right now. i hope this chapter can serve as some sort of distraction for what’s going on. as always, enjoyy!

Idaho

Welcome to the Gem State, the sign read when you passed the state line into Idaho a few days ago. The place you’ve been dreaming of was getting closer and closer—that feeling of relief was near! You could feel it bubbling in your stomach, enriching the nerves that ran under your sore muscles.

Since Oregon, you and Ellie had barely shared a full conversation. It’s only been small directions, or helpful interjections with infected, or even, guidance in getting around potentially dangerous people.

This time around, you harbored most of the frustration and anger. Wrath wrapped itself around you once more, forbidding you from wondering what her inquiries meant—what bringing up Honey meant. Ellie tried to service you the best she could, trying to make up physically for what she couldn’t vocally. Resuming her position as your caretaker, but that only made things worse.

The wounds and weaknesses of Santa Barbara were healing but were being replaced by new ones. Surface cuts, sprained ankles, and scorned hearts. Ellie could ask you nothing without the pitch of your voice raising an octave. It wasn’t anything like the character she knew you to be.

Or the months you spent together thus far meant nothing—she never actually knew anything about you.

The annotated map relied in your hands as you approached an administrative building. You had spent the previous night planning the route, instead of engaging in small talk with your partner. You were, somehow, still trying to prove to Ellie that you didn’t need her. Indulging in an individual competition of: who does it better? It was a drastic understatement to call you a competitive person. And her incessant need to make up for the misfortune of her curiosity wasn’t helping.

“Here’s the firm…” You mutter, immediately trotting to the front doors. American Falls Firm. Pulling at the handle, you realized it was locked and barricaded from the inside. Huffing, you folded up the map, sliding it into your backpack. “Looks like we gotta find another way in.” Dusting your hands, you began to survey different sides of the building. She followed behind you, keeping an eye out for lingering infected and any other inhibitors.

Humming to yourself, you squinted at the broken window above you. Turning your head, you peered at the auburn-haired woman who’s back faced you. Your Beretta resided in her hands as she kept a keen eye on the surroundings. Ellie didn’t mind doing that job because it kept her mind from wanting appeal to you. It kept her from wanting to beg for your forgiveness. After all, this was just her doing you a debtless favor. She shouldn’t have been so attached to you anyway.

“Hey,” You waved her over. “I need a boost.”

She met your eyes, nodding with firm lips. “Sure,” Slinging the shotgun around her body, she bent at the knee and cupped her hands low. Placing your hands on her shoulders, your irises danced over her features, briefly. Dirt attempted to blend in with the freckles over her nose, but they didn’t stand a chance—you knew the difference. Her olive eyes did well to avoid yours, feigning a look of impatience. “Up you go.”

Ellie boosted you up toward the window with all the strength she could muster. Fingers catching onto the edge of where the floor and window meant. Using your own strength, you pulled yourself into a room illuminated by daylight. Groaning under your breath from the stretch of your muscles. Crouching, you leaned back down to pull Ellie up.

Her hand attached to your forearm, crawling up the stone wall and into the room. Ellie hissed as she crawled inside, holding her wrapped ankle to alleviate some of the pain. Standing to your feet, you looked down at her with flickers of concern in your eyes.

The other day, she tripped over a thick fallen tree branch from the morning dew—spraining or straining her ankle, you couldn’t remember the difference. All you knew was that she hurt her ankle badly, but it wasn’t broken. Ellie wrapped it herself with athletic tape from your bag; with her back facing you in embarrassment.

“Can we keep going, or do you need a second?” You inquire, avoiding your eyes, dismissively. Like you didn’t care what her response was, even though you did.

“I’m fine…” She stood to her feet, wringing out her foot.

“You sure?”

“I said I’m fine…” Ellie grumbled, walking off to another side of the room.

It was a barren office that the both of you meandered through. Picking at the miscellaneous items that could serve you in any way. There were two desks that occupied the office; decorated with familial picture frames and old-world gadgets that made no sense to either of you.

Slowly, pushing open the door, the entire building appeared silent. Light peaking through broken and foggy windows, greenery growing inside and through the deteriorating structure. You found it rather beautiful that the earth was taking back what was hers—negating the infected, of course. Your fingers traced the vines that grew through the cement. Those plants were living despite opposition; everyone could learn something from that.

Breaking through barriers and walls, despite their resilience.

You glanced at the auburn-haired woman, keeping a safe distance from you, scoping out the place. “What’s the route out of here?” She asks, dragging her sneakers against the cracked floors. There was a slight limp to her gait, but made sure to walk as normal as possible when your eyes were set on her.

Blowing air from your lips, you respond. “The ground floor. There should be a stairwell around here somewhere.”

Usually, lower floors of abandoned buildings worried you. Infected find themselves huddled in their own corrosion. In darker, moister, places they intensified. Some merging to the walls, other growing boils of acid.

When your eyes set on a metal door that led to the floor you needed to get to, your heart pumped blood into your veins. Pounding in your ears as an alarm. Through the window, white flurries fluttered by, confirming the one thing you were concerned about: over-developed infected.

“Mask up. Spores.” You swing your bag around to dig for your mask.

Ellie did the same, with slight hesitation. “Is the this only way through?”

You nodded, tightening the strap around your head. “Yeah, if we still wanna knock off some time.” Opening the door, you armed yourself with the pistol that sat snuggly in the waistband of your jeans. The walls were adorned in the crusty corrosion of the sick, bubbling in corners. You frowned under your mask, stepping slowly down the stairs. Ellie following behind you with the same caution, shotgun drawn.

Errk!

Both of you stopped moving in the stairwell at the sound of a clicker. You swear under your breath, glancing at your partner. “We’ve got company.” She muttered, nodding at you to go forward.

Moments like this was when you relied on her the most, but you’d never admit it. It was nice to not have to endure circumventing infected alone. Ellie was your backup, and you were hers. Even if you were still upset with her—underground that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was staying alive.

Navigating through the dark, with your lights flickered on, the both of you managed to stealthily kill the clickers wandering around. But when a pair of crusted hands leaped from the wall, pushing you onto the ground… Another beast was alerted.

With the sound of Ellie’s shotgun, a loud monstrous grumble rumbled from down the hall. You pushed the stalker to the side, scrambling to your feet. “Ellie, how many bullets do we have?” You asked her, adrenaline pumping through your body.

She checked the chamber, cursing. “Fuck! Three rounds.”

Picking up the pistol from the ground, you checked the magazine. Only a few bullets. The shambler began to stomp, approaching the two of you, increasing into a run. “We gotta go!” You grab her hand, tugging her a tight hole in the wall; tall enough for you to slip through.

Running into the room, you realized there wasn’t an exit. There was only a door, but it led back out into the hallway. The quick call you made to evade the boiling beast, was a mistake. Before you could even regret the decision, the shambler bursted through the wall.

Without command, Ellie began firing the shotgun. First bullet. Second bullet. Third bullet—she was out. It roared, releasing puffs of acid. You both dodged by the skin of your teeth, running around the room like frightened mice. Now, it was your turn to unleash pointless blows to the creature. Emptying the rest of your magazine into the bulbous creature did nothing but anger it. Somehow, it found a way to creep up behind you and Ellie, taking her by the throat.

“Ellie!” You exclaimed, voice trembling in horror. Her hands scratched at its arms, pounding to be set free.

A pipe leaned out of a wall as an escape route, a message from God—fate, prying at you. Using the strength of a scared shitless person, you yanked the pipe free, falling back onto your butt. Quickly, you stood up and began hacking at the thing. Sounds of effort and defensive fear leaving your lips. Dropping Ellie onto the ground, he turned to you, roaring. However, your hacking at his body didn’t stop until he was on his knees. Gurgles left his corroded and bubbled mouth, but you used it as bait to make your final blow.

Heaving over its corpse, your back hunched, the pipe slipping from your sweaty grip. She coughed, reminding you of her presence, slumped against the wall. Her breath began to grow heavy, hand on her chest.

“Oh, my God— Ellie!” You crouched beside her, unsure where to place your shaking hands. She attempted to crack a smile, to pretend she was fine, but she wasn’t. The imperative organ in her chest beat faster than it should have, knocking the wind out of her. She couldn’t breathe—at least it felt like she couldn’t.

Ellie was panicking.

“Hey,” You tried, deepening your eyebrows, sliding your hands from her shoulders to her neck, to her trembling jaw. “Ellie,” Her hand shot up to grip your wrist with vigor, looking into your eyes, intensely. “Ellie, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Your free hand pushed strangling hair from sticking to the plastic of her mask.

The grip on your wrist moved to the entrapment on her face. She began to claw at it, whining. “No…” You attempt to stop her fast, strong movements, but she shoved you away. “Ellie— no! What the fuck are you doing?!”

She peeled the mask off her face, taking the deepest breaths you’ve ever seen. Leaning back, your eyes watered, watching her gasp for toxic air. Ellie pushed the strands of her hair off her face, leaning her head against the cement of the wall. Her heart was settling, but then she looked to you. Olive eyes meeting your teary ones. “What the- what d-did you just do?” You stammered. “Ellie…”

You enunciated her name with such weariness that it made her feel guilty. Still, getting herself together from her panic attack, she felt the need to console you. But she didn’t have the energy.

Breathing heavily under your mask, you watch as nothing happened to her. She doesn’t convulse, choking on the toxic elements in the air. There was nothing different about her. Absolutely nothing.

“I can…” Ellie breathed. “I can explain later. Let’s just get outta here first, all right?”

Having no choice but to believe her, you stood to your feet. Reaching down for her hand. When you pulled her up, her ankle gave out on her. “Shit,” Ellie cursed, furrowing her eyebrows. “The harder they fall, huh?” She dryly chuckled.

You frowned, wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

Unamused, you found a way out of the ground floor. Unmasking at the first sight of daylight. You didn’t have to travel far with Ellie’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. The only place that was able to receive your weak bodies was a little bookstore around the corner.

It was clustered inside. Book aisles placed close together, where only a single body could shimmy through. A pair of metal stairs spiraled up the back of the store, leading to another floor of books. Dropping all of your things, including Ellie’s arm, you stalked up those rusty steps with hot tears welling into your eyes.

Ellie leaned against a bookshelf, pressing her lips into a line. Watching every harsh step you took, ascending up the stairs. Her own eyes began to fill with tears, glancing down at her shaking hands. Before they could fall, she harshly wiped her face and decided to busy herself. It wasn’t a bad time to take inventory.

Upstairs, you found yourself huddled in a corner. Hot tears streaming down your cheeks, weeping as low as you could. The tears falling down your face was a release of fright. You realized something on that ground floor that you wish you hadn’t. That freckled stranger you had come upon, or who had come upon you, in Santa Barbara was becoming a meaningful person in your life. Unbeknownst to you! Ellie had snuck up on you like a rodent in disguise.

That distant figure that once hovered in dim lighting who you didn’t trust has become so much more. You trusted her with your fucking life. And it only took a few months on the road.

Having barely recovered from the threat of that shambler, she snatched her mask off like it was nothing. In those few second, your heart beat so loud it stalled time. You thought she was going to die right in front of you, willingly.

It took you back to a moment in your past—the death of your mother. Before you reached Catalina Island, your mother sacrificed herself to ensure that you made it there. She gave you her mask to take the spores head-on. Promising that she’d hold her breath; at fifteen, you were silly to believe her.

Just then, Ellie’s gasps proved your immediate worries and fears wrong. She wasn’t going to die in front of you like your mother did. The viral spores on that floor didn’t kill her. Making you wonder: who the fuck were you traveling with?

Wiping your face, messily, you wander back down the rusted steps of the bookstore. You spot her with both of your bags opened, going through the supplies you had. Counting under her breath. When her strained eyes caught yours, she ceased all movement.

“You know,” She began, looking at the hand that was missing her pinky and ring finger, massaging her palm. “I think, that was the most you’ve ever said my name.”

You frowned, walking through the aisles, cheeks stained with tears. “What the fuck was that back there?” The sound of your voice was weak and frail.

“A panic attack…”

“I’m talking about the mask, Ellie. You breathed spores…?”

She licked her lips, averting her olive eyes. “I’m immune…”

A beat passed between the two of you, roping around your still bodies.

Ellie watched how your lips quivered, like you wanted to cry. The redness in your eyes made her frown. “I just— in the moment… I couldn’t breathe. I needed to take it off—“

“How do you know?” You abruptly ask. “How do you know that you’re immune? What if it just… I don’t know… Takes longer to develop in your system?”

“y/n…” She remorsefully spoke. “I was bitten when I was fourteen.” Ellie rolls up the sleeve of her jacket, pushing her tattooed arm toward you.

Pressing your lips together, you walk forward, taking her arm in your hands. Her forearm was covered in evergreen ink. Taking your hand, she guided your fingers over the eruptions in her skin. Abrasions. Hidden beneath the adoration of the tattoo. You never noticed this before. “I had a lot of time to know if this was real…” Ellie muttered, peering at you. Insecurity leaking from her pores.

You met her eyes, opening and closing your lips, trying figure out the words you wanted to say. “Who are you?” You examined the features you’ve come to know. “And don’t walk away this time— you have no choice but to tell me.” A chortle falls from your lips, causing her stiffness in her shoulders to loosen.

And so, Ellie told you as much as she could. She told you about how she got bitten. She told you about Riley. She told you about Joel and Tommy—about the fireflies—and about Joel, again. She told you about Dina and Jesse. And then, she told you about Abby. The familiarity of her name caused you to perk up. You knew of her from the resort; it was her and a little boy. However, the version she told you about aligned nothing with the version that you knew of.

“I went to Santa Barbara because I wanted to put an end to my suffering and Tommy’s— I wanted to kill her.” Ellie confessed, leaning her head back against the books pushed into the shelves. The two of you sat opposite of each other in a book aisle, knees grazing every so often. “I thought that would fix everything… But, when I saw her on that pillar…” She shook her head, running her hand through her hair. “For a second, I wasn’t going to do it. She led me to that beach, holding that kid, and I was gonna leave.”

Ellie blinked, remembering that empty feeling she felt on that day. Guilt crawling through her for something that was never in her control. You watched her speak, intently, with deepened eyebrows. “Then, I remembered. I remembered what she did— what she took from me, and I couldn’t let her go. I threatened that little boy, and I made her fight me. She didn’t want to, but I made her.”

“Did you kill her…?” You asked, slowly.

She chortled, wiping her teary eyes. “No. She took my fucking fingers, and I let her go.” The laugh she released was dry, and without humor. “It was like… Everything that I’ve done, leading up to that day, was all for nothing. All the people that I hurt— that I killed just to get to her… It was all for nothing.” Her voice cracked, tears rolling down her cheeks. Ellie couldn’t stop them this time.

You reached for her knee, caressing your thumb over the fabric of her jeans. She peered up at you, through her thick, wet eyelashes with a sort of surprise. Ellie didn’t think you’d stick around after hearing about her truth. You, a victim of the rattlers, empathizing with a murderer.

Before that, though, you were a firefly. You more than just a victim.

“How could I ever think of you as a bad person after what I’ve done?” She pressed her plump lips into a line, shaking her head. “That wasn’t what I meant at all… I was just trying to figure you out. I worded it all wrong— I’m sorry.” Ellie apologized with such frailty, you had no choice but to accept.

“Don’t be sorry, Ellie…”

“I’m beginning to realize I’m not really good with people.”

You squeeze her knee. “That’s not true. I think we get along great.” You shrug, attempting to lighten up the mood. Her lips curled at the corners, reaching for the hand on her knee, placing hers over yours. A silence bounced between you—eyes boring into each other’s, looking through each other. “I also think… You did what you thought was best…” You voiced, nodding affirmatively. “I probably would’ve, somehow, done worse.”

She scoffed, drawing circles on the back of your hand, absentmindedly. “Worse? You couldn’t have done worse.”

“You’d be surprised.” You lifted your eyebrows. “Not to beat a dead horse or anything, but as a firefly… When you’re told to do something, you do it.” Shrugging, you remove your hand from hers, crossing your arms. “I’m not a saint, Ellie. I’ve done loads of shit that I’m not proud of.” You looked down at your knees, frowning. “If some girl killed someone I cared about right in front of me… It would have been the last thing she ever did. Shit, I’ve killed people for less.”

You paused, eyebrows twitching. The image of a guardian angel came into your mind—Honey. “It should’ve been me in that house… In Santa Barbara.” Squeezing your eyes shut, tears began to fall down your cheeks once more. Angry, mourning tears. “It’s like… The Lord gave me second chance to do better— or was it fate? I don’t fucking know…”

Ellie blinked, having a severe déjà vu moment. Somehow the words spoken in her past, have managed to resurface. If somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment, I would do it all over again. Spoken by your pretty mouth, instead of someone else’s. “I’d probably be just like Honey if it weren’t for you— dead. And I still don’t know what makes me worth saving, but I’m grateful. I’m grateful for you.” You sniffed, lips quivering while looking at the auburn-haired woman.

She swallowed, moving from her spot across from you to sit beside you. If only she had the courage to say those words to Joel. If only her resentment didn’t run so deep—perhaps, her guilt for his death wouldn’t be so strong. “Everything about you is worth saving… You’re like a lucky charm.”

You leaned your head back against the books, looking at her. “A lucky charm, huh?”

“Hell yeah! I mean, you totally whooped that shambler’s ass. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Hitting her arm, you giggle, keeping your eyes on the bookshelf in front of you. “Seriously, y/n…” Her humored tone faded as she trained her eyes on the side of your face, urging you to just look at her. To meet her eyes as passionately as she wanted to meet yours. It could’ve been the vulnerability that pulsed around the room, but she needed to see you. Her body ached for touch—perhaps, your touch. Ellie needed consolation for her confession.

Finally, your eyes drift toward hers. Not realizing how close her body was to yours. Shoulders, arms, hips, knees touching as if you were conjoined by the hip. Her eyes were prettier close up. They were greener than the evergreen that grew up desolate buildings. The freckles on her damaged skin could be connected like constellations—how come you never noticed this before? You wanted to trace the scar over her top lip and the one in her eyebrow with your finger, not just with your eyes.

The only thing that could be heard was your uneven, nervous breaths. Ellie moved her face closer to yours, just enough to tease, to ask for your permission without using her words. Her olive eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes. Weakly, you nodded, chewing on the corner of your bottom lip.

Her hands settled on your face, pulling you to hers. Meeting her lips with your lips, softly and patiently. Placing your hands on her wrists, you pull away, analyzing her features. Full lips were parted, wantonly. Pushing forward, you resumed the kiss with more intensity.

Whining against her lips, you got onto your knees, kicking your leg over her legs. Settling on her lap, her hands moved to your hips, kneading them. Her lips beginning to trail down your jaw; they were wet and hot kisses, causing your hips to roll on their own. Pleasured sighs fled from your swollen parted lips, holding onto her shoulders. “Ellie— Ellie, are you sure about this?” You question, with your eyes fluttered shut.

Against the sensitive skin of your neck, she spoke. “Beyond sure…” She muttered, littering your neck with love bites. Then, she pauses, pulling back to look up at you. Her hands still on your hips, pulling them to a stop to get your attention. “Are you sure about this?” Her pupils were blown out, adoringly.

You massaged her tense shoulders, licking your lips. The sight of her made your skin warm and tingly. “I’m fucking sure.” You smiled, playing with ends of her auburn strands. Leaning down, you pressed your lips against hers again, with fervor.

The both of you needed this—human connection. Even if it was short-lived, or temporary.

Ellie pushed at the flannel over your arms, tossing it to the side. Then, it was your knit shirt. She rolled it up from your abdomen, you lift your arms so she could remove it. Lastly, was your sports bra. She pulled it over your head, eyes marveling at the sight before her. Her calloused hands ran down the bare sides of your back, lips trailing down your sternum.

Running your hands over her hair, she latched her lips around one of your nipples. Sucking and nibbling at the sensitive nerves. A moan escapes your throat, arching your back into her. Your hips buck on top of her lap, begging for her touch elsewhere. “My lucky charm…” She mutters against your skin, kneading your other breast.

You end up with your back on the hard floor of the bookstore. Your hands pulling off her clothes like your life depended on it. She pulled your pants off, leaving you both only in your underwear.

Ellie kissed you, again, pressing her chest against yours. Her knee slotted between your legs, pushing her thigh against your clothed core. You could feel her grinding against your propped up leg, moaning into your mouth. Calloused hand gripping the back of your thigh. Sloppily, your lips trail to the side of her face, airy moans releasing beside her ear. “Ellie, please, touch me…” Wantonly, you pleaded, clenching the roots of her hair.

With her hot lips against your jaw, nibbling at your ear, she obliged. Drifting her hand down the center of your bodies, rubbing you over your underwear. Propping herself up on her other arm, she peered down at you. A pout resting on your wet lips, narrowing your eyes at her. One-handed, she slides your underwear to the side, running her middle finger up your center. Spreading your slick over that sensitive bud awaiting her focus. Ellie chews on her bottom lip, watching you shudder under her touch. “Right there?”

You respond with the tremble of your thighs and the heaving of your chest. She cracked a charming smile, eyes hazing at the sight of you.

Slipping two fingers into your cunt, she moans with you, curling her fingers slowly. Your hands roam her toned stomach, squeezing at her breasts, but you were losing focus. “S— So fucking good— ah!” Pulling her fingers out of you, she lowered herself. Kissing the scars and bruises that littered your abdomen. Her movements briefly confused you, until you felt her mouth on the inner parts of your thighs.

She pulled your underwear down your legs, tossing them aside. Then, she was on you, mouth hot over your cunt. Suckling on your clit, thrusting her tongue into you—eating you like she was starving. Your mouth fell ajar, grasping at her hair for something to hold onto. “Fuck, Ellie!” You whine, bucking your hips toward her face.

Her olive irises looked up at you between your legs, glimmering with lust. Arching your back, feeling that tightness coiling under your muscles, a lewd sound comes from your throat. Something between a moan and a yelp.

Sooner than later, your release comes crashing over you. Like a breath of fresh air. Legs clamping around her head, pushing her closer to your heat. Her lips making out with your pussy, bringing you down from your high. “Oh, my God…” You mutter, massaging her scalp with your fingers.

She crawls up your body like a lustrous lioness, letting your taste yourself on her lips. Your hands gripped at the fat of her ass, biting her bottom lip with your teeth. Ellie gasped, angling your face with her hand, groaning against your lips.

Sliding your index finger under the hem of her boxer-short underwear, you yank them down. “Damn…” Ellie mutters, kicking off her underwear the rest of the way. “You’re quick.” She chuckles, as you flip her onto her back. Running your lips down her neck, biting her skin.

“I want you… Can you blame me?”

You gripped at her hips, but when she winced you stopped. Peering down at her hip bone, a stitching remained there. Red and a little irritated. “It’s fine. Keep goin’, please.” Ellie tried, reaching for your hand.

Lowering your body, you kissed around the irritated wound, gently. Ellie watched you, chewing on her lip. Holding onto her hand, you kissed lower and lower. Through the hairs over her mound, the inner parts of her thigh—lightly over her cunt. She twitched, bashfully trying to shut her legs. But your hands braced her thighs.

Breathing her in, you licked a line up her center, making eye contact with her. An airy sound left her parted lips, free hand tweaking her nipples. “Yeah… Yeah…” She chanted, rocking herself against your face. You lick at her clit before sucking it into your mouth, her hips jolting at the feeling. Fluttering your eyes shut, you spend time on her sensitive bud, messily. Your non-dominant hand still holding onto Ellie’s, her grip tightening every second.

Taking your other hand, you insert your middle and ring finger into her core. Looking up at her reaction, while you made love to her clit. “Fuck, yes!” She enunciated her words lustily, drawing them out. Popping her bud from your lips, you begin to curl your fingers. Her wanton moans bouncing off the bookshelves around you.

“You’re so pretty like this.” You whisper, mainly to yourself, as you gaze at her in awe. Ellie was always so rough around the edges, but under you she was different. Her scarred body shook under you, in pleasure. She was in her element.

She moaned your name, riding your fingers. The muscles in her abdomen clenching, the grip on your hand getting harder. Taking that as your cue, you began to make out with her pussy. Only bringing her closer and closer to that breaking coil.

When the sparks in her stomach bursted into flames, a string of curse words fell from her lips. Her back arching off the hardwood floor, fingers pinching her tits. Her slick was all over your mouth, as you crawled back up her body.

Hungrily, she found your lips. Pushing your bare bodies together, you lazily made out—winding yourselves down.

Orange hues of the sun setting peaked through the windows, and the empty parts of the shelves. A burnt orange cast, glazing over your bodies like a blanket. Your legs intertwined, arms draped over shoulders, wrapped around waists; you were comfortable like this. Ellie was comfortable like this.

Parting your lips, she peppered small kisses along your jaw, before laying her head on your chest. “There’s a couch upstairs…” You breathe, playing in her hair.

“You say this now…?” She looked up at you, fingers rubbing circles on your bare hips.

A chuckle fell from your lips, your thumb caressing her flushed cheeks. “Heat of the moment!”

She sucked her teeth, nuzzling her head into your neck. “Whatever, you filthy woman.”

“Hey! You’re the one who took my clothes off.”

“You let me take your clothes off.” She nibbled at the skin of your throat, squeezing the fat of your hip.

You pressed your lips together, amused, running your fingers down her freckled back. “We could go up to the couch now.” You offered.

Ellie shook her head, hooking her leg around yours to pull herself closer to you. “No, just wanna lay here for a while…”

And you did just that. Laid with each other until your backs ached enough to move to the couch upstairs. Only to resume the position on the itchy cushions until the sun came back around to drag you both back onto the road.

[escapedheart]

We also have to forgive and help people. A few public fuckup shouldn’t force you into a life of deep, never ending hatred from others forever. When someone says “hey I’ve realized I fucked up, but I don’t know how or why, can I have help figuring it out?” We have to be willing to offer a listening ear and a helping hand.

Therapy speak and the default “I don’t owe you the emotional labor” response have really fucked our ability to be a properly supportive community to those around us. And I get it, we have to hold space for ourselves, and take care of our own health. There has to be a middle ground between burnout from helping everyone and never helping anyone.

We can’t expect people to just know things, everyone starts somewhere. And yes google is free, but google also sucks and if they’ve been sucked down the rightwing pipeline, their google results may be biased in ways we haven’t considered towards even more rightwing bullshit. (And that’s without even touching the AI and spam results issue! We can’t pretend like the internet is the super useful tool of our youth anymore!)

I dunno. I’m rambling. Maybe I’m wrong. But at least in my experience, being the one who answers questions and helps people learn is why they stick around. The number of people who have told me in my life “thank you for actually answering, nobody ever has before and I’ve asked a lot” is shocking. And I’m lucky to have found those people in a time when they were still early enough in their journey that they were willing to ask, because those people are now some of the best most supportive people I know.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[stardustedreams222]

Communicating with Your Ancestors

Something they’ve been trying to tell you but you’ve been ignoring

Samhain Edition

This is a collective reading, meaning there won’t be as much detail as if it’s a personal reading, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t 🩷 If you’d like a personal reading on this, you can purchase a reading on my Ko-Fi Shop {You’ll need to be a Moon Member for $5 a month in order to purchase it 🩷}

Samhain is the perfect time to reach out and hear what your Ancestors have to say, with the veil between worlds being so thin. Today, the dead walk among the living. I wanted to do a Pick a Pile for everyone who wasn’t able to do the divination themselves during Samhain this year.

Close your eyes, Take a deep breath, and Pick the Pile{s} you’re most drawn to, to hear what your Ancestors want to tell you.

Pick a Pile

1 ➸ 2 ➸ 3

Content Warning: These are hard-to-hear messages and your Ancestors aren't holding anything back in this! Expect swear words and brief mentions of their time in slavery.

{I don’t know how but every pile has Ancestors from the East coast or South in the USA 🙈 and I feel a bit rude cos I didn’t expect this reading to just be for Americans but I think that’s just who wanted to come out in this reading. However they do wanna clarify that even though these are the places they’re showing me, there are people in this collective who are outside of the USA! But these are just the states with most relevance to the collective piles 🩷}

𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂

𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑂𝑛𝑒 ~ 𝐶𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑒

Your Cards: Empress. Page of Wands, King of Wands, Ace of Swords, The Magician, 4 of Cups, 10 of Wands, Lovers Reversed, Ace of Wands, Death

About Your Ancestors:

They have a southern U.S. accent, {Louisiana, Georgia, Alabama} and the one Ancestor that’s most prominent in this reading is of Creole ancestry, others are Black and Hispanic and a small few, {one or two} are white.

Your Message:

You have something inside you that you’ve been wanting to create and some of you’ve been putting in the work to create it but it’s still in the planning process.

This is an opportunity of some kind either an entrepreneurship or a non profit organization. It’s something so close to your heart that you feel so deeply connected to it.

It’s your baby, you can see it being your life’s work, but there’s been some issues in this. Things feeling too complicated, like there's too much on your plate to fully enjoy this. Lately, you’ve been feeling like “Is this even worth all this?” while you work on it.

You've been dragging your feet, not wanting to get out of bed. Feeling overwhelmed, burnt out, depressed or just indifferent to the work now. But there will be a breakthrough soon, where you’ll feel free again. Happy and excited again for this.

This breakthrough is something that will remind you why you started this in the first place. It’ll ignite that spark in your heart again. And it’ll wash away all the burdened, overwhelming apathy and hatred that’s been growing towards this. It’ll be the push and the change in your mindset that’s needed in order to help you fully create this in all its glory. 

The Channeled message as I heard it:

“It’s worth it. I know you can’t see that right now and you havent been able to for a while now, but child it’s worth it. Change is coming, breakthrough is coming. Don’t throw in the towel just yet. Give it some more time.

In the meantime, while you wait for the breakthrough, the ‘Aha’ moment, I want you to rest, relax. Act like you’re 7 months pregnant and your back is aching, your feet are swollen and your belly is rumbling.

Get a massage, take a bubble bath, put up your feet, take that nap, eat more and fuel up. Get your mind off this as much as you can.

You clock out of work, stop thinking about it. You’re home— act like it.

In this rest and relaxation you’ll come back to yourself. And at the end of it you’ll remember why you started this in the first place. You started to help people. You started to help yourself. So why are you forgetting to take care of yourself right now?

Because you don’t think you deserve it?

Bullshit!

The very reason for why you’re doing this makes you worthy of taking a break every now and again and I’m not talking a 5 minute break or a ‘30 second alarm on your phone’ break where you reward yourself with chocolate and a happy jazz hands dance and then get back to work. I’m talking about a real vacation kind of break.

A weekend, a week, a couple of weeks. You deserve time off to rest your body and especially your mind.

Now, I know this sounds harsh, I don’t mean it to come across that way, Child, I just want what's best for you, and working yourself into the ground like you are now, is not that. So do us all a favor and take a break. Drink your water too and start listening to us. We know you can hear us, it just pisses us off more when you act like you don’t or can’t. Yeah, we see you… and we know you see us too."

That was all they wanted to say... They do love you they just really feel like calling you out right now 🙈 So I’ma ask them for a nice message now cos I don’t like ending readings on a sour note 🩷

New Cards: World Reversed, 7 of Pentacles, High Priestess, Hermit, Sun, 3 of Pentacles, Empress

They didn’t wanna give this lol, and it took a while for any cards to come out.

Their Comforting Message:

“Fiine… Here. We know life hasn’t been easy.

The world wasn’t handed to you as a child, you’ve had to work for everything you have including the respect of other people. You know this, I don’t know why you need me to say it. But you’re also highly aware of what’s going on beneath the surface.

Call it the years of isolation, dark night of the souls, all the shadow work you’ve been doing. You’ve been doing good. Working up to your happiness and that’s where you are now: Working to make this dream come true.

We are proud of you… we’d just like some recognition for all we’ve done to help you through this shit hole too. A cookie would be nice, you know. Or some water at the least. All I feel is like we’re yapping up a storm, drying our mouths, and all you hear is the charlie brown teachers spewing nonsense ‘cause you don’t wanna hear us!

{I asked them to redirect and actually give comforting messages lol}

We’re proud of you for all the hard work you’ve put in. Digging up the weeds and breaking the foundations of concrete just to plant some pretty flowers isn’t easy to do. God knows I know that… You’re intuitive, child, you know you don’t have to keep doubting whether you heard correctly or not… or saw correctly. We admire how far you’ve developed your clairs and psychic abilities in such a short life.

It didn’t come easy and we know that.

We saw all the work you put in, we saw the isolation periods and we’re proud of you for sticking with it and getting through it. I’m sorry we’re a bit bitter… but a cookie or an offering would go a long way I’m just sayin’… {They held their hands up in innocence, lol}

Know that our hands are on this project of yours too, we’re looking out for it, just like we’re looking out for you too. But we are serious about you needing to rest.

Even we needed to rest when we were out in the fields. {She means when they were enslaved, working the fields. Others are talking about being immigrants and working on farms with horrible pay "slaving away."}

So you gotta rest too, even moreso because what you’re making is gonna help a lot of people, which means this is just the beginning of the hard work.

You gotta find the balance between working hard and fully shutting off your work brain. You gotta find that balance now, before things take off and you end up dropping the ball down the road when you get burnt out from running around like a headless chicken.

We love you, We’re proud of you. Now get some rest, there’s nothing you have to prove by working so damn hard.”

All right 🩷 Well, you definitely have some vocal and stubborn ancestors 😂 They seem sweet though, even through the harsh message and cussing, I could tell they really love you, they just feel ignored and neglected.

Some of them also really want a cookie!

I heard “A raisin cookie tell ‘em I want raisin!” 😂🙈 Yall have some really adorable ancestors! Overall, their message is to take a break.

You’ve deserved a nice long break for a while now. I know it can be tough setting your work down for a day or two… or even 15 minutes. I struggle with the same thing but rest is essential. Rest is necessary. And your ancestors see it as beneficial for you and your business / project.

I think if it’s really hard to let go of your “work mode” maybe do it in increments. It doesn't have to be a hard clean break from today to tomorrow where you take two weeks off. You can start small, take an hour off. Turn your phone on dnd, grab a face mask, hot tea {or hot cocoa with the colder months here now!} just do what you can with what you have right now.

Try to see it as a meditative practice, as time goes by it’ll get easier to add more time to your breaks 🩷

Also… they’re really adamant about that cookie 🙈 Maybe look into doing some homemade cookie recipes, taking the time to make them could count as your break from work 🩷 {And they really like the idea of a homemade offering.}

That's all for this pile, thank you for sticking around and hearing your ancestors out! They really appreciate you wanting to hear them out right now 🩷🫂

If you’d like a personal reading on this, to elaborate or ask them more questions, you can purchase a reading on my Ko-Fi Shop {You’ll need to be a Moon Member for $5 a month in order to purchase it 🩷 The reading itself is One Call Away for $8 or Family Meeting for $15}

Happy Samhain! 🎃

𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂

𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑇𝑤𝑜 ~ 𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘

Pile two is interesting because two sets of messages and Ancestors came out with the same cards 🙈 While they’re both essentially the same message they have enough of a nuance to them that I wanted to split them into groups to fully allow each set of Ancestors to be heard. So Pile 2 you’ve been split into Group A and Group B

please pick an emoji for your reading 🩷

🍯 Group A 🍯 🐝 Group B 🐝

Thank you 🩷 Please proceed accordingly 🥰

🍯 Group A 🍯

Your Cards: 4 of Swords, King of Pentacles Reversed, Page of Swords, Knight of Wands, 6 of Pentacles

About Your Ancestors:

They were really eager to talk. Their ethnicities are kinda hazy, I think this might be because it’s a collective reading and yall don’t share the same ancestry as the other members in this pile. Some are from New Jersey, may have moved to or from New York. Italian is prominent, but so is German.

Then some are venturing into Connecticut, Vermont, Maryland, Illinois, and Virginia. Michigan too but that's a small few.

Some of you are POC, Black and Asian being the most common after Italians and Germans. Some of you are really proud {as you should be 🩷} to have made it this far in an unfair world, not only for the discrimination against you but also because some of you have grown up on stories of what it was like in slavery. And a super small amount of you are born from a Freed Slave in the 1840's-1860’s who had a really rough time. I think they moved from the southern states to New York, and that’s where you grew up but now that you’re well established you moved down to the state they’re from in a way to prove your worth to everyone there. They’re really proud of you for that 🩷🫂 as am I ‘cause I don’t think I’d have the courage to do that especially with the Election coming up 🙈 

Your Message:

You’ve been searching for happiness when it comes to your wealth. You’re actually really wealthy this could be from your hard work or things have just gone really easy for you or a mix of both. For most of you, this is your hard work. 

Even though you’re rich and you can buy things that make you really happy you haven’t felt fulfilled. So you keep buying more and more in hopes it’ll satisfy that feeling, and it does for a little while but then that feeling fades again.

Your Ancestors are saying you have to start letting down your walls. You’ve been guarding your wealth as it grew {which is really wise!} but now that it’s fully grown and sustainable, you need to start leaving behind that mindset that this is only *your* money to spend. It’s not just yours, because your ancestors helped you reach this height of your wealth, they’ve been cultivating it too and the reason why is because they want to soften your heart towards the less fortunate. I know this is really hard for you to hear but you should look for places— credible organizations, shelters, charities— to donate to. Your ancestors are saying once you do you’ll find that satisfaction you’ve been looking for with your wealth.

However, there’s more. You should really do your research, go in person, and talk to the community and organization leaders to really understand their story and the cause you’re donating to before you donate because in this meet and greet you’ll actually learn the lesson your ancestors want you to.

Otherwise, you’ll just be giving money to different organizations still feeling unfulfilled and still searching for happiness and purpose.

Your Channeled Message:

“Let me- Lemme speak first! I can speak for all of us when I say: We know the hard work that went into you getting your bank account where it is now. It was hard work we won’t diminish that! But you gotta stop thinking that everyone everywhere can get where you are now by just putting in the hours and hard work. Some people can, but others just really can’t and they need a helping hand. And I know you wanna roll your eyes and huff but you didn’t do this alone either.

We all helped you. You put in the hard work, but we supplied the opportunities, sprinkling the good luck— {another ancestor interrupted} Dumped! We Dumped the good luck!! Don’t *sugarcoat* it.— That money isn’t just yours and I know, I know you hate this but you know deep down it’s true.

That’s why you’re not happy because you’re *meant* to be sharing that money with people. Spreading the joy and the serenity that that money can bring. We blessed you so you could bless others. But this will only work if you do this out of compassion, being truly moved by the causes you’re giving to. So you gotta go out there get your hands dirty and look into the organizations yourself, don’t get someone else to do it for you ‘cause that won’t work for you.

You’ll still be bitter and feeling lonely in that big house {They showed a mansion with a stone driveway and a cute cultivated garden with columnar shrubs, square bushes and a sculpted bush} with that fancy car {They showed a Porsche and a BMW and they said Lincoln too} because you need human connections and a real purpose to back yourself up in your happiness.

We know how you feel about sharing your money… but you have to let go of thinking ‘I worked hard for this life, for this money! Why should I have to share it with people who can’t even balance their checkbook!?’

You also gotta give people a chance to surprise you, not every poor person with a sob story is just out for a good con. Not all of them are.

You did good, making good on the opportunities we sent you and— I know that struck a nerve but calm down. We sent them so give us some credit.— working hard to get where you are now. And you don’t have to listen to us, but we’re just telling you what will make you happy and fill that hole in your heart and life. You can take our advice or not, it’s up to you. When you’re ready, though, we’ll help you find the right places to send money.”

They care about you, they definitely have a hand in your life even though that seems to upset you but they don’t mean for it to be an insult, instead a testament to how much they care and look after you. I think they’re really sweet for not wanting to push you to do things their way, some Ancestors I’ve met before have been really stubborn and persistent so I think yours are really level headed and kind for this.

I also get the sense that they were business folks when they were on Earth too, in law firms, stock brokerages, and corporations, {whether that job went anywhere or not for them is unclear.} because of how well they worked around the business side of things to help you land deals, get promotions, and i also saw they helped you get your first big job interview.

They also know the lingo for businesses but they have a somewhat informal way of talking to you, {or to me to talk to you.}

Overall, it was a hard pill to swallow but they just wanted to say they’re proud of you but if you wanna stop searching for happiness, this is a surefire way to do that and they’re highly encouraging it. Of course, the decision is yours to make.

That's all for this pile, thank you for sticking around and hearing your ancestors out! I know it wasn’t easy 🩷🫂

If you’d like a personal reading on this, to elaborate or ask them more questions, you can purchase a reading on my Ko-Fi Shop {You’ll need to be a Moon Member for $5 a month in order to purchase it 🩷 The reading itself is One Call Away for $8 or Family Meeting for $15}

🐝 Group B 🐝

Your Cards: 9 of Wands Reversed, 8 of Cups, Queen of Cups, Knight of Pentacles

About Your Ancestors:

I smelled the ocean and then a chlorine pool. I think you or some of your ancestors may have been avid swimmers, swimming competitions seem relevant but also summers and holidays at a lake or beach. 

Indiana and Kentucky are prominent along with West Virginia. You may be from there or live there now, or your ancestors are from there/lived most of their lives there. You have some red haired ancestors, fair skin that burns easily. Blue eyes are common but there’s one Ancestor with Green eyes that’s really important here. Like piercing green emerald eyes.

It feels like you were born into wealth but that you also take your work seriously or enjoy working hard, to maintain that wealth, but that money also isn't "everything" to you.

Your Message:

They see that you want to be charitable but that you’re not sure who or what to give your money to. They suggest talking to more people and taking an active part in looking for causes or people in need. Researching charities online, going in person to local shelters and children’s organizations, you’ll find a place/cause/person to donate to really soon after doing this. Being in person will help you gauge the intentions of the organization and bring clarity on where you should share your money 🩷

Your Channeled Message:

“We know you’re bored, and looking for something fun to do. We’ve talked it over and we agree that donating to a good cause will benefit you. That being hands-on will be what you need to feel alive and excited and fill that need to be involved in something worth a damn.

There’s a few good ones but you’ll need to do your research, call them up, email them, set up a meeting with the campaign organizers and really ask them why they do this and how they use the money.

You’ll be able to gauge— we’ll help you to know— who is right for you and who is shoveling bullshit into your ears. There’ll be some that excite you and they look perfect from the outside but once you sit down and talk to them you’ll see they aren’t what they appear to be.

Be prepared to get your hopes crushed with the ones you think are good. It’ll be one of the places you didnt think twice about that will actually be the right fit for you. So just be prepared to be disappointed a lot before you find that one that lights your soul up.

Also be smart when you do find them, don’t write them a big check right away, do smaller donations first.

{I asked them why.}

Because you’ll be the first {or one of the first} to believe in them and their cause and a large donation will inflate their egos making them veer off course.

You gotta be subtle with your support— and ask to be part of the overseeing committe to track how they use the money. It sounds harsh but they’ll need you to keep them honest and on track. It’s not that they’re a bad organization, it's just that they live in the real world. Where bills and unexpected expenses pop up and they are just starting out so they kinda have their thoughts all over the place. They’re focus is on 20-50 years from now when it should be on this month, next month, this year.

With a large donation they’ll get ahead of themselves and start working on projects that shouldn’t and can’t be supported right now. Just stick to the plan and help them stick to it too. Small donations, regularly sent until we tell you to go bigger.

We love your heart. How much you want to give money away and share it with the world. We wish we were more like you when we were there {on Earth.}

We’re proud that you abandoned our thick skulled ideas and we’re proud to call you our grandson/granddaughter. {Most of you are male but a few are female so they said both 🩷}

We’re sorry we weren’t more supportive of you before, but we see the truth now and we’re here to support you in whatever you need now. And excuse our language some of us are still learning to behave more politely.

We love you. Ask for our help, we’ll do it. We really want you to talk to us more, and we wanna talk to you more. Bridge this gap that’s here ‘cause of me. {some mean from being in the Otherworld and some mean from their “bitter stubborn pig-headedness” —their words lol— while they were here on Earth.} I hope that we can make some kind of arrangement for that. Maybe go out for some tea or something.”

Overall you’re very pure hearted when it comes to your wealth. You don’t take it for granted and you love helping people but your Ancestors are concerned about you giving money to the wrong people. Almost like naivety but it’s just optimism and they understand that 🩷

They aren’t concerned because they think you can’t handle money on your own they just know that if you give money to people who misuse it and you find out down the road you’ll be heartbroken and it could lead to you putting your guard up when it comes to donating later, and they don’t want that.

To protect you, they’re recommending that you become mentally and physically invested in the organizations you support financially.

And they do have deep regrets for how they behaved here with you in the past. Some of you have ancestors that you knew here before they ascended, others only know stories— especially from the people in your hometown, they hold “grudges” towards your Ancestors because of how they behaved. So this could also be a small town thing 🩷

That's all for this pile, thank you for sticking around and hearing your ancestors out! 🩷🫂

If you’d like a personal reading on this, to elaborate or ask them more questions, you can purchase a reading on my Ko-Fi Shop {You’ll need to be a Moon Member for $5 a month in order to purchase it 🩷 The reading itself is One Call Away for $8 or Family Meeting for $15}

Happy Samhain! 🎃✨

𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂

𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑇ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 ~ 𝑇𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑒

Your Cards: Hanged man Reversed, Queen of Wands, Ace of Pentacles, Heirophant, Emperor, 9 of Cups, Strength, Justice Reversed, Death Reversed, 10 of Wands Reversed, 4 of Cups Reversed, 2 of Cups, 6 of Wands, Knight of Wands, King of Swords Reversed, 7 of Cups Reversed

About Your Ancestors:

Your Ancestors couldn’t wait to speak! The cards just started flying out so they definitely feel passionate about this.

Delaware is prominent. Appalachian is also important. Then it’s Missouri, Iowa, Ohio, North Dakota, Arkansas.

The Ancestor that was most prominent was an older lady, she was sitting in a dining hall or an old tea house {where they serve tea and cucumber sandwiches and the ladies dress up in vintage attire and hats.} She is white but the other Ancestors here are not. She was just the one that felt more confident speaking. She isn’t someone you’ve met in this life, she’s either an Ancestor from centuries ago or she ascended while you were too young to remember her. There are Hispanics here, Indians as well, a few Blacks, a handful of Natives from both America and Canada. 🩷

Your Message:

You’re avoiding an opportunity here because you’re afraid of the responsibility that will come from it and you’re afraid of being seen in a public way. Some of you feel like imposters and like if you become famous you’ll end up in lawsuits because you’ve seen it happen to people you adored and your role models ended up being problematic later on and you’re afraid of that happening to you.

{Can I just say Ditto!! 🙋🏻‍♀️ So I totally understand where you’re coming from!}

However, your Ancestors are saying that will never happen to you! You are the embodiment of pure love, kindness and compassion, even if you do have anger and hate towards some things or some people, you are still pure at heart and this is your reward.

This is your prize for being an amazing and beautifully kind person. It’s time for you to stop being afraid of being seen and being famous. It’s time for you to see yourself as you are and not who you’ve been telling yourself you are all these years.

This opportunity for you is something you will use to influence necessary change in this world. Laying down foundations and tearing up outdated ideas to build a more stable, respectful and focused world. This is something you’ll be partnering up with the Divine to create. It’s an incredible thing and they don’t want you to be afraid of it.

You’re worried you’ll lead in a cruel and ruthless, judgmental way but you won’t. You’ll lead with a vision for a better future for everyone, and people will see that 🩷

As for feeling overwhelmed and like there will be too much to carry, you’ll have help. From the Divine and in people, you’ll have the ability to share the load with others so even though you are the “face” of this and the leader, you won’t be leading alone 🩷🫂

Channeled Messages as I heard it:

“Child, you’re wonderful. Incredible, beautiful and kind. Why are you so worried about this turning out badly for yourself? You’re your own worst enemy, you know that, right?

Overthinking and worrying about what people will think of you, worrying about how you’ll mess something up unintentionally. Stop that! {She smacked your hand away from your mouth as you went to bite your nails lol}

Grab some tea {others said water} and pull yourself together. We didn’t raise you to be like this, worried and insecure about your self.

So look in the proverbial mirror and fix your hair and makeup {this is still a genderless reading but this Ancestor is prominent right now and speaking to a makeup wearer 🩷} Stand up straighter, keep your chin up and know who you are. You’re {They said some names lol like actually first middle and last names of people so for privacy reasons I won’t be sharing those.} for christ’s sake!

You are kind, compassionate, intelligent and meant to be seen as a leader in this world!

Don’t shy away from it because of other people’s missteps. I don’t care who your role model was, and quite frankly I do nOt care what they did to screw up my child’s view of themselves but you do not get to shy away from what this world has to offer you, what *I am* offering you, just because of someone else’s dirty laundry getting waved around in town square! {She huffs and straightens herself out as she pulls on the hem of her fitted blouse as she reins in her frustration.}

Now… I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m sick and tired of saying this to you and me not being heard. So pardon my lashing out but this had to be said because you my dear, are wonderful and you deserve every good thing this life has to offer you and I will make damn sure that you get it!

So get off your damn tush and start putting yourself out there because not only is it good for the world but it’s good for you and your happiness. And after all the hell you’ve been through, you deserve a bit of happiness in your life. So take it. ‘Cause it’s right there for the taking.”

She’s definitely passionate about this and I think her swearing is adorable, it made me laugh a lot during the channel 🩷

Although she was the most prominent Ancestor to come through, the others all agreed with her. It felt like when I asked for them to speak they all looked at her and she knew she got appointed with the job to speak for everyone.

I think she also might be the oldest of the group of Ancestors to come through but as I typed that they corrected me 🙈 There are older ones in the group, they appointed her because she has been around long enough to feel their frustration and hope for all of you to “get your act together and put on the best show of your lives” {their words} so they let her speak for all of them.

Plus they knew I’d enjoy her company and energy 😂🩷 They’re all so adorable. This is definitely my favorite pile for this reading because of her!

As for her message, I think it’s definitely something I relate to so I can understand the fear and holding yourself back to protect yourself but the cards and the Ancestors were very clear and adamant that you will not fail.

Something that might help is knowing that: your Ancestors and the Divine will not give you something amazing and push you to do it if it led to your humiliation or detriment when they know it’s something you’re genuinely terrified of.

I know it can be scary, I dealt with it when my spirit team told me to start doing readings online, I’ll prolly share my story later but it was really tough to push through that fear.

I recommend learning about and healing your solar plexus, heart, root, and crown centers {also inappropriately called Chakras} because that’ll help you open up to the possibility of entering the public eye and help nurture and solidify your perspective of yourself.

It might not be an easy road to heal these but if you need help, my asks and DMs are always open!! 🩷 And your Ancestors are also very willing to help you themselves so if you feel comfortable talking to them and asking them directly for help I definitely see that as a great option for you in your journey! 🩷✨

That’s all for this reading 🩷

I really enjoyed doing this!! It did take a lot longer to do this pick a pile because of all the different Ancestors in each pile but it was genuinely so much fun!

If you’d like a personal reading on this, to elaborate or ask them more questions, you can purchase a reading on my Ko-Fi Shop {You’ll need to be a Moon Member for $5 a month in order to purchase it 🩷 The reading itself is One Call Away for $8 or Family Meeting for $15}

𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂

If you have any questions or want me to elaborate on something in this post please reach out, either with my “Pigeon Messenger 🕊️”, comments or DMs. 🩷

𐐪𐑂 My Etsy Divination Shop | My Ko-Fi Shop

𐐪𐑂 Follow my Personal Tumblr @withloveastrid

𐐪𐑂 Follow @starlingschool for divination tips

𐐪𐑂 Support me on Ko-Fi for $3 a Month and get Exclusive Readings 🫖

With Love, Astrid 🩷✨

[you-need-not-apply]

you don’t even vote for the liberal party in your own country so stop judging others for not voting for Kamala

I love this ask because clearly anon has no fucking clue how politics in any country work. Lemme break it down:

In Australia, where I come from, liberal party = conservatives. They are not liberal, they’re mildly far right at best.

Also, how Aussie voting works is that you can still vote for third parties, as we don’t actually elect a prime minister. It’s a little confusing but to dumb is down (and yes I know it’s not completely acceptable just go with it)

Australia has multiple parties, notably are The Liberal party (right wing), The Labour Party (likes to be centre some what left mainly right, workers rights but voted against making price gouging illegal), the Greens (I vote for them just because we need green policy but they’re very far left wing), and like 40 other small parties plus all the independents.

How Aussie elections work is the people vote for people to get them seats in parliament, the majority wins and gets to elect a prime minister, they’re kinda like the kid who organised hide in seek and then didn’t play. Basically they have very little real power other than usual shit, they have to go through our Parliament House to get most stuff done.

And as Australia is still under British rule, we have a bunch on governors in each state and then a “head governor” in charge of says “yeah the colony is still there” back to England every now and again.

Also we can’t change our money without British permission. So every time we change something people hear make this big song and dance about it, which is hilarious considering they don’t give a single fuck.

But how does this allow for third party voting?

Let’s pretend there are three parties (only) the blue the red and the yellow parties. Blue and red want to make a ferry, yellow wants a train. People vote.

Now in America, you vote for the party and that’s your only vote. So if more people want the ferry, but because there are two options the vote is split. Boat wins majority vote, but the train would win because it has the most over all. Got it?

In Australia however, we rank our votes. My brain gone I thought it was 7 or 5 but I’m pretty sure that’s wrong, but it varies okay. So if I wanted a boat but I liked red party more than blue, I would vote 1-red 2-blue, 3-yellow.

Now red doesn’t get enough votes let’s say 20 people voted, 7 blue,8 yellow and 5 red: because I voted for 2 blue, and my first party (red) has been eliminated my vote now moves to the blue party, maybe some from the red party also did blue second and maybe some voted yellow second.

Let’s split the red party 4 for blue and 1 for yellow.

Blue has 11 and yellow has 9. Suddenly the ferry has won!

It’s a complicated system but it makes sure not a single vote is wasted, and as voting is compulsory here (thank fuck) it gives people a lot of leeway to fuck around. Hope this helped anon

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Thirteen

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter Thirteen: Festival Competition

Summary: Saiki and (Y/N) go to a festival, but Kusuke interrupts.

            Saiki teleported to the edge of the forest. In a clearing nearby sat the festival, complete with colorful lights, the smell of food, and various games for people to play. He walked towards the stalls, waiting his parents to pull up with his Grandma, Kusuke, and (Y/N). He looked down at his yukata. It was simple and green with a pink sash, so he was thankful. Because Saiki’s mom was picking out outfits, it could’ve been far crazier (like zebra printed).

            Soon enough, Saiki saw the family car pull up, and his family got out. Neither of his parents had dressed up, but Kusuke was in a simple grey yukata.

            “It’s as boring as ever,” said Kusuke with a smile. “I can still remember how boring it was before. What a boring festival.”

            “Stop calling it ‘boring.’ ” If Saiki had a more expressive face, he would have rolled his eyes.

            Grandma Saiki got out of the car, and Saiki sighed. She wore a purple and white kimono with little pink hearts—very youthful for her age (and short).

            (Y/N) was the last to get out, and Saiki just stood there, staring for a moment. They had on a pink yukata, and a purple obi. It was simple and yet cute. (Especially since the colors of their yukata and his complemented one another). (Y/N) beamed at him, and Saiki’s heart basically stopped. They seemed to glow in the lantern light with that glorious smile, and Saiki was reminded once again just how lucky he was to be with them.

            “Oh, wow.”

            (Y/N)’s cheeks warmed as he spoke, and they chuckled nervously. “Thanks, Kusuo. You look nice, too.”

            Saiki coughed and looked away, embarrassed at the compliment. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

            Click! “Aww, you two are so cute!” Mrs. Saiki giggled from behind her camera. “I’ll send you both the photos later.”

            Saiki didn’t need photos of himself blushing, but when (Y/N) brightened, he just smiled inwardly and nodded at his mom. He’d make sure anything that made (Y/N) happy came true.

            “I like festivals like this,” said Mr. Saiki, looking around.

            “Me, too. I don’t like when they’re too crowded,” agreed Mrs. Saiki.

            “This one is a bit small,” admitted Grandma Saiki.

            “I think we can find some fun,” said (Y/N), smiling. “It matters who you’re with, not where you are.”

            Saiki swore that his mom’s eyes turned to stars, and then her face became demonic as she glared at Saiki. “Never lose them, Kusuo,” she nearly growled.

            …Oh dear, thought Saiki, a little afraid of the intensity.

            “What a good point!” said Mr. Saiki. He took his wife’s hand. “Let’s go and see the festival.” He puffed up his chest. “I’ll win some prizes for you!”

            Mrs. Saiki chuckled and leaned on his arm. “Thank you, sweetheart.” They walked into the festival stalls.

            “Wait for me!” said Grandma Saiki, buying snacks.

            “Kusuo, (Y/N), here,” said Kusuke, holding out caramel apples. He smiled.

            “When did I become ‘(Y/N)?’ ” wondered (Y/N).

            “Don’t become familiar,” said Saiki, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

            “Oh, come on, I like them! I approve,” said Kusuke. “Even if I don’t know how you managed to land a partner so nice when you’re a psychic weirdo.”

            Saiki just deadpanned. He felt a pressure on his hand and looked down. (Y/N) was holding his hand and glaring at Kusuke.

            “Don’t call Kusuo weird, Kusuke,” said (Y/N). “He’s not the one who looks down on people for not being smart. He actually helps people and has friends.”

            Saiki’s breath was once again stolen. Oh, wow. Saiki was extremely lucky to be dating (Y/N). He didn’t deserve them.

            Kusuke laughed out loud. ���I told you I liked them, Kusuo. They even defend you!” He chuckled and turned away. Apparently, he had just been testing if (Y/N) was really worthy of his psychic brother—he competed with Saiki, but that was because he thought only he should get a chance to beat Saiki, and no one else deserved it. (Y/N), however, did.

            “…I walked right into a test, didn’t I?” said (Y/N), sweat-dropping.

            Saiki smiled slightly and squeezed their hand. “It was nice of you. He’s just weird.”

            (Y/N) chuckled and smiled at him in agreement.

            “If you’re talking about me psychically, don’t forget I can still figure out what you’re saying even with this on,” said Kusuke, pointing at his headset as he spotted (Y/N) speaking to Saiki.

            “That blocks telepathy?” said (Y/N).

            “I invented the only thing that blocks his abilities,” said Kusuke with a grin.

            “Don’t tell him,” said Saiki as (Y/N) glanced at him. Their germanium earrings were far more fashionable than that headset, and if Kusuke was going to avoid having his mind read, Saiki wanted him to look silly. (Also, Kusuke hadn’t figured out how to just block his thoughts from Saiki and still be able to hear Saiki “speaking,” which amused Saiki since (Y/N) had that ability with their earrings).

            “I can always tell what he wants to say, though. He’s predictable,” said Kusuke. He pointed at Saiki. “And that’s how I know what you’ll say when I suggest we have a competition.”

            “No,” said Saiki instantly.

            “No?” predicted Kusuke casually. “Alright. But I bet I can win more prizes for (Y/N) than you can.”

            Kusuo and I are dating, but he wouldn’t fall for that level of jealousy bait—

            “You’re on.” No way was Kusuke going to make a fool of him in front of his partner just to boost his own ego.

            Never mind. (Y/N) laughed.

            “(Y/N), you choose the event,” said Kusuke, gesturing to all the stalls.

            “But if you’re a genius, you’ll know what I’m going to choose,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            Kusuke deflated slightly. “It’s part of the fun.”

            “It doesn’t matter. He never wins, anyway,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) took pity on him and Saiki’s pride. “Okay, how about…” They scanned the stalls. “The shooting range.” They pointed to the booth with guns and targets to win stuffed animals and various other prizes.

            “Great choice,” said Kusuke, walking to the shooting range. He handed over some money, and he and Saiki stood side-by-side with separate guns.

            (Y/N) watched them shoot and hit all of their targets down. The pair glowered at each other, and (Y/N) chuckled in amusement as other guests backed away from the two people who looked way too serious while holding guns.

            “You’re not using your abilities?” said Kusuke, smirking.

            “That would be unfair to the attendant,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) smiled. They were glad Saiki wasn’t relying on his powers. It was kind of nice to see him just having fun in the way a regular person would, which was something he always wanted to do.

            “Well, it’s no fun for me, then,” said Kusuke. “I’m changing rules.” He gestured to a giant stuffed animal prize. “If I get the biggest one, I win.”

            “It’s impossible with these guns,” said Saiki. “Also, that’s a creepy doll. I’m not giving (Y/N) that.”

            “If I don’t get the big one, you win,” said Kusuke. “Oh, and you can use your abilities without upsetting the attendant.”

            “Huh?”

            Kusuke pulled out what could only be described as a phaser gun from a sci-fi movie. “Stop me if you can!”

            “What? That gun looks like it could disintegrate people!” exclaimed Saiki.

            “This is not that serious!” said (Y/N), eyes wide.

            “Stop, that’s cheating!”

            Energy collected at the tip of the gun.

            “Hey!”

            “Fire!” shouted Kusuke. A purple beam of light fired from the gun and flew towards the stuffed animal.

            Saiki instantly lifted his own gun and fired. The bullet rocketed forward, propelled by his own abilities in a burst of blue light. It hit Kusuke’s beam of energy, and the two bolts careened off one another into the sky. Kusuke’s eyes widened at losing. The bursts of energy flew into the sky and exploded like fireworks. Pink light showered over the festival, and people gasped in surprise and awe.

            Kusuke pouted, and Saiki just sighed.

            “Yare yare. I still won,” said Saiki.

            “I lost again,” groaned Kusuke. “I was so close this time.”

            Saiki ignored Kusuke and collected the prizes he’d won. He had an entire bag’s worth and picked out a strawberry plushy.

            “Here,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) smiled widely and held the plushy close. “Thank you, Kusuo.” They kissed his cheek, a fleeting touch, but it got a little smile from Saiki.

            “What are you guys doing?” said Mr. Saiki, running up with Mrs. Saiki and Grandma Saiki. They had seen the fireworks and known that their kids were up to something.

            “Just having a fun competition,” chirped Kusuke. “I lost again.” He sighed. “It’s alright. I’ll have another chance.”

            “What do you mean ‘another?’ ” wondered Mr. Saiki.

            Kusuke smiled. “Didn’t I mention it? I graduated from university. I’m moving back to Japan.”

            True horror passed over Saiki’s face. “What?”

            “You can move back in with us!” said Mrs. Saiki happily.

            “I don’t think so,” said Kusuke.

            “Where then?” asked Mr. Saiki.

            “I was thinking of staying with Grandma and Grandpa,” said Kusuke brightly.

            “That’ll be wonderful!” said Grandma Saiki. She pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll tell Kumagoro!”

            Saiki let out a sigh of relief. At least Kusuke wasn’t coming back to live with Mr. and Mrs. Saiki. That would be the end of any peace Saiki had at home. Quickly, he took (Y/N)’s hand and began to pull them away.

            “Let’s escape before he tries to make another competition,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) laughed and followed him. “Good idea.” They squeezed his hand while holding the plushy with their another. “What should we go and do?”

            “Whatever you want,” said Saiki. He just wanted a nice moment with (Y/N).

            “Hmmm.” (Y/N) looked around at the different stalls, and their eyes alighted on a tent where people were sitting and eating. However, at the center of the tent was a wooden stage where people were dancing. Their eyes brightened. They really wanted to dance. But Kusuo wouldn’t want the attention. Plus, that’s a lot of physical contact. They shook their head. They wouldn’t make Saiki uncomfortable just because they wanted to dance. “I don’t know,” said (Y/N). “You choose.” They smiled encouragingly.

            Saiki sighed. He had seen where their eyes went, and there they were, still trying to appease him. They were too nice.

            “Come on,” said Saiki, gently pulling them towards the tent.

            “Huh?” said (Y/N), surprised.

            “Let’s dance,” said Saiki, setting down his bag and taking (Y/N)’s plushy. Then, he took their hands and guided them onto the dance floor.

            (Y/N)’s smile turned bright, and Saiki fell head-over-heels for them for the hundredth time. He knew that he’d never grow tired of making them smile. “Super Trouper” by ABBA began to play. Saiki moved awkwardly, not sure how to dance. (Y/N) laughed and held his hands firmly. They swung his arms and moved their feet to the beat. Slowly but surely, Saiki began to move with them, though he really didn’t pay attention much to what he was doing. He was only looking at (Y/N) as they grinned and sang along to the music, bouncing on their feet playfully.

            And so, to preserve that smile for as long as he could—he’d bend the world to their will if they’d ask in order to make them happily, not that they would ask (which made him care all the more)—he copied what he saw other couples doing. Saiki firmly held (Y/N)’s hand and spun them around. They laughed in surprise and twirled a couple times, smiling giddily.

            As the music played, (Y/N) moved closer to him and put their arms around his neck. He smiled slightly and put his hands on their waist, still moving together to the music. (Y/N) threw their hands up and sang along to the music while Saiki watched them adoringly. (Y/N) smiled at him. They really, really lov—cared about Saiki. He was one of the best things to ever happen to them, and they were so lucky to be with him.

            “You’re the best, Kusuo,” they said, smiling.

            “I’m not,” said Saiki.

            “You’re the best for me, then,” said (Y/N) firmly. They laid their head on his chest while they hugged him close.

            Saiki smiled at them as he held them close. “You’re the best for me.” No one else came close. He lifted a hand and tilted their face towards his. Leaning in, he kissed them softly.

            Smiling, (Y/N) kissed back.

Taglist:

@elaemae

@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

@w0mank1sser

@geminigengar

@noodleryworld

@leonardo-dabitchy

@janezee12751275

@xenop0p

@ex160-blog1

@boogiemansbitch

@dmitrytherat

@yuriisclumsy

@sixxze

@constellationguy

@k03ume

@sweatyinternettrash

@paastaboi

@unorthodox-gob

@girlswhopanic

@h-i-g-h-w-a-y-t-o-h-e-l-l-l

@drowningfishy

@rinwho

@izzieg3987

@candylp

@jmclouds

@ittomain1

@justamina-blog

@newtscreatures347269

@digital-dumbass

@chronovala

@yappydoo

@mymomsdisappointment

@lvvcian

@kyliexreads

@b3bybunny

@sle3pyh3ad2

@snowy-violet

@jaguarthecat

@isaacdaknight

@newttheglue250

@thelameone101

@peqch-pie

@rai-xxx

@loverzxi

@s0ggyrats

@introvertathome

[abugshapedeldritchbeing]

Wow, buggo lore… hmmm. What stories do i have. A few, actually.

When I was 4 months old my mom dressed me up as a victorian zombie baby (she is very specific about this). This was my first cosplay.

One time when i was a younger kid and fucking stupid, I had a massive crush on my parents’ friends’ oldest son (very specific, i know). This guy was a year older than me and I don’t think he actually liked me very much in the first place, but then i tried to kiss him (it was my first kiss but I pretend it wasn’t). It’s been almost a decade and we’ve barely spoken since.

When I was a little older, my parents became friends with some people at a convention. These people had a daughter, who was a year older than me. I started hanging out with this girl and she was my first toxic friend. However, she had a lot of LEGO sets just sitting around. So whenever i was forced to play with her, i’d steal 1-2 LEGOS. In the end I stole like, every little LEGO cat she had.

Final story. I don’t remember how old I was, but I was young enough to be unable to cook. I lived with my grandfather (on my dad’s side) before he passed away. This guy was old. And had a bad sense of humor. It was a weekend, my parents were out of the house, and i was just as bad at feeding myself as I am now, except I was also a demonspawn of a child. I came out of my room and asked for an egg. I very specifically said “Grandpa, can i have an egg”. Because at the time my family always had a few boiled eggs in the fridge. Well, this fucker took a raw egg out of the carton and handed it to me. I proceeded to stomp to my room and scream. I am still salty about this one.

I sound like a brat in a few of these but I promise I look back on these and cringe so hard lmao

@dragooooo no pressure!

it's so weird to me that everyone on this website is a human person outside of their weird internet niche so rb this with a random bit of your lore