#I just want a friends family art and nature kind of life

[moodymakeshifter]

My dad was just yelling about the vital responsibility of mankind to comprehend its flaws and take the hard step toward correcting them, and I replied with: Nothing you just said matters at all. The dead raccoon on the side of the road— it doesn't matter for him. The woman drawing her last breath in a hospital bed surrounded by family— it doesn't matter for her. They might spare the world and its troubles one last blink of thought before they go, but that would be a waste of precious time. All that matters is that we draw breath, and we go around doing what we like, and we try our best not to negatively impact each other's experiences whenever possible. That's it. Because every creature's days are numbered. And yes, there are noble ways to live. There are ways that involve sacrifice and compassion, and they are fine, but they're not necessarily better than other ways. The only bad way to live is to squander time with regret, fear, hatred, and malevolence. Just living one day to the next and relishing company is okay. The Universe and its mysteries shouldn't be a weight pressing on you every minute. It's there. You're here. We're all together. And we CAN take it easy. We really can.

[lavenderspence]

A bunch of cuties in love | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, nicknames (i think that's about it?)

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Running late to a meeting with Strauss, Hotch leaves Jack with his favorite person - you. The scene that greets him when he comes back leads to some realizations. 

Request: Hotch request: BAU!Reader is Jack’s favorite and always spends the day with them when he’s brought along to the office. They have a cute bonding moment that Hotch secretly watches. Cue the “oh god I’m in love with them aren’t I”

A/N: it’s been two months today since I made this blog, and it’s been wild, it’s been fun, and it’s been a little teary. thank you for the love and support! Please enjoy this cute little hotch piece, I had a blast writing it! Thank you to the anon who requested this, and I’d love to hear what you think! Also, I miss old Disney😭

masterlist

9:23.

On the days you weren’t working on a case, and the only thing you really needed to catch up on was paperwork, your usual start time was 8:30. Yet almost an hour had gone by and he wasn’t in his office like he usually would be.

With a punctual Unit Chief like Aaron Hotchner, it was a shock, and a little nerve-wracking that he was late. 

You’d lie if you didn’t say you were getting a little worried, taking into account the last and only time he’d been late - Foyet attacking him in his own home, leaving him with long-lasting trauma, scars, and without his family. 

You'd never forget that day, and every day after where he was left to suffer, laying the blame on himself. No matter how many times you said it, how many times Rossi patted him on the back, reminding him it wasn't his fault, you knew a part of him still didn't believe it.

And the part of you that cared about him, maybe a little more than you should, didn't have the heart to watch him do this to himself - the silent guilt, the long empty looks. 

You’ve known him awhile, seen him through many of his ups, and just as many as his downs. You’d seen him laugh in glee and beam with happiness, you’d seen him lose it in anger and anguish and you’d seen him cry in heartbreak. 

So much of your life spent beside him, so many memories linked with him, and your team. And much of it you knew was friendly love - your love for Emily and Spencer, JJ and Morgan, Penelope and Rossi. But the love you felt for him was just a tiny bit different, deeper, not the friendly kind. 

You’d only recently started to understand what you were really feeling for him, as recent as the last few weeks. Still new and a little unexplainable at times, you were learning to balance that, within your friendship.

You didn’t think you wanted to pursue anything, right now. It had been a little over two years since he’d lost Haley, since he’d needed to start navigating his life as a single dad, a widower. 

You could still see the pain in his eyes, fresh as the day it had happened. You knew he was managing, but it was still apparent, that it was hitting them both hard.

And Jack? He was a little ray of sunshine in the otherwise gruesome life all of you led - the same could be said about Henry. But Henry was Reid's favorite, as his godfather, you knew the bond between them was unbreakable. 

But Jack? You were his favorite, and he was yours. 

He was your little buddy, your partner in all things art, cartoons, and Disney shows. He was your little helper during all things baking - you'd babysat once and he'd requested chocolate chip, peanut butter cookies and you'd been more than happy to help him make them.

He was a natural baker and a little taster. 

Your love for the little cutie ran as deep as your feelings for his dad.

At the end of the day though, you were a friend, a shoulder both could use to lean on and rely on. You were comfortable in your role within their little family and weren't looking to make any changes then.

9:28.

You were playing with your watch, already having decided you’d be giving him a call if he didn't arrive by 9:30.

Worry was making your hands sweat, and just as you went to wipe them on your pants, the door to the bullpen opened, and in walked a very frantic Hotch - his tie was a little crooked, shirt a little wrinkled, and Jack - a little backpack on his back, and a curious look paired with a timid smile.

Aaron's eyes searched the bullpen, as did Jack's, the little Hotchner noticing you seconds before his father did. You stood up, watching as the blond pulled away from his dad, and on a little run, made his way towards you. 

“Cutiee.” He called out, using the nickname you called him, to address you too. You leaned down when he was a few steps away, accepting his hug, his little arms wrapping around your neck. 

“Hi, cutie.” You greeted him, a wide smile on your face. Hotch had made his way over to you by then, giving you a barely-there smile, but his eyes shone.

“You're late.” You started, pulling to your full height.

“Yeah, Jessica was called on an emergency at the last minute, and Liah is away on a hiking trip, so here we are.” Liah was Hotch's neighbor, she looked after Jack for a few hours when Hotch couldn't stay with him, or Jess was busy.

He looked at his watch, running a hand through his hair, messing it up a little.

“I have a meeting with Strauss…well, right now. Can you please watch him until I get done?” 

“Go, don't make her wait. We'll be okay and we're going to have fun. Right, Jack?” You watched him nod at both you and his dad before Hotch exhaled.

“You're a lifesaver. Be good for Y/N, okay buddy.” Another nod from Jack, and he was on his way to Strauss's office.

‘’Okay Jack, let's see if Aunt Penelope can download a few episodes of ‘The Suite Life’ for us, and then we'll go color and draw for a while. Does that sound good to you?” 

“Very good. Can I also have orange juice?” He asked, taking your hand in his small, soft one, fingers wrapping around your own.

“Let's go see if we have any.” You walked towards the small communal kitchen space, checking the fridge and then you checked the pantry…and, “Bingo. Let's go see the lair.” You led him to Penelope's office.

“Knock, knock, may us mortals enter?” You joked, making your little partner giggle. 

“Us?” Her voice rang from the other side of the door.

“I have sir Hotchner with me. The smaller one.”

“Hey,” Jack said in outrage

“My favorite Hotchner.” You added.

Penelope pulled the door open, beaming at both of you, before she made space for you to enter. 

“Jack, my love, hi,” She raised her hand, letting him give her a high five. Even though she was affectionate, Jack wasn’t as much, especially after Haley. He only hugged a few people now - Jess, his dad, and surprisingly, you. 

It really showed how comfortable he was with you.

“What brings you to my tech cave?” She asked. You raised your brows at him, prompting him to do the talking. 

“Can you, please, download a few episodes of Zack and Cody for us?” His voice rang with its usual child calm and sweetness, fingers intertwined in front of him. 

Penelope's smile softened even more, “Sure thing, sweetie,” Her eyes turned towards you then, “Your tablet?”

“Yes, please.” You knew it was a work tablet, but no one had to know.

“Any requests?” She asked the little guy.

“You pick.”

“Okay-dokey. Should have it in about 10 minutes, my loves.”

“Thank you, Aunt Penelope.”

“Thanks Pen.” You gave her air kisses before you led Jack out and towards his father's office. 

His day had started rocky, hell, the whole night had gone that way. 

Jack had woken up from a nightmare - twice at that. After the second time, he’d asked Aaron to sleep in his bed, too scared and sad to stay in his room.

He’d snoozed his alarm, just once, and had a hard time waking his son up too. He’d had 20 minutes to get himself ready, but Jessica had called 10 minutes before she was supposed to arrive - apologizing because she’d been called on an emergency at work. 

Aaron had to rearrange his whole morning then, already aware he’d be late for work. He’d had to get Jack and his backpack ready and cook him breakfast. All of that, and be in the office before his 9:30 meeting with Strauss. 

Breakfast and preparing Jack for a day at the BAU, he’d done successfully. Arriving on time had been a little tricky, with barely 2 minutes to spare. 

But when he’d walked into the bullpen, Jack spotting you just seconds before he did, and he’d watched your smile grow, he’d known all would be okay. 

Watching you with Jack always brought a warm feeling within him, like he was watching something sacred. You were always patient and kind, always interested in listening to him talk, even though he was a quiet kid, who appreciated quality time more. 

You gave him that too, and a lot of it - you watched cartoons and shows with him. Colored and drew, baked cookies, and played with him whenever he wanted. Any time spent with Jack was about what he wanted, what he liked doing, and above all, making him comfortable. 

Even if it meant cleaning flour off your kitchen floor and whatever had gotten in the drawers too. 

He appreciated, even loved the bond you had with his son, every smile, every hug, and every minute you spend with him. He loved hearing about you from Jack - what you’d done together, what you’d told him, the stories, the jokes, the conversations. 

Hearing his son proclaim you as his favorite person in the BAU had made his heart soar. Taking into account all the time you spent with him, it wasn’t really a surprise. He bonded hard, but once he did, he never went back.

He was much like Aaron himself in that regard. His trust had to be earned, as did his friendship, and it required hard work. Jack was much the same. And you’d successfully earned both of theirs with your beautiful and caring personality. 

He exhaled a breath, checking his watch, step fast, and briefcase in hand. 

11:18.

His meeting with Strauss had run longer than he’d anticipated - over an hour and a half. Diplomacy, politics, budgets, and cuts, they’d run through countless things, half of that meeting already fully blacked out from his memory. 

He was tired - every meeting with Strauss left him drained. Worried,  about Jack and his state of mind after last night. All he wanted to do was get to his office and check up on his son. 

Walking into the bullpen for the second time that day, he quickly made his way towards his office, only to stop short at the window. The blinds were open, having forgotten to close them last night, so he had a clear and full view of his office.

You were sat on the couch close to the armrest, Jack cuddled against you, cheek squished against your collarbone, face almost buried in your neck. 

Your work tablet sat propped on the coffee table, and your arm wrapped around his small body, keeping him close. His eyes were almost closed, your thumb running soothingly on his back. 

He watched, mesmerized by the scene. He felt himself soften, all of him. His face, the furrow in his brow, and the tight set of his lips. His whole body, his heart, suddenly at peace. 

For months he'd observed the kindness you showed everyone - the families of victims, heartbroken by the injustice of life. Passersby, people you might never see again. Your team, especially, your work family. Jack, and even Aaron himself. 

And as he watched you with his son, the one person left in this world who truly loved him, no matter his rights or wrongs - he couldn't help but feel himself unravel. 

Every little thought he'd had about you, every feeling he might have somehow suppressed in order to protect himself and his child, they all attacked him, in seconds. 

Because the truth was, you earned his trust, his friendship, and somehow along the way, you'd won his heart as well.

Right at that moment, his heart pounded in need, in adoration, in pure, clear love. Love he hadn't allowed himself to feel since Haley. Love, he'd frankly hadn't felt in years, ever since he’d put his signature down on the dotted line. 

He wanted to get home to see this. He wanted to see you put Jack to bed, and kiss his forehead with a whispered ‘good night’.

He wanted to stroke your cheek tenderly, pull you into a kiss that made you melt, and stroke a fire within you like no one else could. 

He wanted to tell you he loved you - in the car, as he drove you to work. In the kitchen during breakfast and dinner. In his office, a few stolen moments as you worked. And under the sheets, while you made love. 

And even through the fear that gripped him in a vice, of rejection, separation, and even trust - he still wanted to love you, as if he was loving someone for the first time again. 

“Everything okay, Aaron?” David asked, passing on the way to his office. 

Aaron barely spared him a glance, nodding his head a little, “Yeah, it's okay.”

He pushed the door to his office open and walked in, greeted by his new favorite sight, and his two favorite people. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[harmoonix]

🎇Fairytale Dream🎇

• Astrology Observations •

2024 CELEBRATION 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾

💎 - Natives with Midheaven (MC) in the 11th house can usually have a lot of friends because this placement indicates popularity, you can have friends even at your place/job

💎 - I just know people with Libra/Leo placements always wanted to live in a castle when they were younger, honestly you can't blame them because it's their thing with royalty

💎 - Cancer/Moon in the 6th house are very adorable when it comes to pets, they love animals a lot and they can create a special bound with the animals

💎 - Jupiter - Neptune trine/sextile/conjunct i know these natives are the fairytale themselves, they are dreamy, they are with their head in the clouds, they are magical, and they are kind. The perfect fairytale

🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾🌾🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾

🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾

💎 - Asteroid Medusa (149) - In Libra/7th house. Be careful because people are gonna be jealous/envy on your partners/partnerships/relationships, you gonna attract really good partners

💎 - Juno aspecting Medusa can be another indicator of attracting envy/jealousy because of your relationship/partners (boyfriends, girlfriends)

💎 - Psyche (16) or Vesta (4) in Water signs are artist souls. For them art is everything and their soul can embody "piece of art" definition. They can be so much attracted to music because their souls want that

💎 - I know Cancer/Capricorn placements love to spend time with their families a lot, for some of them their family can be the most important thing in their lives

🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾

💎 - Venus/Moon in the 3rd house can indicate a good relationship with your siblings, you can have that "you can always count on me" thing between you

💎 - Virgo Placements (esp Sun or Moon) love to words of affirmation, like tell them good things and treat then good and they are gonna be yours forever. They also love to hear people talking nice about them

💎 - Jupiter/Venus in the 4th house can make great parents (Moms and Dads) these placements can actually indicate a good family life and the one family you gonna create with your specific person

💎 - Aphrodite (1388) in the 5th house or Leo they are having such a beauty, you love life. You love yourself. They are very very verry royal/bold

💎 - Aphrodite (1388) in Gemini or in the 3rd house, I know one thing about them and that is their voice, their voice can charm anybody and they can be very flirty (I actually believe Aphrodite can feel good in these placements)

🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾

🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾

💎 - Aphrodite (1388) in Scorpio/8th house are very magnetic, they are having a charisma that can pull people close to them

💎 - Capricorn Sun/Moon/Rising = Good face structure. Also strong bones/body most of people with those placements can become models because of their body

💎 - Sun at 6°, 18° degrees can talk about a native who can prioritize themselves a lot, they can be very nurturing and sometimes can end up a bit criticizing probably as their dark trait

💎 - Sun at 2°,14°,26° degrees can talk about a native who may love to be grounded. Who may love to spend time in the nature and to love going in places where they can feel close to nature

🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾

💎 - Sun at 12°,24° degrees can talk about a native who dreams a lot and has a lot of wishes, they may having a lot of personal desires and a very free spirit

💎 - Sun at 8°,20° degrees can talk about a native who can be a very loyal person and a person who is very capable of keeping secrets, like with them or not them your secrets will not be heard by anyone else

💎 - Sun at 10°,22° degrees all I hear i money, dreaming money, sleeping with money 🤑💰, jokes aside they are very respectable by others and very serious when it comes to specific things

💎 - Mercury in 9°,21° degrees or in Sagittarius natives can have a really great humour and good jokes, they love to make other people to laugh and to make them feel good

💎 - Saturn in the 9th house/Saturn in Sagittarius natives may have to an important lesson to learn about their faith and the way they believe in things

🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾

💎 - Part of Fortune in Aquarius or at 11°,23° degrees can be successful/popular in online. The media can be so much focused on them

💎 - Part of Fortune in Scorpio or at 8°, 20° degrees can have a lot of fame because of their Image, they may also have some controversy in the media. You're magnetic girl don't worry about the controversy

💎 - "You got me feeling like a Diamond rich" - Leo placements esp Sun/Moon or Rising in Leo 🦁

🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾

💎 - Neptune in the 1st house can really have a soft skin. Also they can be sensitive to the sun's light, does it happen to have irritations of skin in summer?

💎 - "Is very important to let yourself free" - Aries and Sagittarius placements because they are the most adventurous people I i know

💎 - People with prominent 3rd house placements can like cars a lot, some of them may like cars some of them may have a love for other vehicles like a van for example

💎 - People with Mars - Uranus aspects are great at dancing and they have a good chance for becoming professional at some specific dances

🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾𓆉🌾

🎇 HAPYY NEW YEARS EVERYBODY!!♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️🎉🎉🎉 OFFICIALLY THE FIRST POST FOR 2024!!!!🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉♥️♥️♥️♥️🎉🎉🎉♥️♥️♥️♥️🎉🎉🎉♥️♥️🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉♥️♥️♥️🎉🎉🎉🎉

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

I hope everyone out here will have the best YEAR🎉🎉🎉♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

[shakethediseeas]

A mother-type yn in alien stage who's very gentle with every human even if they're a weird(?) (It's luka) in a scenario where they sacrifice themself for the other (very original in alst i know) would be very !!! If they have some kind of lullaby they used to sings for everyone that they hum a tune of it in their last breath, smiling.

ALST CHARACTERS WITH A PARENT-FRIEND READER

You just always had to put others before yourself, huh?

I mean, knowing you, it shouldn't have been a surprise; they should have seen this coming.

But now seeing it happen, you, lifeless on the floor... It's hard to forget. The caring smile on your face, even though you knew you were going to die, you don't care as long as they're safe.

You were the oldest of them all so naturally without even knowing, you cared for them as if they were your family.

You'd teach Mizi, Till and Sua how to make some arts and crafts while watching over Luka who was running from Hyuna.

"Luka... careful! dont pull her!" you softly scold.

It was easy for you to grow on them because they didn't really have parental figures, you were the best moment of their lives.

It took you a while to grow on Ivan, though. After you did, he would always hold your hand, watching the rest with a blank face while you continued talking to him about anything.

Every night, when one of them struggled to fall asleep, you'd make them all gather around in a circle while you sang to them; this time, it was Till who couldn't sleep, so he got to rest his head on your lap while you caressed his head. It always worked.

You'd do anything for them, that much was obvious. When one of them was in trouble you'd go to hell and back just for their sake. You fought for Till. You almost lost your life helping Ivan with Till so they could escape...

You didn't say a word after they came back.

Hyuna would always try to impress you, give you gifts and try to act cool around you, you'd laugh and go along with it. She admires you a lot, you're so composed in any situation and you rush into danger just for the people you care about. She wants to be like that.

Luka... He was...

There is no real way to describe him. He's very smart, but he's quiet and dissociates a lot. You're always there to comfort him and sing softly to him while he hugs you mindlessly.

You had given him a small puzzle for you and him to solve, you went away for a minute and it was already completed. So , you always made more challenging ones everytime. He really appreciated that.

For till , you got him a guitar made of whatever you could, you'd tune it for him and hed smile with beaming eyes at you and always showed you the songs he'd write.

When you got older, you were forced to participate before them, and in your second tournament, you were forced to go up against...

At first, they almost downright refused to participate in the round. upset but they didn't show it. Hesitation as they sing and angry when they see you don't even bother to try.

their eyes widen when you go to sing the sweet melody you played for them, legs weak and they stutter out the lyrics.

You give them a bright smile before everything goes black.

They promised you that they would survive just for you.

[sold2vlaykz]

YOU

What kind of partners I think each slasher would have!

Michael Myers

Someone mature yet naive. Michael only kills people who pose as threats, or that could potentially get in his way.

I think he’d likely go for someone who’s mature enough to be a natural adult but naive enough to believe that they could change him.

Jason Voorhees

Christian nature lover, it just seems to be in his character. Especially with his background, a soft person who has a soft spot for natures creatures.

He’d love a sympathetic person, someone who’s emotionally mature enough to understand why he does what he does but has enough morals to know it’s wrong despite.

He’d love someone who he thinks would’ve saved him when he was drowning or at least tried to be his friend.

Gabriel may

An outcast, someone’s who’s likely been abused or neglected, in wards etc. Gabriel seems like the type of man to want someone he can relate too.

Someone who understands his shaky view of life, someone who has morals but doesn’t try to discourage what he does it try to get him to stop because they understand.

Jacob Goodnight

A christian woman, someone who dresses modest and reads books. Respectful and kind someone that his mother would’ve been at least decently fond of.

Bubba sawyer

A farmer or a gardener. Or just someone sweet in general. Someone who manages to befriend his family and doesn’t seem to pose a threat or want to harm him.

Someone who doesn’t look down on his deformity or cannibalistic family.

Art the clown

Someone completely deranged, mentally unstable and psychotic. Gothic, satanic or atheist. Someone who helps him in his crime, or kills.

The Babadook

A soft mother figure almost, an insect enthusiast.

Chucky

A psychopath or sociopath, he’d date crazy but not someone who’s totally batshit insane. Someone with attachment issues based on how he deals with people who want to leave him.

Vincent Sinclair

Artist, or an art enthusiast. Someone with a traumatic past or a slight psychical deformity. More of a trauma bonding relationship.

Bo Sinclair

City girl, someone who tends to wear revealing clothes with a snarky attitude. A fighter, or just a rough handed/strong woman.

Lester Sinclair

A hunter or a foodie. He’d likely just go line up at a food truck and fall in love with the person working there.

Freddy Krueger

A tough snarky woman, someone who has a short attitude and doesn’t know how to lucid dream. Someone shorter than him.

Patrick Bateman

Someone slightly innocent, an airhead. Someone with a sense of humor who interest defer from his.

Dominic

Someone feminine, someone who’s empathetic and helps others often. Likely someone who volunteers at shelters of just a genuine kind person who has made mistakes.

Hannibal

Someone highly intellectual. Understanding and knows kinesics (Body language.)

Billy Loomis

Someone who has the same aesthetic as him, a horror fanatic, a true crime fan.

Billy Lenz

Someone who’s very hyper sexual and can deal with his sex depravity.

Harry warden

Someone who’s self reserved, respects rules, doesn’t wear too much revealing clothing, introverted.

Norman bates

Someone bold or not shy to speak their mind, someone who’s outgoing and very friendly. Typically someone with a flirtatious demeanor.

Pyramid head

Someone with a lot of unresolved trauma, someone who’s introverted, self reserved, and delusional.

ROB ZOMBIE Michael Myers

Introvert, someone strong or takes on the same personality as his mother. Independent, and younger than him.

[6ronze]

DEJA VU

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ — l&ds characters : sylus. zayne. rafayel. fem!reader format : short stories/HCs warnings : fluff. angst. sfw. unelaborated suggestive scenes in sylus’s part long story short : when they fall in love with you, but you never existed in the first place notes : inspired by zayne’s alternate universe where he fell in love w mc in his dreams but written my way + i haven't written in a whilleeee

ZAYNE

Zayne knew lack of sleep could cause hallucinations and make someone have their eyes playing tricks on them. What Zayne didn’t know was that he could fall victim to those conditions.

He was disciplined despite his busy schedule as a cardiac surgeon. Zayne made sure he took sufficient naps to make up for the sleep he lost the night before and went straight to bed after finishing his work. He’s maintained this same routine for years yet somehow, he still ends up hallucinating about the same woman he’s seen since childhood.

He was 11 years old when he started seeing this woman around. Zayne as a child thought she was kind, someone he felt awfully fond of. When he wanted to ask his parents if she was a family friend, they merely cocked their heads to the side in confusion asking ‘Who?’. The older he got, the more he was convinced she was just an imaginary friend that children naturally have. But was she really imaginary when he kept showing up in his slumber, his dreams, and even in his conscious mind?

Zayne is 27 years old now. And he’s more convinced than ever that her appearance in his head when he hasn’t even seen her, nor anyone looking remotely similar to her in Linkon City, was connected to his evol.

He’s long accepted that hypothesis of his for the past years was true. Since it was only proven right with the small snowmen he made during every winter. How fond he was of creating ice figures of the plushies he saw when walking past claw machines at festivals.

Zayne often stared at his creations and caressed the snow with the pads of his fingers. He always looked at them with care, feeling the inexplainable need to preserve it—to preserve her. Even if they were just fleeting memories.

RAFAYEL

An artist in Linkon City, Rayafel. His works were as known as his name. Most people were curious about the rarely seen artist, questions about him arising. The journalists that were lucky enough to get to chat with him for a few minutes finally asked —who or what was his muse?

Muse. An inspiration, a devotion—the true cause of his masterpieces that were both stunning, and heart-wrenching.

“My muse.. is a ‘who’. And before you start bombarding me with questions about the specifics—’ *Rafayel answered, taking his time before parting his lips to offer an answer. His eyes flickered over to face the journalist ahead of him, Rafayel’s lips pursed to straight line that wasn’t often seen from the expressive and blunt man.*

“Let’s just say she’s out of your camera’s reach,” The purpled haired man continued, his brows subtly furrowing as he stared into the eyes of the stunned journalist. Rafayel’s answer made room for assumptions, the implication of his muse being out of reach sparking media attention and theories.

In Rafayel’s mind after that interview were only filled with thoughts on how to bring her to life in this world. He had to be careful with his words—the execution. Rafayel wanted a piece of his muse to be shared, a mark, a small hint to others of who truly occupied in his mind when he made his art pieces.

Rafayel started seeing her in a nightmare. It was the same nightmare that reoccured even in the most comfortable nights like a reminder. The thing is—he didn’t know a reminder for what exactly. He’s never seen her, never met her, nor does he heard her name anywhere in Linkon City despite his efforts to search for her. She didn’t exist. Yet that never stopped him from feeling so familiar, so intimate with her, like she meant the world to him once—no, it felt like she still does.

SYLUS

Sylus has been the leader of Onychinus in N109 zone for as long as he can remember in this world. He’s had his fair share of blood and immoralities that came with the job but at least it made sense. At least, it was rational. For survival, animal instinct of a human, pleasure—he could find the cause for it even if it was twisted. But this. This wasn't something he could make sense out of no matter how much he twisted his mind to find the root for it.

He has a girlfriend. Someone he’s decided to pursue after years of merely picking and dropping gems of women he found attractive in the clubs he frequented. This woman matched him—he thought. This would work—he hoped. He just needed something. Anything. To get the woman he kept seeing in his mind off his thoughts.

One would have thought the mysterious girl sylus that plagues his mind was someone he knew. A past relationship, an acquaintance, maybe even a fling. Yet it was neither of those. He doesn’t know her. He’s never seen her in his life. He shouldn’t be thinking about her—fuck, how does he even how she looks like? No matter how much time he spent pondering, recalling, digging information about someone who looked like her, he found nothing. The only conclusion he came to make was that she doesn’t exist.

And maybe someone else might have thought she would appear in his mind in his dreams—but no. It was the darker moments. The near death experiences, the life-risking gambles he took with every decision he made. It was the moments where his eyes would flicker, and his vision would slowly swim into a haze, would she appear. He didn’t like it. Never liked how the sight of her during those moments actually soothed him in ways nothing else could. Her lips that he stared into almost coaxing him to go with her to other side where they could finally meet.

Sylus couldn’t lie—he was truly tempted to accept.

The brows of the white haired man furrowed deeply in the dead of the night of his quarters, glass of wine in hand. He stared out the view out the large windows ahead of him, his free hand lifting to run through his in a rough tug.

His frown never seemed to leave him. Not even after spending a sweet night with his current beloved. He could still see it. The distinct features of that gorgeous woman in the back of his mind.

Sylus gripped his glass tighter, internally scolding himself for thinking about another when his woman was right behind him, comfortably sleeping in his bed, under his covers. He grunted, laying his head back against the headrest of the armchair.

He was frustrated, curious, and all of the above. Feeling his jaw clench at the thoughts that swarmed his mind, he downed the rest of his wine in one gulp and got from his seat. He walked around his bed to the nightstand, placing his glass down.

His crimson eyes landed on his lover that slept in his bed, her bare body covered by the blanket. Sylus felt his frown begin to relax, a soft breath leaving his lips. He took a step closer to the bed, reaching out a hand to brush the hair from her face. His neutral expression turned to one of longing the more his fingers lingered on her skin.

He wanted to find her so badly. Sylus wanted to face her and demand she answer his questions. Although he knows that won’t be possible.

[urhoneycombwitch]

shrine of your lights

🍯 honey flavour: edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one? 

🐝 the bees: FWB!Eddie x reader 

wc: 4.8k

content warnings: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all. 

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing. 

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out. 

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath. 

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin. 

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance. 

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears. 

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts. 

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera. 

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place. 

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson. 

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him. 

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business. 

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention. 

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard. 

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby. 

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.” 

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.  

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache. 

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons). 

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass. 

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look. 

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes. 

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack. 

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up. 

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot. 

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space. 

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side. 

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm. 

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks. 

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

[bornagainmurdock]

harmonious

author's note: hi omg thank you anon for this request! i was a band and orchestra kid and love love love this idea! i decided to go with cellist, not sure why but i have strong feelings about matt loving cellos.

contents: fluffy, matt murdock x reader, gender neutral reader, meet cute technically, and then a series of cute dates, first kiss

word count: 1.9k

Matt had been a regular at the syphony since he had graduated law school. It was a nice constant in his life knowing that every month on the third Friday he could go to the music hall and hear music. Various guest musicians shuffled through, each featured for one show before traveling to a new city to guest, but tonight was something different: a member of the symphony was being granted a guest spot, performing as the soloist for the week.

You had started playing cellos what felt like eons ago. Playing felt like second nature, so when you were offered the guest spot for April, you accepted on the spot, already having put together a concert's worth of music to perform.

Matt had heard your name before. You had features every now and then in pieces. Since he was a regular, the music hall started printing braille programs for him. He liked running his finger over your name. It was his favorite song. So when he heard you were the soloist, he couldn't have been more excited.

He hadn't spoke to you, but had heard you speaking in the lobby post shows talking to your family and friends that had attended.

Tonight, the night of your headlining show, Matt spent an extra hour getting ready, trying his best to look pristine and perfect, not a hair out of place. He had asked Karen to help him find some nice cuff links for the show a few weeks back, so tonight when he finally unboxed them, he pressed over them with his fingers as he clasped them and smiled. Two little metal silver forte designs.

At the show, Matt recevied his braille program, finding his way to his usual seat and dancing his touch over your name over and over, excited and smiling the whole time.

When the curtain rose and the auditorium fell silent, Matt wiggled in his seat, placing the program in his lap to clap the director providing your introduction.

Throughout the show, Matt gasped and clapped at your skills, constantly impressing him with your musical abilities.

Once the show ended, you approached the mic and thanked the audience for coming, and laughed. It felt like golden sunlight to Matt, his smile glossy and bright as you spoke.

When the curtain fell, Matt stood, walkign out into the lobby and waited to hear your voice.

"Mom! Thank you for coming. I'm so glad you could make it." You shouted.

Matt wasn't trying to eavesdrop on your conversation, but he did want to congradulate you on a great show, so he began to walk over to you.

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say that you chose a lovely program. I am constantly amazed by your talents." Matt spoke, blushed and starstruck.

"Mr. Murdock, what an honor to hear a compliment like that from you, one of the best lawyers in New York. I'm really glad you liked the show." You smiled.

"That's far too kind, but thank you." Matt said.

Your family and friends walked away for a second, giving you some time to speak to Matt.

"I'm grateful you came to talk to me this evening. You always seem to dart out so fast, never get a chance to thank you for supporting the arts." You said.

"The symphony gives me some time to myself to enjoy the wonders of the world. I'm glad I got to speak to you this evening as well. I feel very lucky to be in the prescense of such greatness."

"I could say the same. I have to mingle about the room, but could I get your number?" You said, perhaps a bit too forward, but willing to embarass yourself nonetheless.

"Absolutely. Here why don't you put yours in my phone, and I'll call you." Matt smiled.

"I'd like that."

You grabbed Matt's phone that he passed to you and typed in your name and phone number before handing it back to him.

"Hope to see you soon, Mr. Murdock." You smirked.

"Same to you."

Matt messaged you that same night, sending you a beautifully crafted congradulations message about the performance. Then, within the minute, asked when you were free.

You both set up a date for the next week, choosing to go to a new restaurant you both had never been to before.

---

The night of the date, you got ready, and started to head for the restaurant, seeing Matt on the opposite street corner, crossing to meet him.

"Matt. Hi." You said, trying not to startle him.

"Hi. It's good to see you. We're close to the restaurant, right? Sometimes I miss count my blocks." He joked.

"Allow me to escort you." You touched his arm, allowing him to use you as a lead.

When you got to the door, he opened it for you, allowing you to walk inside. At the host stand, Matt spoke.

"Two for 8. Under Murdock." He shuffled, folding his cane away.

"Yes, of course. Follow me." The host said.

Matt reached for your arm again, and you walked to the table.

Once the host brought waters, Matt took a sip and then sat back into his seat.

"Your show really was great. I really appreciated your choice of Haydn's Cello Concerto No. 1. A classic, but not played much anymore." Matt started.

"Well thank you. It was once of the first cello features I got to play in high school. Fell in love with it immediately and wanted to honor that memory here." You smiled.

You bantered the whole night, starting the discussion with mentions of the show and classical music as a whole, but eventually making your way to childhood.

"DId you play any instruments as a kid, Matt?" You asked.

"Didn't have the chance to. Came from an athletic family, and then the church didn't have anything but the organ. I've played a bit of guitar, but just the basics. Foggy taught me during law school." He laughed.

"Maybe you should show me some of your skills. That is if you still have that guitar."

"I think if I touched a guitar now I'd start on fire. I prefer to admire the music, not create it myself."

"I think that's fair. I mean, without music appreciators like you, I wouldn't have an audience." You said.

Once you both had finished your meal, you helped escort Matt through the maze of tables and out onto the New York street.

"I've had a really great time tonight." You said.

"I did, too. There's a jazz trio show around here next week. Would you like to join me?" Matt asked.

"I would. I don't get to hear much jazz, so I think that's a great idea. I'll see you then, Matt."

"Let me know when you get home safe." Matt said, unfolding his cane.

"I will. See you soon."

---

That next week you met Matt at the cocktail bar for the jazz trio. He was already sat at a table when you got there, nursing a bourbon.

"Hi! Hope I'm not late." You said, sitting down.

"Just in time. They go on in a few minutes. What would you like to drink? I can order for you at the bar." Matt asked.

"A vodka martini please."

"You got it."

He stood and ordered at the bar, bringing back your drink.

"Do you come here often? It's really nice in here." You looked around.

"I do. One of my favorite nicer places. Got an espresso martini here once and kept coming back. Not every cocktail bar can pour an espresso shot as good as here." He chuckled.

The band entered the stage, adjusting the seats and mics before introducing themselves and starting the set.

Between song, Matt would talk to you about the music, telling you about his favorite jazz musicians and other lore that he found important to the show.

"I've heard these guys play before, and let me tell you their bass player, off the charts. Can't top him. Can't listen to the original version of that last song since him."

After the set, Matt took both of your glasses to the bar, and walked outside with you.

"Thank you for inviting me. I had a really nice time. I love hearing your insights into music. It's like you're breathing fresh air into everything." You blushed.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed the show and the bar. Do you need to get back, or would you like to walk for a bit?"

"I'd love to walk."

"Or we could go get late night ice cream." Matt suggested.

"I think you're a genious."

Matt grabbed your arm again, but this time he led, taking you to his favorite late night ice cream spot.

You looked at the menu and decided, allowing Matt to order first.

"I'll take two scoops of pistachio in a cup." He smiled, allowing you to get closer to the counter to speak.

"I'll have two scoops as well. One white chocolate and one cotton candy." You said.

When they finished scooping your orders, you grabbed both bowls and joined Matt at the picnic table outside.

"A pistachio guy, hmmm. I'm learning a lot." You teased.

"White chocolate and cotton candy. Says a lot about you, too."

"Oh and what does that say?" You joked.

"That you're fun loving and adventurous. You've never been here before and you got two non-typical flavors. You're not scared of change." He attemped to appear serious in his attempt at reading you but continued to smile and giggle as he spoke. "What does pistachio say about me?"

"That you're a weirdo that likes pistachio ice cream." You laughed.

"You got me there."

You both fell into a pit of giggles, trying to catch your breath before laughing again.

"My cheeks hurt. Stop it." You continued laughing.

Once you were both done, you tossed both bowls and spoons, Matt standing beside you.

"Can I walk you home?"

"I'd like that."

"Lead the way captain." Matt ironically saluted.

He took your arm again and you started wlaking the few blocks back. Since the date had started, you don't think there had been a moment of silence besides during the jazz set. It was magical just how well you both got along.

Once you got to the stoop of your apartment you unlached Matt's arm.

"Thank you again for tonight. I had a really good time." You said.

"I really like going out with you." Matt agreed.

There was a minute of silence: you looking at Matt, and Matt fidgetting with his cane.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked.

"Please."

He leaned in, placing his hand on your cheek, and kissed you.

It only lasted a few seconds, but you were seeing stars. When he pulled away, he kept his hand on your cheek, smiling at you.

"Wow." He spoke.

"Wow." You repeated.

"You should get inside, it's getting cold." He said, blushed again.

You leaned in to kiss him once more and put your hand on his cheek this time.

You walked up a few steps of the stoop before turning back.

"Let me know when you get home safe."

"Will go." He smirked.

[monakisu]

I want you to know that I came across a random post of your Death Note art, went "Awww, oh my gosh, with the way this person draws Light I think Akechi would look fantastic in the same style!", clicked onto your profile, and then saw your newest artwork was Akechi. I'm still kind of cackling over it and thought maybe you'd find it funny too. Your art is SO cute, I'm very happy I found it <333

HAHA THAT’S AMAZING (<< was an akechi artist wayyyy before i fell head over heels for light)

but rlly… theyre so similar:

- brunet

- asshole

- pretty boy

- mass murderer

- black-haired homoerotic rival

at the end of the day, the key difference is one is a top and the other is a bottom.

ok but seriously, they’re vastly different characters on a fundamental level:

- light was handed everything him on a silver platter: family, friends, looks, intellect, a comfortable life… as a bastard child of a sex worker and now an orphan, goro had to fight his way to his current position and will always harbor a terrible sense of inferiority (light is completely confident in his absolute superiority, Always (that’s why the challenge of L sent him off the deep end of obsession lol))

- light genuinely sees himself as a hero, while goro would like to feel the same but is nonetheless depressingly aware of his villain’s journey (his undesirable position as the detective vs the underdog phantom thieves, his string of assassinations, his ultimate dirty bloody goal, etc.).

- light’s motive is about the world’s salvation, cleansing, the birth of his ideal reality (very messianic of him with the slightest loving tinge of mary cradling her lamb hahaha) while goro is laser-focused on ruining this one asshole’s life in particular, vengeance and revenge at once! one’s focused on rebirth, and the other gunning straight for death! they both use murder to get what they want but light probably floats around thinking himself so clean and divine as mother of the world (ignorance is bliss) while goro is constantly desperately trying to cover up his suspiciously red hands with his gloves hehehe… they’re both constantly striving for perfection, just with varying levels of self-awareness!!

- goro is a canonical loner; light has a horde of friends; this is probably due to a difference in public persona! goro is an untouchable idea of what he thinks a human should be and is completely out of the loop when it comes to normal social interactions (believes opening with hegel will instantly endear himself to the average person (luckily he inflicted that upon akira who is decidedly not average in the slightest)), light is implied to be more down-to-earth and even slightly goofy (he’s gaming decorum like an advanced speedrunner)! it’s probably good how distant goro is, because getting any closer to him will allow you to see how off-putting and uncanny he is, sorta like an AI-generated image—seams in the wrong places and far too much teeth LOL. meanwhile light has this whole shebang so thoroughly figured out that he’s BORED with it all! he’d like to move on to the next game (with L), thank you!! light definitely still exudes uncanny creepiness (it’s his natural state of being) especially when he zones out or starts hysterically cackling out of nowhere at his own thoughts, but he’s a hundred times better at masking compared to goro due to a better upbringing. goro is starved for the adoring friends he sees akira easily picking up one after another; light couldn’t give less of a shit because he’s always had those trivial luxuries! he’d much rather prefer an adoring WORLD!!

- then there’s the difference in how they die… one started out surrounded with company but ultimately died alone, while it’s the opposite for the other (if you count the de-realization of maruki’s reality as goro’s “death” (which i don’t)).

- in conclusion, light and goro are like funhouse mirror reflections of each other!!! one is a pampered lapdog getting a taste of rabies and letting loose, while the other is a starving wolf trying to domesticate itself for treats and headpats!! and i <3 them both!!!!!

anyways i may be wrong about light because im going purely off of fics, tumblr shitposts, and my own imagination :] feel free to school me in a way that won’t destroy my delusions!

[poppy-metal]

https://pin.it/3uN5FPAAM

https://pin.it/4AU0Gvdat

can’t even convey how badly i need to be this tashi’s personal assistant/friend/confidant/? that’s always with her but people just can’t figure out your relation to her besides the fact that she’s always smiling/keeled over laughing when the two of you are together. maybe your patrick’s new wife and it’s chalked up to just a proximity thing, it’s easier for her to like you than be annoyed at your presence because it’s not like you’re going anywhere, her being married to his best friend and all. there isn’t really an explanation for why people zoom in on your lockscreen and find that it’s a photo of her that hasn’t been posted publicly.

she’s never been a rude woman, but she was noticeably closed off, drawing firm lines in what she was willing to talk about that never included her personal life. now she’s asking about people’s weekends, recounting her own with you and the plans the two of you have coming up, double + one-on-one dates that seem a little too romantic. maybe you’re the youngest of the 4, a nepo baby it girl with no set plans, no goals besides being hot and being a little chaotic. you manage to wrangle tashi into jewelry campaigns and get her to be the face of some clothing brand, keep her name alive and revive her career in a way entirely separate from tennis. let everyone know that you think she’s the most beautiful and deserving woman alive. you even convince her to take an extended vacation, a month just the 2 of you. you get caught one night after drinks, a blurry make out sold to tabloids. she plans to go scorched earth until she catches you smiling at the photo…decides it can’t be that bad.

i like imaging being her low stress private gf BUT if you wanted to make it angsty u could play up the fact that because you were born into money you’ve never really had to work for anything and don’t get that you will always be second to work in tashi’s life. it’s nothing personal, she’s just not the kind of girl to throw it all away for love. especially one that would bring questions and speculation and explanations to her family. maybe that pushes your own little insecurity button because no one’s ever wanted to- or HAD to hide you. leaves you feeling unimportant. like it all meant nothing, just a stop on the way to her. leads to the two of you butting heads one too many times, having a massive relationship ending fight. she makes it sound like she thinks so little of you, little rich girl that doesn’t know what real work is. doesn’t realize what it takes to run a family. HER family. she can’t believe how immature you are, liking tweets about “how historians will say you were good friends” (rip public likes), and with that you turn your heel, hellbent on making her feel just as shitty as she made you feel. and thus starts the PR war, taking digs and snippy comments at each other any chance you get. you call her a career obsessed psycho, she calls you a fame whore. you date the people you used to talk shit about with her. she sabotages brand deals. there’s a blurry paparazzi shot of her crying in the street comforted by art and clearly both unaware that they’re being photographed. you start partying harder to avoid the regret that’s creeping in. one night you happen to look up and see art standing there, making a quick appearance at some event neither of you could care less about. you and him had a great repartee before it all went down, he was a great sport about you getting his wife in bed and joined in a few times. for whatever reason you thought maybe that would keep going on, grinning and making your way over to him until you register how cold his eyes are, jaw set. one shake of his head is all it takes for you to leave the party in tears.

why did u stop there omg im invested,,,,,

these pictures of her.... tashi.....

i imagine you're someone she met naturally - maybe while she was getting coffee one day and a man was bothering you and she stepped in, it would be love at first sight essentially - for you, anyway - fluttering after her to ask if you can take her out, all hopeful. something about you intrigues tashi immediately - even when she purposely brings her hand up with her wedding band to push some of her hair back - she still agrees to a coffee date. maybe it'd be be nice to just talk to someone who isn't an assistant, or her husband, or a work associate -

neither of you expect how close you become. you're bubbly - someone tashi thinks she would have hated in high-school, seen as fake or whatever, but you're just.... like that. and you make her have fun when she's with you. when she comes over you make her these wild cocktails "saw this one on tiktok! look, its pink!!" and you make her dance with you to poppy music and it feels like those sleepovers she was always hearing about growing up, but never had time for. her life has always been about climbing to the top, working herself to the bone, and sure, thats not something you can relate to - but she appreciates the levity you bring to her life, regardless.

art notices how much lighter tashi is too, and a part of him is jealous, at first. tashi talks about you like you're a crush she has, like you're something special and that makes him feel.... something. but he doesn't have to feel in knots about it for long because its not long before tashi is inviting you to stay and their place - introducing you to her husband and her daughter - and art cant possibly be angry at someone who makes tashi smile like that.

although he does ask, later that night, when he and tashi are getting ready for bed - tashi had finally returned from setting you up in your own room - if tashi was into you. as a joke, mostly, but also not. and tashi had paused from fluffing her pillow and appeared to really think about it. "would it be a problem if i was?" is that she settles on. and art thinks about it. theres definitely something that gives him comfort that its not another man in his home that tashi has feelings for, even if that's misogynistic to think.

"i dont know." he says honesty. "would you leave me for her?"

and tashi laughs. no, she wouldn't. and if it did turn anything with you, she wouldn't exclude art. "i saw you check out her ass," tashi says, "and i saw her check out your dickprint. sweats, dear. we can all see."

and that's that conversation settled.

its not long after that that sex is introduced into your friendship. and for some time, its perfect. its easy - you go on these little dates and mini vacations and you stay over at her house more and more - in her and arts marriage bed, more and more - because art is an extension of tashi - you come to love him too, want him too, need him too.

but you were raised to have what you want when you want it. you get greedy. you want more of her time, their time - you start rolling her eyes when she tells you she cant come to see you because she has a dinner with art with these tennis executives and you start to zone out because you've never really understood sports and its become a sore spot. a way tashi and her husband connect, such a fundamental part of who they are and what they're built upon and you just..... dont get it. in the early days you liked to listen to her talk about it, but now you kind of hate it. it feels like a rival. a glaring reminder you're lesser than something and that's a feeling you dont like.

born rich and having people always falling over themselves to give you attention - tashi was like a breath of fresh air. she had as much money as you currently, but she wasn't born with it. she worked for it, and that made her have a realness to her you couldn't find in your real life. fake love, fake friendships, even your family is fucking fake - but tashi and art - they brought something tangible into your life, something that wasn't easy.

tashi treated you like a brat during sex - and she the tamer - and it opened your eyes to a whole new world. you loved working for her approval, because it could never be earned by throwing your money at her, it came from giving a part of yourself up and eventually that became too scary to deal with when you weren't sure if you were even permanent in her life.

tashi was never good with words and you lived for them and this eventually lead to your downfall - the breakup of the century - and its the worst heartbreak you've ever known because the only real and genuine thing in your life is gone, because she'd rather fuck a tennis racket for the rest of her life than truly build a life with you in it (at least that's how you see it)

and it hurts even worse because you lose art and lily too. lily who felt like a little niece to you. who always cheered when she saw you like you were someone cool just for existing. who you could watch all the barbie movies with and you didn't have to pretend like they weren't your favorite movies to watch.

and art.... who'd become a strange kind of friend... and boyfriend? over the years along with tashi. where tashi was ironclad art was mellow and soft and you could talk to him for hours about things you both were oddly passionate about. and he was a wonderful kisser. sex with him felt amazing. it was even better when it was all three of you, you didn't feel like some rich spoiled airhead between them, you felt like you were just a person that was well taken care of.

you dont handle the breakup well at all. tashi and art had always been more closed off than you - more quiet with their deep seeded feelings... while you were loud and screamed how upset you were from the top of your lungs. you were downright nasty about it to publicity.

no shade, full names said. trash talking boldly. calling tashi a tyrannical workaholic robot and how it was a nightmare to be her friend, and how you didn't know she was capable of warm feelings. you poked fun at art for being a lapdog and being walked like a pooch by his wife. (nevermind the fact you'd been the one to wear a collar in the bedroom)

its mean and childish and resentful and you're a bleeding wound and you wait for tashi's rebuttal. but whenever you're brought up, or something you said is brought to her attention, its met with cool dispassion. on both her and arts side. they skate over it, give a short and precise response thats somehow crueler than anything you could ever say in its simplicity, "if talking about me and my family is how she needs to heal, then she's more than welcome to it... what im focused on is..." and then she'd go into her next business venture with her husband.

it made your blood boil. it made you hurt even worse. it made you feel like you were nothing.

what you dont see is the dark circles under tashi's eyes every morning she has to brush concealer over. how sometimes the things you say sting so deep she throws her phone across the room and has to buy a new one. how very rarely she'll break down and let art hold her and she'll ask if she really is a cold unloving robot and art will tell her that shes not, that her love is different but its still real and genuine and he'll try to be a strong pillar for her but inside he wants to seek you out and find you, shake you and throttle you and tell you you're so fucking selfish and stupid because how could you not see tashi loved you? that he did too? how could you not feel it? how could you say the things you say about her, about him, when they'd let you into their bed and into their home and opened themselves up to you.

they weren't the most open people - and maybe that was something they needed to work on - but they'd been the most vulnerable they'd ever been with you. and you took their love and spit on it and said it wasn't shiny enough a rock for you.

it fucking sucked. he hated you for it. if he ever saw you in person he thought he might lose his temper.

you were starting to hate yourself too. why couldn't you be enough? why did you always want more? it definitely had nothing to do with growing up with no genuine love in your life, barely there parents, friends who only talked to you for your money, partners who always cheated on you once your sparkly quality wore off or someone even more sparkly came along. definitely had nothing to do with constantly being told you're vapid and artificial and have no substance to you and having the first people in your life treat you like you have value beyond your net worth - feel distant from you in a way you cant reach - is it any wonder you panicked?

perhaps you should have communicated better. perhaps you should have sat down and talked to them and asked how to be more a part of their life, perhaps you should have asked them to teach you more about tennis instead of growing resentful of it.

but those were things a well rounded mentally stable adult would do. of which, you are not.

at least they have eachother to fall back on.

maybe its time you got married too.

[bengiyo]

An Apology to The Miracle of Teddy Bear

I finally caught up with a show that was inaccessible for a long time, and also bogged down in bad-faith fan reporting, at the insistence of @lurkingshan, @twig-tea, and later @wen-kexing-apologist. A few months ago, Shan and Twig wrote about how The Miracle of Teddy Bear Saved the Gays to push back on the false narrative that the show buried the gays and forced the lead to marry a woman, and also about how it contains incisive social commentary about a Thai gay man. I won't reiterate what they said in their excellent essay, but I do want to pick up from my Apology to Ossan's Love and The Novelist to talk about going back for shows you missed.

When this show first began airing in the spring of 2022, it was completely inaccessible in the West. I remember seeing rumors at the time that the show was withheld from international distribution due to its critical themes about Thai society, and I was curious about how a show about how a guy falls in love with his teddy bear that comes to life could be causing such consternation. After the show ended, I also remember seeing discontented commentary about the end of the show's ending that turned out to be patently false.

Now that I've actually seen the show, I want to briefly gush about the things I loved in this show.

Job Thuchapon Imbues Nut With A Complex Humanity Rarely Afforded Gay Characters in the BL Sphere

As I was finishing the show last night, I commented to my friends that Job might be one of the most beautiful people I've encountered in Thai queer media, and I think it's because his performance as Nut feels recognizably human. I'm convinced it's because this was a drama with humanist goals that was able to avoid prioritizing romance as its key outcome. As such, Nut becomes one of the best expressions of the traumatized artist trying to do something with his pain in his art that I've ever been blessed to see.

Nut is dealing with intense family trauma from his father's homophobia, his mother's silence and impotence on the matter, and the social circumstances around his life. He's a man with deep anger at his mom and father, who is also tasked with being the breadwinner for his household because his mom is mentally ill. Moreover, his hateful aunt lives next door to only make their lives worse. Nut is an extremely lonely but talented writer who wants to make something more than a standard BL prioritizing romance, cuteness, and product placement.

Most importantly for me, Nut is so unabashedly gay in a way that I also found extremely believable. He's the kind of gay that's not exactly hiding who he is, but isn't going to go out of his way to blast it to everyone. He's not afraid to hold a man's hand in public, but he's also just going to ignore the female coworker who can't take a hint. On top of that, the gays have sex in this show! The show uses so many useful tools to show us that Nut and Tofu have sex without needing to do a lot of bed scenes. I deeply appreciated this.

Inn Sarin Makes The Teddy Bear Role Into a Meaningful Exploration of the Nature of Humanity and Kindness

I originally worried that Inn was here just to be beautiful (he is), and that his character would just be a joke (it most certainly wasn't). Instead, what I got was a character whose innocence allowed us as viewers to explore some heavy moral dilemmas that a simple view of human nature could not accommodate. By the end of the show I was screaming into the chat that "He's only a bear!" because none of the problems he faced were simple.

Tofu, through his interactions with the other inanimate objects in the house experiences incredibly growth over the show, and learns that loving a human as a human is far more complicated than loving them as a teddy bear. He's faced with difficult challenges around Nut's mom's health issues, Nut's family troubles, and even his own jealousy of Nut's childhood love. Inn's affect as Tofu matures as Tofu becomes more familiar with human nuance, which is contrasted so well by the flashbacks with his dead human doppelganger.

This Show Completed Every Thread it Established

This may not seem like an important thing to highlight, but it's so rare for shows to actually do this, especially when they're this complex. I have massive respect for screenwriter Prapt and the team around him, because it's so rare that I enjoy a final episode of a Thai drama. I was openly weeping at the resolution of a thread I thought was forgotten in the finale.

This show had much to say about speaking truth to power, and how the powerful wield death as a weapon. It had much to say about how internalized homophobia expresses in gay men in different ways. It took its mental health themes seriously. It also humanized its villains in a way that makes them some of cruelest I've seen on screen in a long time. It also shows how important community support systems are, especially the role elder gays play in your life. Most importantly, I loved that this show didn't insist that everyone has to hang out and be friendly with everyone who ever hurt them, even if it values getting closure from much-needed apologies.

Conclusion: This Show Has Everything

This show really is something special, and I recommend going on YouTube and watching it. It's a long watch, but it's one of the most rewarding viewing experiences I've had from Thailand in the last decade. I'm also convinced that I have to take learning Thai more seriously, because if Prapt's writing is this tight, I have serious doubts about what we got from The Eclipse. Any Thai people following me, please let me know if you get around to reading the book The Eclipse is based on so you can talk to me about what you experienced from Prapt's pen directly.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 17

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: racist microagressions, boundary crossing, and people in positions of power being scum, cursing wc: 2.4k

A/N: chapter concept was suggested by @scared-reader 👻 so if you like it thank them for the inspiring ask in the comments! (and feel free to submit your own if you've got an idea for me, you never know what's going to set off the unhinged writing monster in my soul 😅 )

Chapter Selection

Damian was at my apartment again. He'd come over after school, and the look on his face suggested there was something weighing him down. I got him set up at the table to do his homework, knowing he wouldn't be ready to talk until he felt his responsibilities were complete, and ordered pizza. While he worked, I made my grandmother's brownies. 

An hour later we were sitting on the floor in front of my tv, eating pizza and brownies, drinking soda, and playing mindless video games. Between rounds, Damian finally spoke up; “... There's an art show for our parents at my school next week … Father couldn't make it last year, something came up at work.”

I frowned a bit; “That sucks! ... Well, I'm sure he'll make it this year, yeah?”

“... Probably not. It's a busy time of year for him...”

“That's not fair…”

“It is what it is.” On the surface he sounded nonchalant about it, but after months of getting to know each other I was starting to catch the subtleties of his mannerisms and tones. And when he said ‘it is what it is' I heard, clear as day, the ache of unexpressed sorrow; the kind of sorrow that makes you feel selfish and cruel for caring at all over something so seemingly trivial.

“... Well, I know I'm not a parent, but I am an adult in your life who loves … your art. Think they'd let me come?”

“... You want to come?” he didn't even try to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Of course, if you're ok with it. … I remember how disappointing it was when my parents didn't come to my after school stuff. … Felt like I was the only kid in the room without an adult gushing over my work. I knew they were proud of me, they were just busy, but … I wanted my interests to be their priority for just a few hours. It hurt, seeing everyone else's adults make time for them when mine couldn't, and I don't want you to have to go through that too. So if you're comfortable with it I would be honored to get to go to your art show!”

Damian blinked a few times, looking down into his lap, and nodded. “... Ok. … Yeah, you … you can come. … It's Friday after school, from 4-6.” His voice came out a bit sharper than usual, like he was fighting to get the words out at all.

I smiled gently, pulling out my phone. “It's going right in my calendar. Will you already be there?” He nodded. “Perfect, … can Jace come too, or should I take the bus?”

Damian considered for a minute. “.... I suppose Todd can come. … It would be difficult to use the city bus to get to my school…”

I nodded. “Thanks kiddo.”

He opened his mouth, frowning slightly; “... I … why do you keep calling me that?”

I cringed slightly; “Sorry Damian, I keep forgetting you don't like it. I like to give people affectionate nicknames, it’s sort of second nature at this point I guess. I'll do better, I promise.”

“... No, it … it's ok, you don't have to stop. … I'm still not Dami though.”

I grinned, nodding. “You got it, kiddo.” Right, only Jon gets to call him Dami.

He nodded once, smiling a little.

Tears filled my eyes. The lump in my throat made it incredibly difficult to speak, but I had to say something; he was staring up at me with those big, guarded eyes, waiting for my response. “... Damian, it's-”

“Perfect…” Jason's arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me against his chest.

Damian's section of the art show was filled with portraits of his family and friends. And right in the center, on one of the biggest canvases I'd seen outside of a museum, was a painting of the three of us on my couch; me and Damian facing each other with Jason in the middle, his hand on my knees, just like the time they'd spent the night. The casual intimacy of our poses and easy smiles on our faces were like a dream for the future, laid bare in front of us.

It wasn't as easy as the painting made it look, not yet, but maybe someday it would be.

I nodded, agreeing with Jason; “it's beautiful~ you're so talented! … is … is that really how you see me?”

Damian hadn't made me smaller; I was still round and soft in his painting, but instead of feeling insecure the portrait made me feel beautiful. The delicate, sweeping brush strokes that made up my body exuded warmth and tenderness. I wasn't entirely sure if it was my love for him that he'd seen and captured in the paint, or his own affection for me, but it was there on the canvas for all to see.

He tilted his head; “... I don't understand? That is what you look like.”

“Yeah, but … Damian, in a culture that teaches women that being big is bad, making a fat girl feel beautiful in her fatness is like the artistic equivalent of finding Bigfoot - there are people who say they have, but who actually believes them?” I smiled softly, looking into his confused eyes; “you’ve made me feel beautiful, Damian. … Thank you.”

Jason hugged me tighter, kissing my shoulder; “... good job, demon brat~”

Damian flushed a bit, obviously pleased, and for a moment it looked like he was going to say something, but before he could, a tall woman came up behind him. She smiled warmly, looking at me; “ah, you must be the panther tamer!”

Damian's entire demeanor changed in an instant, closing in on himself. I frowned, looking up at her; “excuse me? … Who are you?”

The woman ruffled Damian's hair, either not noticing or not caring about his grimace or minuscule flinch as she made contact; “I’m Mrs. Webster, Damian's math teacher! It's a miracle; ever since you've come into his life, our little wild cat here has finally retracted his claws! Finally dropping some of those nasty habits of his. I don't know what you're doing with him, but keep up the good work!”

“... So you did just say what I thought you said. … Ok, bet.” I pushed Jason's arms off me and stepped forward until she stumbled back, making sure I ended up between her and Damian. “First of all; don't ever touch him again. Anyone with two brain cells can tell he doesn't like it.”

She stuttered, stepping back more; “ah! It was just a hair ruffle-”

“Don't. Ever. Touch him. Secondly, he is a person, he's not a wild animal that needs to be tamed. What on earth makes you think that's an appropriate thing to say about one of your students?”

“Hey now! I just meant that his behavior has gotten better, it's a compliment!”

I continued to walk toward her, slowly backing her into a corner. “Shut. The fuck. Up. You were not complimenting him; you were othering him. He is a child in a foreign country with foreign, often contradictory culture; since coming here he has had to relearn everything about how life works and what's expected of him, and he has had to do it using English, one of the most obnoxious languages to learn, and probably the fourth or even fifth one he knows. He is expected to gracefully fold himself into an American household, go to an American school, and follow American customs; nothing in his life would have prepared him for any of that, but he has done it all, and he's done it while living under intense media scrutiny because of his family name. And on top of all that, he's also making all these life changes during one of the hardest parts of a person's development. He works hard every single day to navigate this life, often doing things he hates because they're expected of him, all for your comfort. Is it so much to ask that his teachers treat him with some basic fucking respect?”

She frowned, trying to interrupt me; “I was just-”

“No, I'm talking, that means you shut your mouth. That boy, that brilliant, brave, kind young man was ripped from the life he knew, the good and the bad in it, sent away from his family and friends, to a supposed land of freedom and safety, and when he gets here he has to deal with mediocre minds like yours calling him an animal and praising the people who care about him for their ‘good work' with him? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

I have done no work here; it is not work to meet him where he's at. It is not work to love that boy in whatever ways he's ready to accept. And it is certainly not work to treat him with respect. That is the bare fucking minimum. It is a joy and a pleasure to get to know him; he is a remarkable young man. On his worst day he is a better person than you are on your best. He is compassionate, and patient, and he is a good kid. How fucking dare you talk about him like there's something wrong with him being just the way he is? Who the hell do you think you are? What kind of racist shit-”

“Hey now! I am not racist!”

The side of my fist made contact with the stone wall above her head. I took a deep breath, growling softly; “tell yourself whatever you need to. But you are going to keep a few things in mind going forward. Number one; anything you say or do to Damian will get back to me. Number two;” I smirked, chuckling darkly; “I am not afraid of jail time. So, for everyone's best interest; you will respect his boundaries, and you will think before you open your ignorant mouth. Because if I find out that you or anyone in this school has more inconsiderate, racist ass bullshit to say about my kid, I will be back. And from that day on, you will not know a moment of peace. Have I made myself clear, Mrs. Webster?”

She nodded quickly, eyes wide with fear, and I gave her the most condescending smirk I could before spinning on my heel to return to my boys. I only made it a few steps before Damian ran straight into me, arms wrapped tightly around my waist. His face buried into my chest, and his shoulders were shaking. I was almost pushed back by the force of him throwing himself at me, but I managed to stay standing. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, one hand gently cupping his head, the other stroking his back.

We stood like that for a long while. I wasn't going to pull away first; this was the first time I'd seen Damian initiate physical contact with anyone, and I was not about to give him any reason to believe it had to stop before he was ready. He could have as much as he wanted for as long as he wanted it.

I looked up at Jason over Damian's head; I thought he looked a bit proud, leaning against the wall to watch us. He gestured to me that he was heading out of the room but would be back soon and I nodded, just continuing to hold the shaking boy in my arms. I ran my fingers through his hair gently, hoping it would soothe him, “... I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Damian…”

He shook his head, slowly releasing me. He didn't look up, but I could tell from the wet spot above my heart that he had been crying. “... Can we go home?”

“Yeah, kiddo. Let's get you home.”

“No, I mean … your home?”

“Oh, yeah, you can spend the night at mine. You can spend the whole weekend if you want. … I'll tell your dad for you, if you want?”

He nodded, slowly taking my hand. “... Can we stop at the manor, so I can get a few things and feed my pets?”

“Of course we can.” I smiled softly, gently squeezing his hand, and led him out of the auditorium to find Jason.

Jay met us at the front office. “You're being swapped into Mr. Desantis's math class, Damian.”

Damian nodded, staring at the floor in front of him. “... Thank you.”

Jason nodded, looking at our hands; “... We ready to go?”

“Yeah. We're gonna stop at the manor so Damian can get some stuff, and then we'll all head home.”

Jason nodded, letting us lead the way. He walked behind Damian and over a bit, so the youngest Wayne was flanked by us. Damian watched his feet as we made our way to the car, smiling just a little. “... Are you really going to return if I tell you my teachers are still saying those things about me?”

I stopped next to the car, falling to one knee in front of him, and gently squeezed Damian's hands. His vibrant green eyes slowly met mine, and I had to bite back the rage boiling in my chest; he looked so fragile, like he expected me to say ‘no, you don't deserve it, take care of yourself'. “... Damian, if anyone says or does anything to make you feel inferior, I want you to tell them that you are not required to accept their mistreatment, and walk away. Then you call me. If I don't pick up it'll be because I'm still asleep or at work, you text me and then you call Jay, he will come get me, and we will come for you. Ok?”

“... You'd leave work?”

“... I feel like that's not as impressive as the fact that I'm willing to lose sleep over this, but yes; you are more important than work. I can easily get another job, what I can't and won't do is make you face their shit alone.”

He nodded slowly. “... Father said I'm not supposed to misbehave at school … We have the public eye on us…”

Jay growled softly; “I am certain that he didn't mean for you to accept that kind of bullshit from inferior minds. And if he did, he can take it up with me. You do not have to accept their cruelty. Not ever.”

Damian looked up at Jason slowly, nodding. “... Really?”

“Really.”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men

[grandeoatmilklatte]

Fellow oat-and-omi-lover,

I have a request. It's loosely thought out and entirely up to you for interpretation.

But basically, I'd love to see a very touch-starved Ominis (you know, never been hugged or kissed in his family, the other students are wary of him, his only touchy friend was Sebastian and that's gotten tense recently) with a touch-shy MC.

Ominis is so tactile, and his main experience with close friends (the twins) is something MC is just... incredibly skittish about for whatever reason. Like he grew up having them grab his hand or sling an arm around his shoulder or greeted him with hugs, and now he's just got this singular friend available to him and there's so much adjustment on both sides???

He takes their hand to show them something, and they just freeze or startle or something? And somehow, this is reconciled? I'm a sucker for romance as well.

I DON'T KNOW!

Basically touchy Omi and big personal space bubble MC in whatever capacity strikes you.

Maybe.

If you want!

I love you, and thank you for reading my request. 😭💖

@applinsandoranges my love!! I tweaked your idea a bit and turned touchy Omi and touch nervous MC into a brand new couple and made this short little one shot from there! I hope I made you proud!

Getting To Know You In A New Way ❤️ - (Ominis Gaunt x F!MC)

Warnings: Fluff! || Slight NSFW (brief mention of touching) || mention of Sebastian slipping Ominis some liquid courage potion to ask a girl out || characters are 18 and in their seventh year || implications of trauma || aversion to touch || some negative self talk from MC || (1346 words)

Ominis loved everything about his girlfriend. He loved her from the moment he met her in fifth year, long before she even was his girlfriend. Her kind and gentle nature towards him, despite his lineage, and her alignment with wanting to pull Sebastian away from the Dark Arts drew him to her. As time went on, his love for her only grew stronger, reaching a peak during the first week of their seventh year. After being slipped some liquid courage in his morning tea, courtesy of Sebastian, the boy confessed his feelings for the girl, feelings which were thankfully returned by her. After years of pining, they were finally a couple, and he loved everything about her. But there was one small problem.

Early on in the relationship, Ominis discovered she had a severe aversion to being touched, something he somehow never picked up on in their time as friends. Her aversion was so severe that he wasn’t even allowed to hold her hand for more than a few minutes before she’d pull away, although she did allow him to kiss her, but only with brief pecks on her lips. 

It wasn’t a matter of her being ashamed of Ominis, this theory being easily debunked by the way she gushed about “my boyfriend, Omins” to anyone who would listen, their frequent dates, and her general love of being in his presence. She was just exclusively afraid of physical contact. Ominis never pushed for an explanation, feeling like it was still too early in the relationship to do so. Although he knew from the early days of their friendship that she didn’t have the best upbringing, growing up in an unaffectionate home, something Ominis was all too familiar with. 

Her aversion to touch created some difficulties for Ominis, his own love language being physical touch. He was desperate to feel the skin he couldn’t see, to know her in a new way, and he cursed anyone and everything that hurt her in life that created this trauma response. But nevertheless, he accepted her fully, never pressuring her, or touching her without her consent, hoping that there would come a day where his love and support could heal her. 

—

It had been a particularly rough week for the two of them, having been partnered and assigned an enormous project for their History of Magic class. They had spent countless hours in the library working on this project, and were incredibly nervous about their grade, grades being exceptionally important in their final year of school. Upon receiving their project back, they refrained from checking their grade until they had a moment alone together in The Undercroft, wanting to either celebrate their passing grade together or wallow in sorrow at their failing grade together. When they opened their stack of parchments to see a passing score, she pulled Ominis into a rare, but absolutely welcomed embrace. Ominis inhaled deeply, the smell of her hair flooding his nose and making his heart flutter. He felt her body begin to pull away, wishing the moment could have been longer. But as soon as she pulled away, she leaned right back in, hands coming up to hold his face as she kissed him. 

When she didn’t immediately pull away, Ominis kissed her back, deepening the kiss, but reminding himself to keep his hands away from her. His mind was racing, reveling in the intimacy. But his thoughts were halted and his mind went completely blank when she slowly worked her tongue past his lips. Ominis had completely forgotten his note to self, bringing his hands to rest on her hips as his tongue mingled with hers. She let out a squeak against his lips, but continued to kiss him for another few seconds before she quickly pulled away from Ominis, breathing heavily as she caught her breath.

“I…I’m so sorry…” Her voice was small and sad, and it was clear to Ominis that she was on the verge of tears. He couldn’t make sense of her sadness, realizing that he should be the one apologizing, not her. 

“No, darling, I’m sorry. I know you don’t like to be touched. I got carried away. It won’t-”

“No. It’s not you, it's me. I’m sorry I’m such an awful girlfriend. My boyfriend can’t even hold me without me panicking.” she had begun to cry, Ominis hearing the breaks in her words. “You deserve better than me. I’m so sorry.”

Ominis’s body reacted almost involuntarily as he immediately pulled her into his arms. He stroked her hair as he spoke, his heart shattering at her words.

“You are not an awful girlfriend. At all. Please don’t ever say that again. I love you, and it hurts to hear you say such things about yourself. Come, sit with me.”

Ominis led her over to the sofa they had placed in the corner of The Undercroft some time ago. He took hold of her hands once they were seated and he continued. 

“I know physical touch is hard for you. You grew up in a loveless home. I did too. Physical touch made me feel vulnerable, as I imagine it does for you as well. It used to scare me too. But once I got to Hogwarts and found myself with friends who love me, affection was no longer scary. I don’t want you to be afraid of affection. I want to help you heal from your pain. I want you to realize that you are worthy of love, and I want to be the one to love you. And, if I’m being honest, I would love nothing more than to be able to touch you, to feel you, to know your entire body inside and out. But I can be patient until you’re ready. Your comfort matters more to me than anything.”

Her tears were falling even harder now, but they were no longer tears of sadness. “Oh Ominis! What did I do to deserve a boyfriend as kind and understanding as you? I know I haven’t made things easy for you. I know it’s hard to not be able to touch me, especially with you not being able to see. But I want to get over this fear I have. I want to overcome this trauma, and I want to do it with your help. I love you, Ominis.”

She pulled him into another kiss, this kiss being softer than the first. Without breaking the kiss, she moved Ominis’s hands so that they could be wrapped around her waist before bringing her own arms around his neck. He could feel the tension melting from her body as they kissed. Already she was welcoming the idea of a more physical relationship with him. 

In a move that took Ominis by surprise, she began to lay back on to the couch, pulling Ominis down with her until he was lying on top of her. He had a moment of panic, unsure what to do, but as she began to kiss him with more passion in this new position, Ominis became the one with the tension melting from his body, adjusting so that they were both lying comfortably on the couch. 

Ominis slowly ran his hands up and down her arms, familiarizing himself with her skin, goosebumps forming in the wake of his touch. He then brought his hand up, his fingertips grazing her neck, which earned himself a soft moan. Finally, his hand came up to her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. Reluctantly, he pulled his lips away from hers to catch his breath, his thumb still stroking her cheek.

“That wasn’t so bad!” she said breathlessly. “I think I really like it when you touch me. I can’t wait for you to touch me more!”

There was a hint of sultriness to her words, which sent a tingle through Ominis’s body. He ignored it, knowing that there would be plenty of time to touch her that way later. For now, he was excited to get to know the love of his life in a new way.

[ravens-two]

PAC: What's Beginning In Your Life?

This reading includes:

what's beginning in your life

what areas are being affected

synchronicities

The extended reading includes:

advice for this new phase of your life

what you should look out for

how to manifest these changes

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone.

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Queen of Wands, Chariot, Ace of Wands

"I know exactly what I want and who I wanna be" Oh no! - MARINA

what's beginning in your life

Pile 1, your life is getting full of fire! You're gaining confidence and passion for your life and work. You're working to overcome limitations and explore your limits, how far can you go, how much can you push? For some of you I see that this is actually related to exercise. Perhaps you're going to the gym to get in shape and test your own boundaries and inner strength. For others this is about work or school. You have a goal in mind and you're working towards it. You know that things won't just happen to you, they require work and sacrifice and you're willing to make it. I see that for a smaller number you this is specifically about turning a hobby into a career. This could be something that you're very passionate about, let's say that it's drawing for example, and you've always dreamed about doing it as career, but never had the opportunity. You're now seeing that you have more experience, more stability and perhaps an opportunity to make it work now.

You'll also be feeling more inspired. It can be literally when it comes to art or to your work. Solutions for work problems just seem to come to you more naturally for example. Or this can be more about the way you see life. Do you know how Ghibli movies romanticize life? That's the kind of vibe I get from this. Instead of seeing cooking dinner as a dull chore, you'll start seeing it as an opportunity to try new recipes and be creative - or an opportunity to show your friends/family how much you love them by cooking them a meal.

The other main thing that's changing is your confidence. You're no longer hiding behind masks. You have come to the realization that the best thing you can do - for yourself and others - is being yourself, so there's no use in pretending to be someone else. You are then cultivating the confidence you need to be a more genuine and vulnerable version of yourself. This is the key to confidence really. It's all about not being afraid of being vulnerable. You might actually want to read about anti-fragility it's a really interesting theory.

On the other side of this confidence there's also a bigger connection to your sexual side. You're becoming more comfortable in your sexuality and sexual expression. You're no longer as bothered about people's perception about you and so you don't mind wearing the clothes that really make you feel good, for example. I also see you becoming more flirty and confident in your social interactions.

most affected areas of your life:

work, career, school, motivation, drive, hobbies, self-confidence

synchronicities: peacock feathers, champagne, bubbles, satin, cats, blue and green, 444, clouds, clover, Leo

Check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 2

Moon, Fool, Three of Wands

"You don't have to be like everybody else/ You don't have to fit into the norm/ You are not here to conform" Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land - MARINA

what's beginning in your life

Hey pile 2! These lyrics from your song seem to really apply to your pile and your reading. You're someone that always has been a little different, always wanted different things and saw the world differently. Unfortunately, this isn't always that well received by the people around us, and so you've been trying to mold yourself into the person you think you're supposed to be. An oh pile 2 I'm feeling that a lot of you have this problem specifically when it comes to your parents. Did you choose your degree or job because it's what your parens wanted? You're very much a people pleaser, pile 2, but more in a sense that you do it to pacify the people around you. Well, the biggest change I see coming for you is that you're coming to the realization that you don't have to conform to what other people expect of you. Based on your circumstances this can be difficult in a multitude of ways, but believe me that you'll feel so much happier living a life that actually feels true to you.

Another thing that is beginning in your life is a period of exploration and better mental health. For those of you who struggle with their mental health or stress and anxieties, you're entering a better and more peaceful phase in your life. This time is going to be less stressful and you'll see a lot of improvement in your mental health. When it comes to exploration it ties in a bit with the last paragraph. I see you trying to get to know yourself better. This could be journaling, shadow work, trying new things, listening to new music, trying a new hobby, new relationships, etc. Basically you're starting a journey to find yourself. And to that I'll say that you'll only find yourself by diving deep within. You have to explore both the light and the dark and confront and accept both of these sides of you or this exploration will be superficial at best.

This could all be tied in for some of you, or for others only some parts may apply. Either way, I also see an exploration of spirituality. You might be religious or not, believe in the divine or not (there isn't a correct answer truthfully), but the reality is that spirituality is an important component of the human psyche. I think that you're asking yourself these hard questions. Does a god exist? Do I believe in the religion I grew up in? What happens after we die? What's our purpose here? What do I believe in? You might explore different religions or practices, like meditation or prayer for example. For some of you this will be an exploration of the esoteric as well. You might learn and try witchcraft, paganism or folk practices. In the end, this pile is all about self-exploration which is great honestly.

most affected areas of your life:

personal development, mental health, psychologically, self-esteem, spirituality

synchronicities: the sea, seam foam, Aphrodite, seashells, fantasy movies, blankets and rainy days, old cd's, bumblebees, wildflowers, Aquarius

Check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 3

World, Two of Cups, Five of Swords

"Gimme love, gimme dreams, gimme a good self-esteem/ Gimme good and pure, what you waiting for?" Blue - MARINA

what's beginning in your life

Pile 3 this is all about relationships and emotions. The first thing I'm getting is that you're reevaluating your relationships with others. Do the people around you love and respect you? Are these relationships fulfilling? Do people accept and respect your boundaries? And the other way around too. How are you in your relationships? Do you dedicate as much time and effort to these people/person as they do with you? Remember that it's always a two-way street. I feel like this might be motivated by a conflict in a close relationship that it will force you to reflect on these things. It might also be that you haven't been feeling that fulfilled in your relationships and it makes you want to investigate why this might be.

Another thing that you may be analyzing is if you should keep being friends with a certain person for example, even if your values/interests/lives are so different. What do you two get out of this relationship? It could be specifically about a relationship with a person that you've known for a long time, but now you two have changed so much that perhaps the relationship is slowly drifting apart.

With the Two of Cups here I do have to say that some of you might be getting into a new romantic relationship (or a partnership of some kind, including work). This could be someone that you met either recently or abroad and the people around you are a bit unsure about this person. They might think that this person is trying to steal you away, for some reason? Either way it feels that this new person is very different from the people currently in your life. For others of you, this could be more about reflecting what you want from a romantic relationship. Do you need it to be fulfilled? Are you happy in your current relationship? What do you think it's missing? What could you do to make it better?

Another thing that came up is that some of you might be traveling. For some reason I feel like this is a bigger stay, like spending weeks or months in another place and having to deal with the cultural differences that come with it. On the other hand, though, you also have to deal with the way that it will change you as well. When you get back you won't be exactly the same person that you were before. This time is really about finding people who get you, pile 3. I think that this will be the biggest conclusion for you.

most affected areas of your life: 

relationships, love life, partnerships, inner conflicts, goals

synchronicities: cherries, feathers, white roses, lions, 22:22, golden hour, tulips, weather vanes, cotton candy, linen, heart shaped sunglasses, Libra

Check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 4

Eight of Swords, Four of Swords, Seven of Cups

"Life is a game that the universe plays/ We are the pieces in a puzzle called fate/ Life takes its  time in its own fashion/ Emotions unfold like a superbloom in action" Highly Emotional People - MARINA

what's beginning in your life

Hey pile 4! The first thing I'm seeing for you is realizing that a lot of the limitations that you see in yourself/your life were placed by you. What I mean is that you'll realize that some of the things that have been holding you back weren't anywhere else but in your head. I think that some of you specifically struggle with what other people think about you, you might even struggle with social anxiety. But that's the thing that's changing right, you're realizing that these things are in your head. It's your brain that puts these fears and limitations in place and they have no actual base in the "real world". I see that others of you are dealing with excessive daydreaming, procrastination, anxiety, fears, and imposter syndrome. No matter what you achieve you always believe that deep down you don't really deserve it. Again, these thought patterns are changing for the better. These things will stop holding you back as much as before. I stress the not as much as before, because these things don't disappear from one day to the other. You need to do a lot of continuous work to make these changes.

Your pile is quite similar to pile 2, especially because it's much more focused on your internal world. The things that are beginning in your life is a time of self-development and inner change. You're getting a better understanding of who you are. I see that some of you are working with your inner child specifically. You might be honoring the things that you wanted to do and be when you were child, this could even include watching and reading the movies and books you loved as a child. This effort to connect with your inner child will be both very healing and help to get you know yourself better.

One very specific message that I get for this pile is that I think that you guys are the daydreamers. You're always making up stories in your head, little scenarios as a form of escapism from the problems in the real world. This could even come from your childhood - hence the inner child work. The problem is that sometimes you become disenchanted with the real world and you would rather live in an imaginary world. What I believe is changing here is your relationship with your whimsy. You'll find a better balance between daydreaming and actually living. Not only that but you'll stop trying to escape what you're living and you'll actually become more integrated and living more in the moment and actually feeling things. You might also turn to art (or something else) to channel your imagination.

most affected areas of your life:

inner world, psychologically, self-development, personal changes, spirituality, inner change

synchronicities: Tolstoy, Tolkien, Chronicles of Narnia, ents, lions, yellow, gold, old books, moths, Ghibli Movies, moss, Pisces

Check out the extended reading on patreon

[windbelle]

Perhaps Astarion looks like Cazador's friend

I have seen a lot of people headcanon Astarion looks like Cazador's former master Vellioth, which does make a lot of sense. However, I've always had another headcanon:

Perhaps Astarion looks like that friend of Cazador who was drained and killed by Vellioth.

Here are my thoughts:

In the 5e DnD Monster Manual, vampires have the nature of Dark Desire, and it says "Whether or not a vampire retains any memories from its former life, its emotional attachments wither as once-pure feelings become twisted by undeath. Love turns into hungry obsession, while friendship becomes bitter jealousy. In place of emotion, vampires pursue physical symbols of what they crave, so that a vampire seeking love might fixate on a young beauty. A child might become an object of fascination for a vampire obsessed with youth and potential. Others surround themselves with art, books, or sinister items such as torture devices or trophies from creatures they have killed."

And it seems evil aligned creatures in lore always see friendship as vulnerability and weakness. Vellioth punished Cazador for his connection to his friend by draining this friend to death, and taught Cazador to never let anyone be his equal. This friend must be really special to Cazador to lead to Vellioth doing this.

We know that Cazador is a pretty good student for Vellioth's lessons. He learned the lesson and killed Vellioth. And he's begun to see the friendship he once possessed as his vulnerability and weakness. He probably hated being punished by Vellioth for his vulnerability and he wanted to vanquish his weakness by torturing someone who could serve as a symbol of his vulnerability, someone who looks like his friend.

He might still have some special emotion, even some kind of love, towards his dead friend but his dark desire has turned his emotion into hungry obsession. So, when he saw Astarion, who looked a lot like his friend, Cazador couldn't help being attracted to Astarion but also he wanted just to possess him, belittle him, and torture him.

That explains why Cazador has this special favoritism towards Astarion in terms of torture and punishment. In fact, I somehow believe that Cazador chose all his spawns because he had some affection towards them all. But his feelings are totally twisted so that he would torture them and use them, while insisting they are a family.

I don't know whether it's true that Cazador sent the Gur to attack Astarion, but I think he did savor the moment when he turned Astarion because he now had the power to "save" him from death, and to turn him into his own possession.

His torture is not merely some sadistic hobby but quite calculated and cold according to his journal. It's only when Astarion got away that he showed emotion. It seems like he was subconsciously training Astarion as a potential successor, just like Vellioth taught him and trained him to be the vampire master of the Szarr family.

This reminds me of the 5e DND module "Curse of Strahd". In "Curse of Strahd" if you role play as Strahd, he has an objective to find a successor, because he thinks if he can find a successor to replace him then he can get rid of the eternal curse and get his freedom.

After you defeat Cazador without Astarion you can detect his thoughts, and you will find that he also thinks he is forever trapped in this immortal curse. He cannot rest and he's in grief. He wants to break the curse, and that's why he sought the profane ritual so that he could gain the ability to finally "live" like a mortal.

But apart from becoming the vampire ascendant, there's another way of terminating his grief to finally put him to rest, that is, to be destroyed and replaced by a successor.

In some way, he was subconsciously expecting Astarion to succeed him and replace him. I think his former master, Vellioth, knew it even more clearly that he would be replaced by Cazador somehow, and Vellioth was training him to do that by intention. Cazador was doing this similarly but more unconsciously. In his subconsciousness, either he would consume Astarion at last, or Astarion would end him and replace him.

Finally, and this is purely headcanon: according to Astarion's age, he was probably born after Cazador's friend was killed. If this friend was also an elf, then when Cazador saw Astarion, for a moment he might think Astarion could be his friend's reincarnation.

[im-josh-b]

Job Legacy Challenge Rules:

MUST USE ONLY THE SAME PLOT FOR WHOLE CHALLENGE.(Doesnt mean you cannot change house for each gen),

2.DOESNT MATTER WHAT GENDER THE HEIR ARE,

3.THIS IS A BASE GAME LEGACY CHALLENGE DO NOT NEED ANY PACKS TO COMPLETE,

4.YOU MUST MAX EACH JOB,

5.ONLY ONE CHILD PER GEN (if you have twins triplets etc, you must move them out of your lot and continue with your heir of choice, 6.MUST COMPLETE THE ASPIRATION OF EACH GENERATION. Now Time For The Generations:

Generation 1-Barista! The first gen is the barista career, Your dream is to be the best barista in the sim world Aspiration: Master Mixoligist Traits: Clumsy, Outgoing, Loyal MUST: Max Mixoligy Skill

Generation 2-Criminal (Boss Branch)! Your the child of a master barista but you dont like the goodness and kindness of your family, Unlike your barista parent your not telling people to have a nice day… no no no you are going to be turning to a life of crime an d want most sims to hate you. Aspiration: Public Enemy Traits: Evil, Kleptomaniac, Non committal MUST: Have 3 failed marriges with the fourth being the parent to next gen, Max Mischief Skill.

Generation 3-Buisness (Management)! Unlike your criminal parent you want to be more like your Grandparent and be kind to people, Your a buisness man/woman living your best life working in the office and having many friends. Aspiration: Renaissance Sim Traits: Good, Family Orrientated, Neat MUST:Max Writing Skill

Generation 4-Astronaut (Space Ranger)! In your childhood you dream of flying to space andexploring new worlds and galaxies, Your buisness parent for your birthday when turning into a teen buys you your very own rocket in the garden. Aspiration: The Curartor Traits: Genius, Loces Outdoors, perfectionist MUST: Max your fitness skill, Get married during the night with no guests and exchange vowls under the stars

Generation 5-Style Influencer (Trend Setter)! You wanna be popular in the world, Your gonna be popular but a heartbraker at the same time taking after your criminal ancestor. Aspiration: Friend of the World Traits: Cheerful, Self Assured, Romantic MUST: Break 5 Hearts and Marry The Sixth Have 3 best friends by being Young Adult

Generation 6-Painter (Patron of the Arts)! You love art and want a wall in your house dedicated to your paintings, You want a wedding in a museum. Apiration: Painter Extrodinare Traits: Cheerful, Creative, Art Lover MUST: Max Painting Skill

Generation 7-Freelancer (Artist)! Growing up with a painting obsessed parent you have naturally gained a liking for painting and want to make a buisness out of it, You only start painting when becoming a young adult where your parent finally lets you touch their paint supplies. Aspiration: Painter Extrodinare Traits: Art Lover, Creative, Childish MUST: Your child must not see the paintings you create and dont let them gain a liking for painting.

Generation 8-Writer (Author)! Since you were not allowed to get into painting you get into writing instead, You dream of being a world famous author and making books as big as harry potter. Aspiration: Best Selling Author Traits: Neat, Pefectionist, Bookworm MUST: Have made atleast 10,000 Simoliens of off books in your lifetime

Generation 9-Tech Guru (eSport Gamer)! Unlike any of your ancestors you want to be a world famous gamer and have many who want to become just like you. Your goal in life is to make a living off of playing games. Aspiration: Computer Whiz Traits: Geek, Lazy, Materalistic MUST: Max Gaming Skill

Generation Ten-"Final generation"-Baby Sitter! You love kids and want the best for them in their lives therefore you spend your weekdays spending time with your familky and sacrifice your weekends to help fellow parents have a break from kids, Aspiration: Big Happy Family Traits: Family Oriented, Good, Outgoing

!!!CONGRATS!!! YOU HAVE JUST COMPLETED THE JOB LEGACY CHALLENGE!!! If you want to continue with your save file i recommend going from generation one to generation 10 again but the next ten never knew about the previous 10 that they turn out just like!!! Thank you for completing my Legacy challenge an dhope you enjoyed playing -Josh